11. Rocco
11
Rocco
Aurora in that dress is fucking lethal.
Her hair’s braided back, exposing the flutter of her pulse at her throat, the pink heat creeping up her neck.
Every glance at her feels like a punch to the gut—how the hell am I supposed to think straight when she looks like that?
Any man with half a heartbeat would drop to his knees for her.
And me? I’m already gone.
“She shouldn’t have come.” Ren’s voice grates from the driver’s seat, the same useless mantra for the tenth time.
If he had his way, she’d be locked up somewhere safe, untouched.
Fuck that.
“I’ll keep her safe,” I murmur, but my fingers trace the hem of her dress instead, skirting higher.
Her thighs press together instinctively—one flick of my wrist, and I could have them parting for me right here.
Aurora’s smarter than both of us.
Her hand clamps around my wrist, her blush deepening to crimson.
“Are you doing all right? With everything we’re about to walk into…” Keeping her voice low enough for only me to hear, she’s got concern written all over her face.
I haven’t tried to come off as nervous.
In fact, I’ve used this woman as a pleasant distraction.
She normally can’t find the time to ask me about my mental being when I have my face tucked between her thighs.
Right now, she’s giving me those big doe eyes, watching me carefully.
Squeezing her knee, I sigh and sit back.
“I have to be. We’re attending a real wedding between one person who hates my guts, and another who should.”
In the pit of my chest, I feel the flicker of pain prickling up.
Every time I think about my family, I feel it.
“She must not hate you if she wants you to come.” Repeating the words she’d said weeks ago, I grunt.
“You don’t understand what I’ve done, angel.” Sighing again, I feel Ren’s eyes against the rearview mirror.
“I tucked my sister away in the corner of our home, treated her like an outcast. Then I gave her false hope, sending her to the Bertelli estate for my gain. She was supposed to be invisible, unnoticed.”
She was supposed to get information on the bastard.
If she failed, she’d get taken out, taking care of the problem of her face haunting me.
It was supposed to be a win-win.
Except, it turns out, I’m a monster for sending my baby sister to get eaten by the wolves.
“I made it worse by convincing your brother to marry my other sister. If our families were tied together, it made sense for both families to attack the Bertelli family. Then she went and ran away, getting captured herself.” I sigh again, grimacing at the memory.
Camellia, being the kind soul she is, may have forgiven me for all of my actions.
Eliza, on the other hand, has never been shy about her hatred for the man I’d become.
Little did she know that I became the man I am to keep my family alive.
Just because she doesn’t agree with it doesn’t mean I’m completely wrong.
Ren groans at the memory of it all.
He’s a trooper, willing to stick his neck out for me.
Both of us know he wouldn’t have survived a marriage with my hot-headed sister anyway.
He’s more of a lone wolf type, anyway.
Aurora is amazed by the new information, having no idea about the decisions that could’ve happened beneath her nose.
“I guess we would’ve met each other one way or another.” Humming her thoughts, she gives my hand a squeeze.
“I wonder how things would’ve worked out then.”
“With a ring wrapped around your finger,” I promise her softly, letting the pad of my thumb graze her knuckle.
Even in a crowded room of a reception, she would’ve stood out amongst plenty of bodies.
Like a light in the shadows.
“This is it,” Ren calls out to us, breaking our short-lived concentration.
“Stay focused.”
The Bertelli estate is made up of one long winding road and plenty of trees.
Close to what Ren has for himself.
However, unlike his cabin, Santino hosts his family in a mansion big enough to host at least twenty rooms. Hell, probably double.
I’ve tried getting into their security, but he’s got it locked up tightly.
We’re all in awe as we reach open gates.
Like an invitation to enter as we please, we pass a security box with someone inside, a radio to his lips.
“Well, they’ll know we’re here.” Dread weighs behind Ren’s words.
He’s got a unique face, no chance of not being recognized.
“We’ll be fine,” I promise him, doubt covering mine.
All these weeks, I used this sweet girl to keep me distracted from reality.
I should’ve tried to prepare myself better for this day.
Then again, I hardly believed I’d attend this wedding.
As gravel crunches beneath the tires, we see plenty of cars already lined up.
Behind us, more cars follow.
Those belonging to my men, my family.
While I may have treated Camellia wrongly, there were plenty of people who took care of her behind my back.
Treated her kindly while they thought I didn’t know.
Of course, I knew. Just because she haunted me without her control didn’t mean she deserved to be hated.
Today, she deserves to have support.
Even more, I need the very same in case this is a set up.
Ren probably wishes some of his men could’ve come as well, but they didn’t receive invites.
His being here is already pushing the line.
Getting out first, I hold out my hand to help Aurora.
While she’s looking at the home in amazement, I’m taking in our surroundings.
The front of the home is quiet, too quiet.
In the back, the sounds of voices carry.
Taking in a breath, my stomach tightens.
Aurora gives my hand a much-needed squeeze before tugging me toward the home.
Of course, there’s a brute waiting for us inside—the same hulking bastard who delivered Santino’s invitation all those weeks ago.
And just like before, his lip curls when he looks at me, disgust simmering in his beady eyes.
“Weapons.” He jerks his chin toward the men already piling pistols and knives into a steel lockbox.
“Nothing passes this point.”
I don’t move.
“That rule for us, or everyone?”
Ren answers for me.
With a confident smile, he pulls his pistol from the small of his back and drops it into the box with a clank.
“Relax,” he says, all teeth.
“If Santino wanted you dead, he wouldn’t waste a bullet. He’d make it personal.”
Ren is good at acting, I’m not.
I’ve always worn my emotions on my sleeve.
The brute’s growl rattles deep in his chest in agreement—but it’s the way his gaze flicks to Aurora that sets my blood on fire.
She steps closer, her shoulder brushing mine, and I don’t bother hiding my scowl.
“She has nothing on her.” Unclipping my own weapon, I drop it next to Ren’s.
“Can we go now?”
The brute looks past us, taking in my family.
“Don’t cause trouble. Not to us, or your siblings. She may have wanted you here, but no one else does.”
As his words simmer, the Marino siblings drag me into their home.
Entering a grand room with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the grand staircase is blocked off, and the same is true for one half of the home.
Instead, there is a path that leads straight down a long hallway toward large glass doors that seem to lead to the back of the house.
Past me would’ve loved to try to sneak away, to pull what information I could.
The same job I gave to Camellia before sending her off on her own.
Now I’ve got heavy feet carrying me along.
I can’t think about anything but getting from one end of the home to the other.
“Breathe.” Aurora’s voice is low, her fingers tightening around mine.
“You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I am breathing—too fast, too shallow.
The air tastes like gunmetal and old blood in this godforsaken house, but that’s not why my pulse is racing in my throat.
It’s them . My sisters.
Are they still whole?
Still them? Or has this family carved out everything soft and left hollowed-out dolls in their place?
The not-knowing is worse than any blade.
It’s a living thing, gnawing at my ribs, dragging me under with every step deeper into this hell.
Clearing my throat, we reach the back of the home, entering what looks like luscious gardens.
Past the bushes, the life of the party.
So many people relax in chairs, sitting amongst themselves, all on the groom’s side.
The bride’s side is scarce, laid out with the hope that someone would show.
There are two people sitting in the front row, one of whom is a familiar face.
“Rocco?” Ren’s voice is cautious as I move toward the crowd without thinking.
I don’t give a damn about the guns or the glares or the way half these men would love an excuse to put a bullet in me.
All that matters is her.
My sister.
But of course, fate’s a bitch.
The man looming at Eliza’s side spots me first. Urzo Bertelli—Santino’s brother, with that same cruel twist to his scarred mouth.
His frown isn’t just a warning; it’s a promise.
Pathetic. Did they really think posting a guard would stop me?
That I’d let some overgrown watchdog keep me from my own blood?
Then Eliza turns her head.
For one heartbeat, shock flickers across her face—before it’s swallowed whole by something else.
Something familiar.
Rage .
Urzo isn’t the one who threatens me before I can settle.
Instead, she’s the one standing up.
She doesn’t wait for him to join her; instead, she cuts the distance between us.
“Eliza–”
I can’t even tell her I’m sorry before she’s swinging her fist at me.
All used to her violent nature, I’m smart to move out of the way.
Ren’s smart to drag Aurora away from my side to avoid getting caught in this little family reunion.
“Eliza,” Urzo growls behind us, not tearing his eyes away from her.
“You promised Camellia you’d be good.”
Scowling at him for his words, I don’t dodge the next swing.
Despite the pain flooding my face, I’m mindful to grab her wrist.
My sister has every right to be angry, and I deserve a punch to the face from her.
Hell, I deserve more.
But seeing him wrap his fingers around her arm has my own anger flaring up.
She huffs as she shakes the pain from her fingers.
Glaring at me, she scoffs.
“She really wanted you to come. She did. Don’t think I’ve come close to forgiving you.”
I work my jaw, tasting blood.
Behind me, Ren watches with detached amusement, while Aurora’s fingers twitch like she wants to reach for me—but stops herself.
“You know Ren,” I mutter, nodding toward them.
“And this is Aurora. My fiancée.”
Eliza’s spine snaps straight.
For a second, pure fury burns behind her eyes—then it hardens into something colder.
“Tell me you’re not marrying her just to spite us, Rocco.”
Us .
The word sears through me.
She just said “us.” Like she’s one of them now.
Like the Bertellis didn’t tear our family apart.
“No, I’m not.” Gritting the words out, I don’t even imagine a world where I’d use Aurora for my benefit.
“My sister, Eliza.”
She doesn’t smile at them.
Hell, I can’t even remember the last time she smiled.
Maybe she’s forgotten how to.
Instead, she turns toward Urzo, and I see it, cracks in her hardening gaze.
Her fingers brush against his chest. “My husband, Urzo.”
Husband .
I wanted to marry her off to Ren, a man who would’ve taken care of her to help us.
Just to spite me, she married one of them.
No. Not in spite. The way she looks at him…
It’s how I look at Aurora.
She loves him. If I tried to pull her back to our family, I’d be tearing her away from someone she cares about.
Someone who can keep up with her.
Eliza wouldn’t put up with someone who treated her wrong.
If I needed any more proof that Camellia is the same, this is it.
I instinctively offer my hand to him.
My eyes meet his, and I take in his scowl.
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
He looks at my hand like it’s a test, but it’s not.
He’s bigger than me, a brute like the rest of them.
I’m willing to believe he’s killed a handful of my men with his bare hands.
Finally, he shakes it, grunting in reply.
From how Eliza watches us, she’s still cautious.
She won’t forgive me for everything I’ve done today.
Hell, it might take months before she fully forgives me, but I’ll work my way toward being a better man.
The man I used to be.