Chapter 7
It’s been a few days since I saw her last, and my mind has been preoccupied by the way she submissively accepts my cock and rough hand and how she melts against my touch when I praise her for accepting me as I am.
I feel volatile and ravenous when I’m in her presence. Yet away from her, I feel like my heart is being torn from my chest, with an urgency to be by her side like some insane dependency. The relationship I’m creating between us is not a normal one, but it’s something I’m finding I can’t function without. Men in the Mafia only require women to reproduce an heir, yet I want her for so much more. I simply cannot explain it, even to myself.
I rub at my temple. Sleep deprived and pissed is an understatement, and when I discover who is behind the tip-offs, I’ll make them pay. All of them.
“Is the prick onto you?” I glare toward my brother, the way in which his leg bounces, giving away his anxiety.
He scrubs his hand through his messy hair, then holds my gaze. “No,” he says, and I relax back into my chair.
When the police commissioner ordered yet another raid at our warehouse, we were fortunate enough that the driver of our delivery took the fall for us. He knew what he was getting himself into the moment he signed up for the job and accepted it, knowing if he was ever caught, he was to take full responsibility, and we would provide a subsidy for his family during his stint in prison. Go against our contract and rat us out, and his life would be a living hell while he’s banged up, then we’d dispose of him the moment he’s released.
Rocco sighs heavily and sits forward. “It has to be someone on the inside.” He unzips his leather jacket, exposing his white T-shirt, his ripped jeans are covered in oil, and his black boots are unlaced. His dark hair is messy, but somehow, he looks good. He’s the complete opposite of me. I’m so well put together and slick, the epitome of a Mafia man, but Rocco looks like he belongs in a motorcycle club. I grind my jaw from side to side, pissed at my mind for wandering. I’ve already lost one brother to an MC, and I refuse to lose another.
Rocco may be young, but he’s forging his own path within the Mafia, and I couldn’t be prouder. I allow him to continue his little obsession with the girl as long as it doesn’t impact our business. If it does, I will put an end to it. After all, the police commissioner already has it in for us, and if he were to find out my brother’s secret, I dread to think of the consequences. The last thing we need to do is to add fuel to the fire, not until we can extinguish him for good, anyway. Rocco just needs to hang fire until that can happen, but something tells me he’s not prepared to wait much longer.
Rocco has black bags beneath his eyes, and guilt hits me; the kid has taken on Tommy’s fair share of responsibilities without so much as a complaint. Not like Tommy’s dumb ass, who attempts to make a point in having nothing to do with the Mafia, while I slip him money to check over our accounts without my father’s knowledge.
“We keep all shipments to a minimum, have it appear like we’re lying low. Then we set up another run and drip feed the intel to each security team. Instead of running coke, we use something legal, something we don’t mind being caught with,” I say.
Rocco sits up straighter. “A setup, I like it.” His eyes alight with a sadistic gleam.
“I’ll get Kai on board; we’ll figure out which team has a rat soon enough.” Rocco flops back in his chair, his head falling back. “Get yourself home and to bed, Rocco. I’ll deal with shit here until tomorrow.”
He lifts his head and arches an eyebrow at me. “You sure?”
“Yes, fucking go.” I wave him off, and his lips tip up into a smile as he stands, reminding me of his mother. Pretty little thing. Shame she had to die, really. Though, she was nothing compared to my little doll.
Nobody compares to her.
I take out my phone again and open the app that gives me access to her room. Her bed is freshly made, and I smile at just how fucking perfect she is.
Next, I swipe into the kitchen, and only Rosalita is in there baking. My heart races as I check one room after the other before I login to the outside security feed, and there she fucking is.
My hand tightens on my phone as anger boils inside me, burning so strongly I feel it all the way to the veins pounding in my forehead.
She giggles at one of the security guys and throws her head back so far her hair touches her ass, those silky locks taunting me, and when he places something in her hair, a blush creeps over her cheeks. Then she fidgets from side to side, her small hips encased by some ridiculous shorts far too small for her, tugging on her T-shirt that exposes her stomach. As she smiles at him, I about combust in a fit of jealousy.
Fury like no other flares through my body as I stand and grab the nearest thing to me. I launch the chair Rocco was lazing in and throw it through the glass window that separates the office from the warehouse.
The workers all turn to face me with wide eyes, then just as quick turn back to resume their tasks.
My head feels like it will explode as I storm toward the exit, barking orders at my security to have Kai take over for me, as my mind is now consumed with Ellie.