“I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Grace squeezed her father’s hand. For the first time since the shooting, her father was able to sit up and talk coherently. She had rushed to the hospital after one of the nurses called to tell her they had stopped giving him the painkillers that kept him sedated and had moved him out of the ICU and to a private room on the recovery floor.
“It seems I have a lot of unfinished business,” her father said, his forehead creased in a worried frown. “I decided I’d had enough rest. I’ve been on the phone already this morning with my capos and with Piero Forzani, who is still grieving his son’s death. Tell me what’s been going on.”
“Tom has been missing since the shooting.”
Papa paled. “No body?”
“No, Papa. I’ve been trying to find him.” Grace filled him in on everything that had happened as well as the information Rocco had given her last night without mentioning Rocco by name—Tony hiring Albanians to hunt for Tom, her suspicions that Tony and his crew were responsible for the shooting at Carvello’s, and Nico’s efforts to keep him safe.
“I owe Nico a debt,” her father said. “I was about to call him when you arrived. I’ve been trying all morning to get through to Don Gamboli to discuss this matter but I’m getting no answer.”
“What about his consigliere, Luigi Cavallo?”
“Nothing.” Her father shook his head. “I tried Don Gamboli’s bodyguard and his wife and brother, and no answer from them either. I’ve sent some of my capos in New York out to see what they can find.”
“Rocco said Nico was trying to get in touch with them as well and had no luck.”
“Rocco?”
Grace swallowed hard. “Yes, Rocco De Lucchi. He was at the Carvello’s. One of the shooters shouted something about taking me alive and Rocco has been protecting me.”
Papa squeezed her hand so much she thought he would break a bone. “Why was he there?”
“I…” She sucked in her lips. “He came to see me. We were in—”
“Did you invite him?”
“No, Papa, but we—”
“Did you tell him who we were meeting and where?”
Grace twisted her hands together in her lap. “No.”
Papa pushed himself up on the bed. “So he just showed up? When you were having dinner with your family and family friends? How did he find you?”
Grace’s stomach twisted in a knot. “I don’t know. I guess he followed me.”
“He followed you.” Papa’s voice rose to a shout. “Jesus Christ. He’s a De Lucchi. If he was there, he was involved. He probably had the contract on Tom and me, and he brought those men along to make sure the job got done.”
“No.” She pulled her hand away. “He shot at them. He protected us, protected you and Tom. He turned over a table, and he shot one of the guys in the chest. Then he got me out of there and took me somewhere safe.”
“Did he kill the man he shot?”
Sweat beaded on her forehead. “No. Rocco said he was wearing a vest.”
Papa snorted a laugh. “Was anyone dead when you left?”
Grace’s mouth went dry. “No.”
“Then they were his men. Have you ever heard of a De Lucchi leaving anyone alive?”
She pushed her chair away from the side of his bed and stood. “He left you alive. And Tom. And me. He saved me. And he’s been helping me look for Tom.”
“Helping you so you would lead him to Tom and he could whack him, no doubt.”
“No. That’s not how it was.” Grace hugged herself, wrapping her cold hands around her body. “Nico’s wife and his underboss’s wife helped me track Tom’s phone to a trailer park. Rocco showed up with some of his men, and he went into the trailer. I heard shots, and he came out with blood on him. He said there were three Albanians inside, and he could get one of them to talk. He brought me Tom’s phone.”
“Most likely they had Tom, too,” Papa said. “Did you go inside? Did you look for yourself if Tom was there? Did you see this Albanian who was willing to talk? Did you talk to him?”
“No. I asked Rocco to”—her mouth went dry—“question one of them for me so we could find Tom, and he promised he wouldn’t kill him.”
“Cristo santo!” Papa exploded, throwing up his hands and treating Grace to a string of choice Italian swear words. “A De Lucchi told you he wouldn’t kill someone, and you believed him.” Papa’s voice turned cold. “You led him right to your brother and took him at his word that your brother wasn’t there. And you let him convince you Tony was behind the hit. How naïve can you be?”
“I trust him,” she said quietly.
“Well, you’re the only person who does. The rest of us know who he is. He is a De Lucchi. They are not good men. A man is defined by the lines he won’t cross, but the De Lucchis have no boundaries. Once they have a contract they will do whatever it takes to fulfill it. They will pretend to be your boyfriend, your lover, your friend—they will use you, betray you, hurt you—anything to get the job done.”
A shiver ran down Grace’s spine. “He’s not like that. I know him. I was…” She fisted her skirt, steeled herself to reveal a truth she had kept hidden for so long. “We were together before I left New York. For two years.”
Far from being angry or aghast, her father waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. A teenage crush. You meant nothing to him. The De Lucchis don’t have relationships. Love, caring, empathy—all the emotions you seem to have too much of—are beaten out of them starting when they are ten years old. They are given things to care about when they are children, just so they can be taken away.” His face softened. “The De Lucchi boys all get a puppy when they are adopted, polpetto. I’ll bet you never saw him with a dog.”
Grace’s eyes watered. “Don’t, Papa. Don’t tell me that.”
“And you.” He shook his head. “Did you think Cesare wouldn’t know about you? If you were with him for two years, it was only because Cesare allowed it for the sole purpose of breaking him by taking you away. Is that what happened the night you came back to me with bandages on your face asking questions about who we were and who were the De Lucchi crew?”
“Cesare said he would kill Rocco if I told you about what happened that night.” Her hand went to her cheek. “I believed him.”
“He would never kill his son, because if he did, he would have to adopt another boy and start again. It is required under their code. He doesn’t have a son of his own. Few of them do, because it is not easy to find a woman willing to marry a De Lucchi, especially knowing that the relationship will be one without love.”
“Rocco loved me,” she blurted out.
“Maybe you loved him, but he didn’t love you, polpetto. The De Lucchis don’t know how to love.”
“You’re wrong.” She trembled all over. “He did love me. I felt it.” She tapped her chest, and a pained expression crossed her father’s face.
“How many times do I tell you, those feelings you have, that your mother and the women in the family claim to have, are not real?”
“I felt something was wrong when we got to Carvello’s,” she snapped. “Tom laughed at me. But I was right. Look what happened.”
“Rocco De Lucchi showed up with a contract to kill your family is what happened.” Papa thudded the bed rail, wincing as he did. “And the comment about you being left alive … we don’t involve women in our affairs. Even a De Lucchi won’t harm a woman. No doubt he wanted them to take you out so there was no risk of you being shot.”
“What about this?” She ran her hand down her face. “A De Lucchi did this to me.”
Papa’s lips tightened. “I don’t have an answer, but once I get in touch with the don, you will be avenged.”
Grace had never thought about revenge. She’d never once thought about making Cesare pay for what he’d done. All she’d ever thought about was Rocco, what he’d done that night at the creek, and how she’d felt sickened and betrayed. But now that she was with him again, knowing what he’d been through, she wanted Cesare to pay. Not for what he’d done to her, but for what he’d done to Rocco. Despite what her father said about the De Lucchis, she trusted her feelings in a way she hadn’t before. What she had with him now was real. What she saw behind the De Lucchi mask he was forced to wear was a man strong enough to withstand Cesare’s training. This time she would be strong, too. She wasn’t going to turn her back on him and run away.
“What are we going to do about Tom?” she asked, changing the subject.
“You’re not going to do anything. I’m able to think now that they aren’t pumping me full of drugs, and I should be out of here in a few days. I’ll ask Piero Forzani to coordinate a search for Tom, and I’ll speak to Nico about getting some of his capos involved. We will find him, and after we do, and an appropriate mourning period for Benito has passed, you’ll marry the Forzani’s younger son, Dino.”
Grace’s brow creased in a frown. “What are you talking about?”
Papa sighed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but the family needs an alliance and the Forzanis are a perfect fit. Piero Forzani and I had hoped you and Benito would get together without any coercion, but now that Benito is dead, Dino will have to take his place. The capos in New York have gained so much power over the last few years that an alliance is the only way for both our families to survive. The Forzanis have a formidable presence in New York. Piero’s brother is one of the most powerful capos in the Gamboli family. The alliance will secure the future of both families and keep our family safe from any more events like what has happened here in Vegas.”
“You want me to marry a man I’ve never met?” She stared at him aghast.
“You’ll meet him tonight. He will be your bodyguard until I can get someone permanent hired. I have it all worked out.”
A shudder ran through her body. “First of all, I’m not meeting anyone tonight. I’m singing again, Papa. I have a gig at the Stardust. Second, I don’t need a bodyguard. I have Rocco. And third, I’m not getting married to someone I don’t know or love. You can’t force me into a marriage. I thought you said you would never do that to me.”
“I won’t have to force you.” He held out a hand. “You’ll do it for me and Tom and the rest of your family. You don’t want to lose your family, polpetto. It is all we have.”
* * *
Rocco walked through the wide marble hallways of Tony’s palatial mansion as he had done many times before, first as Tony’s father’s enforcer, and then as Nico’s bodyguard when Nico was forced to kneel before Tony’s father, Santo, then boss of the family.
This time, however, he was here as his own man, on his own mission, and with his own agenda.
Damn it felt good.
Using the power of the De Lucchi name, he had been given admittance to Tony’s heavily guarded complex and obtained an audience with the man Nico most wanted to see in the ground. How easy it would be to pull the trigger during the meeting and end the civil war between Nico and Tony. But that one shot would not just end the war, it would end Rocco’s life. And right now he had something to live for that made whacking Tony an unacceptable risk.
“Frankie.” Tony looked up from his father’s old wood desk. He hadn’t changed anything in his father’s office after his father died, and the dark heavy furniture, thick velvet drapes, and dark green carpet set Rocco’s teeth on edge from the bad memories alone.
“If you didn’t give your word of honor that you weren’t here to whack me, I would never have let you in,” Tony continued. “From what I’ve heard, Nico has you wrapped around his little finger.”
Rocco tossed three gold rings on Tony’s desk—He had removed them from the fingers of the Albanians before giving them a proper Lake Mead burial. Each ring bore the signet of the Albanian Mafia and they were only ever removed upon death.
“Is this a gift?” Tony stared at the rings but made no move to touch them.
“Your hires. I thought you’d like to have their jewelry back to send to their wives in Albania.”
“If they were my hires, then those rings would indicate you were interfering in my business.” Tony folded his arms and leaned back in his black leather chair. He had a bodyguard on either side of him, and two at the door, and yet he knew they wouldn’t be able to save him if Rocco had come here on official De Lucchi business.
Rocco settled in the chair across from Tony’s desk and stretched out his legs. “Since when does your business involve trying to whack the New York underboss, hunting for his son and trying to kidnap his daughter?”
“Since when is my business of interest to the De Lucchis?”
Rocco didn’t even flinch when he lied. “You interfered with my contract at Carvello’s.”
“Ah.” Tony smirked. “I heard the Bianchis lost two men that night. What’s the problem? They’re dead. Does it matter who pulled the trigger?”
“They weren’t my contract.”
Tony leaned forward. “So you were after the Mantinis? I hear Nunzio is still alive and his son is on the run and you are escorting his daughter around. Someone didn’t do his job. What does Cesare think about that? I can’t imagine he’s very happy right now.” He tilted his head to the side, put a finger to his lips. “Has a De Lucchi ever not completed a job? I can’t remember hearing about a single instance until now. But then I can’t remember ever hearing about a De Lucchi thinking with his dick instead of his gun. How’s your ugly duckling?”
If Rocco hadn’t been trained to hide every trace of emotion, he might have curled his hand around the armrest of the chair, broken into a sweat, or thrown himself over the desk and wrapped his hands around Tony’s throat. Damn the fucking Mafia and the fucking eyes that were fucking everywhere.
“Why the fuck did you hire the Albanians to go after the boy? What’s your interest in this?”
Tony laughed. “Everyone thinks I’m the bad guy, but I have a good heart. When I heard you were looking for him, I thought Nunzio might appreciate having someone step in to save his sorry ass.” He opened his hands. “Who knows how he’ll repay the favor? Maybe he’ll go back to the don and tell him I would be a better boss in Vegas than fucking Nico who just sat back and let you rampage around his town.”
“Not if you shot up a restaurant and killed two Bianchi capos.”
Tony’s dark eyes gleamed. “Maybe it wasn’t me.”
“Maybe it was.”
“Why would I incur the wrath of two families, including the family of the underboss who gets to make a decision about who rules this town?”
Rocco snorted a laugh. “Because this is Vegas and you’re hedging your bets.”
“No betting man would take those odds.”
For the first time in his career as an enforcer, Rocco felt a stirring of unease. Usually he knew how every situation would play out before he walked in the door. Today, he’d expected Tony to reveal he was working for one of the New York capos, and give him a name, but he was beginning to get the feeling that Tony was telling the truth.
“I shot the leader in the chest. You’re saying that wasn’t you?”
“I like you, Frankie, but not so much that I’m going to strip for you.” Tony patted his silk shirt. “And if you’d shot me in the chest, we would likely not be having this conversation.”
“Unless you were wearing a vest.”
Tony nodded. “That would be prudent if one were going out on a hit. I’ll remember that for next time. Thanks for the tip.”
“Do you have the boy?”
A slow, sly smile spread across Tony’s face. “Unfortunately, I can neither confirm nor deny that he is a guest in my home. If I were to find him, I would certainly look forward to the reunion of father and son and the ensuing reward for my selfless act of kindness in tracking him down and keeping him safe. Now, if I could get the girl away from you, there is nothing Nunzio wouldn’t do for me.”
Unable to sit another minute, Rocco pushed himself up. “She’s in no danger from me.”
“You’re a De Lucchi.” Tony laughed. “Everyone is in danger from you. I’ve seen what you can do, Frankie. I was here for every contract my father gave you. I was here every time you reported back. I saw the pictures. Sometimes I even went to view the bodies. Maybe you think she’s not in danger from you, but she is, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. You can hurt people many different ways. But I don’t have to tell you that. No one knows more about pain than you.”
* * *
“Do you love me?” Grace rested her chin on Rocco’s chest and looked up at him through the thicket of her lashes.
“Yeah, cara mia,” he said softly. “I love you.” He had no other word for the feelings he had when he was with Grace. It was like he had overdosed on the most powerful drug in existence—and he’d tried a lot of them—and his whole body was flooded with pleasure. If love meant he would die for her, that no matter what he was doing he thought of her, that he felt her hands on his body when he lay alone in bed, that he didn’t wash his clothes because they smelled of her, that his heart felt like it only beat when she was with him, then yes, he loved her.
A smile spread across her face, and fuck, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for that smile. He reached up to touch the gold cross around his neck, silently thanking his parents for giving him something that had enabled him to shield a small corner of his heart from Cesare so that he had been open to the love Grace had offered him, and he’d been able to love her in return.
She shifted on top of him and a growl rose in his chest as his cock responded to the gentle slide of her hips. He liked her in this position, her heart thudding softly against his chest, every inch of her body on every inch of his. He’d never imagined two people could be so close, and the feelings he had in these stolen hours in the darkness were so powerful they made him believe he could withstand anything Cesare did to him.
“Will you always love me?”
He swept a hand through her beautiful hair and down her back. “Always.”
“Do you promise?” Grace pushed herself higher.
“Yes, I promise.” He leaned forward to kiss her so she wouldn’t see the flicker of pain that he knew would be reflected in his eyes. He would always love her because he had loved her already for seven years and he couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. But this couldn’t last. One day, Cesare would find out, and Rocco didn’t know what he would do. He could no sooner give up Grace than he could stop breathing, and if it meant he had to die, he would die knowing that he’d held perfection in his arms. She was everything that was good and beautiful and innocent about the world, everything Cesare had stolen from him when he had plucked him from an orphanage in Vegas and brought him to New York.
“When I’m finished school, we can get married,” she said with the certainty of youth. “Papa won’t be happy about our age difference but when he sees how much we love each other, he’ll come ’round.”
Rocco was pretty damn sure Nunzio Mantini would never come ’round to the idea of a De Lucchi marrying his daughter, and especially one ten years older than her, but he wasn’t about to extinguish the light in her eyes by telling her the truth. And even if Nunzio were to agree, which was as remote a possibility as another dinosaur walking the earth, Cesare would find a way to destroy them. But even the knowledge that this would never last, that one day he would have to break her heart, couldn’t stop him from taking what she offered. He was a selfish bastard, but he’d rather have a short time with Grace than never have experienced the emotion she had awakened in him at all.
“Anything you want, Gracie. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Will you wear a tux instead of your leather jacket?”
“If it makes you happy.”
“Can we get married outside?”
“Sure.”
“When you ask me, can you make it romantic so that when I tell our kids I can cry like my mom used to do when she told us how my dad asked her to marry him?”
Rocco swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know anything about romance, dolcezza. I just know how I feel about you.”
“Then tell me that.”
“Okay.”
She leaned up and pressed her lips against his. “Do you want anything?” she asked.
“Only you.”
“You have me. I’m not going anywhere. I mean something at our wedding.”
He didn’t want to think about the wedding that would never happen, the dress she would never wear, the tux he would never rent, and the romance she wanted that he didn’t even understand. But he forced the image into his mind so he could come up with something to see her smile again. “I want you to sing.”
“What?”
“Something from your heart.”
She kissed him again, her lips warm and soft. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“That’s easy,” she murmured. “Every song I sing comes from my heart and my heart is full of you. I’ll never run out of songs to sing.”
He wished that were true. The world would be a darker place without her beautiful voice and it would be a Hell he couldn’t even imagine when she was gone.