Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Rocco
Damn Angelo. I knew this was fucking going to happen.
My brother stormed across the room, the crowd parting before him like water. His long hair flew behind him, his hands already clenched into fists.
Dante grabbed me by the lapels and lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. His face was inches from mine, fangs fully extended, eyes blazing with three years of rage.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. “Here to finish the job?”
I wrapped my hands around his wrists but didn’t fight him. Not yet. “Put me down, Dante. Do you really want to do this at Julienne’s party?”
“I don’t give a fuck about the party.” His grip tightened, the fabric of my tuxedo straining. “I’d kill you anywhere. Anytime.”
“Dante, release him this minute.”
I winced.
Mom.
My chest caved in. Every muscle in my body locked. The last time I’d heard that voice, she’d been on the floor, bleeding, begging me to stop.
She approached us, her heels clicking against the marble floor, and placed her hand gently on Dante’s arm. “Please don’t do this. Not here. Not tonight.”
Dante’s jaw worked. For a moment, I thought he’d ignore her—thought he’d rip my throat out right here in front of everyone. But slowly, grudgingly, he lowered me to the ground.
Then he shoved me. Hard.
I stumbled backward. Behind me, Selena gasped. I whirled around just in time to catch her before she fell, my hands gripping her waist to steady her.
“This isn’t over,” Dante growled behind me. “Brother.”
He spat the word like a curse.
I turned back in time to see him stalk away, the crowd scrambling to get out of his path. His mate, Katona, waited for him near the edge of the dance floor, shaking her head slowly. She was the calm to his storm—always had been.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said softly. She stepped closer, her eyes searching my face. “He’s just never gotten...” Her voice trailed off, the words she couldn’t say hanging heavy between us.
Over what you did. Over the monster you became.
I looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time in two years.
She was as striking as ever. Gone were the horrible bruises I’d given her, the ones that had haunted my nightmares for months.
Her dark hair was pulled into an elegant French braid, diamonds woven through the strands.
She wore a long silver sequined gown that caught the light with every breath.
But it was her eyes that nearly destroyed me—still warm, still kind, still looking at me like I was her son and not the creature who’d broken her bones.
I didn’t deserve that kindness.
I didn’t deserve her.
“I need a drink.”
Coward. Such a coward thing to say. But I was at a loss for anything else. What was I supposed to tell her? Sorry I beat you half to death? Sorry I disappeared for two years? Sorry I’m only here because a mafia king is blackmailing me with your life?
No. Sorry wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Mom’s lips pressed together—a small, tight movement that broke my heart more than any tears could have. But she nodded. “Of course. We can talk later.”
Later. Right. As if there would be a later.
I took Selena’s arm—maybe a little too roughly—and steered us toward the bar. She glanced up at me, questions in her eyes, but she didn’t ask them. Smart woman.
I just needed to get through this. Steal the key from Selena’s purse, sneak away from the party when no one was looking, find Julienne’s office, steal the shard, and get back to my pathetic life.
Simple.
So why did I feel like everything was about to fall apart?
Ethan, Costin’s manservant, was working behind the bar tonight. He moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who’d been doing this for centuries—which, knowing Costin, he probably had. His bluish-grey eyes flicked over me as we approached, taking in the rumpled lapels, the tension in my shoulders.
“Prince Rocco.” His voice was pleasant, perfectly neutral. “What would you like tonight? Possibly some Chosen Blood?”
No judgment. No surprise at seeing the disgraced prince at the party. That was Ethan—he rarely let his emotions show. If he had opinions about me being here, they stayed locked behind that polite mask.
Chosen Blood was the Dom Pérignon of the vampire world—rare, exquisite, reserved for special occasions. But I needed something stronger. Something to burn away the image of my mother’s face, the hurt in her eyes when I’d walked away.
“Shot of whiskey, Ethan.” I glanced at Selena beside me. “Chosen Blood for the lady.”
Ethan nodded and turned to prepare our drinks. I drummed my fingers on the bar, scanning the room, calculating how long I’d have to stay before I could slip away unnoticed.
Not long enough, apparently.
Keir Rankin was heading straight for us.
The Unseelie mafia king moved through the crowd like he owned the place—which, in a way, he did.
His long white hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and his sharp blue eyes missed nothing.
They never did. The fae were dangerous enough, but Keir was something else entirely.
Centuries of scheming and backstabbing had honed him into something beautiful and lethal—like a poisoned chalice you couldn’t refuse.
He had a gift for finding things out. For putting pieces together when no one else could.
I hoped to God he wouldn’t discover what I was really doing here tonight.
If he blackmailed Angelo, my mom was already dead.
His faithful enforcer, Lorcan, followed a step behind. Short spiked hair, leather jacket over his formal shirt—the guy always reminded me of a punk rocker from decades long gone. He looked bored, but I knew better. Lorcan was never bored. He was waiting.
“Rocco.” Keir stopped in front of us and raised his martini glass in a mocking toast. “I see you earned an invitation.”
“Keir.” I kept my voice tight, controlled. The last thing I needed was the Unseelie mafia king sniffing around. He was much too smart—the kind of smart that saw through lies and smelled weakness like blood in the water. “Actually, I’m here representing Angelo.”
Something flickered in those icy blue eyes. Interest. Amusement. Suspicion.
Behind him, Lorcan snorted.
Ethan slid my whiskey across the bar. I grabbed it and slammed it back, letting the burn chase away the urge to say something I’d regret.
This night just kept getting better.
“Where is the vampire king?” Keir asked, swirling his martini. “I expected Angelo himself, not a... representative.”
The pause before “representative” was deliberate. Pointed.
I’d bet a hundred bucks he already knew something. Keir always knew something. “I was just told to come and represent him.”
Keir took a slow sip of his drink, watching me over the rim of the glass. “An offer you couldn’t refuse?”
My blood ran cold.
He smiled—a kind of smile that made you feel like you’d already lost a game you didn’t know you were playing. The bastard was fishing, and I was the stupid trout circling the hook.
Before I could dig myself deeper, the band shifted into a slow song. The melody drifted across the ballroom, and couples began moving toward the dance floor.
Perfect timing.
I clasped Selena’s hand. “If you’ll excuse us...”
Keir’s smile widened, but he stepped aside with a graceful nod. “Of course. Enjoy your evening, Rocco.” Those pale eyes slid to Selena. “Both of you.”
I didn’t like the way he said that. I didn’t like any of this.
I escorted her to a table near the back. She set down the infamous purse, then her drink. I put mine next to hers. “Let’s dance.”
“Rocco, are you sure?” Selena whispered as I guided her toward the floor.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
I swept her onto the dance floor and pulled her close—closer than I probably should have. One hand settled on her lower back, the other clasping her fingers. She fit against me like she’d been made for this. For me.
And her scent—God, her scent. Something floral I couldn’t name, soft and subtle, wrapping around me like silk. It inflamed something deep in my chest, imprinting on my senses like a fine wine I’d never be able to forget.
This was dangerous.
She was dangerous.
And I was already in too deep.
We moved together, swaying to the slow melody. I tried to keep my distance—tried to remember why I was here, what I was supposed to be doing. But every time she shifted closer, every time her fingers tightened on my shoulder, my resolve crumbled a little more.
I twirled her around, watching her gown flare out like dark water, then drew her back against my chest. She came willingly, her body pressing against mine, and I had to bite back a groan.
Then I dipped her.
Her dark hair cascaded toward the floor. Her throat was exposed, pale and perfect, and my fangs ached with the urge to taste her. Her eyes found mine—wide, surprised, trusting—and something cracked open in my heart.
I eased her back up slowly, keeping her close. Too close. Her breath was warm against my jaw.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” she murmured.
“I could say the same about you.”
“Me?” She tilted her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m just following your lead.”
Don’t, I wanted to tell her. Don’t follow me. Don’t trust me. Run as far and as fast as you can.
But the words wouldn’t come.
The music swelled around us, and I guided her across the floor, weaving between other couples who blurred into nothing. There was only Selena. The warmth of her hand in mine. The way her body moved with mine like we’d been dancing together for centuries instead of minutes.
“Why did you really come tonight, Rocco?” Her voice was soft, but her eyes were sharp. Searching. “And don’t say it’s just because Angelo asked.”
I should lie. I was good at lying—had been doing it all night. But looking into those dark eyes, with her scent filling my lungs and her warmth so close I could taste it, I couldn't.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. And it was the most honest thing I’d said in two years.
Her expression softened. Her hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck, fingers brushing against my hair. The touch sent electricity racing down my spine.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered. So quiet I almost didn’t hear it.
The words gutted me.
She’d missed me. After everything I’d done—rejecting her, calling her a disgrace, disappearing without a word—she’d missed me.
I didn’t deserve her.
I didn’t deserve any of this.
But I held her tighter anyway, tucking her head beneath my chin, and let myself have this moment. Just this one moment of pretending I was the man she thought I was.
The song ended too soon. The last notes faded into applause, and reality came crashing back.