21. Rocco
21
ROCCO
M y entire body feels light. It’s as if, for the first time in five years, I’ve actually been able to relax enough to sleep through the night.
I can feel a gentle breeze from the open window, soothing my skin as I stretch. My arms pop in satisfaction.
They reach down to cradle the woman at my side. She’s the reason for this sense of peace that seems to have enveloped me, this woman who has submitted entirely to me, as I have to her.
But my hands find nothing but air.
Finally, I crack my eyes open, only discover the bed beside me is empty.
Ruffled white sheets and her scent are the only things that linger.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
She wouldn’t. Not so soon.
I can feel my heart beginning to pound within my chest as my mind spins into catastrophe.
I knew exhibiting Cassandra on my arm at the Candelabra had been a risk. Any woman I associate with has a target on their back. But usually, my preemptive measures were enough to keep them safe.
I would send someone to trail after them for a few weeks to ensure they left the city or else help them drop into obscurity with a handsome paycheck. My reputation had ensured the rest. I didn’t care enough about those women for them to warrant my enemy's interest.
Danny was the only one to insist on sticking around, and Alessandro had reported several incidents that had concerned me.
But Danny could look after herself, and my public displays of affection for her could never have been misconstrued as anything but transactional.
Cas, however…
Had I been so transparent? Had someone somehow realized the truth when I held her possessively at my side? If anyone had entered that parking lot last night and seen how utterly ruined I truly was, there would be no doubt.
Cas is my weakness.
And now she had disappeared.
I jump from the bed, scrambling to find a pair of pants as I examine the scene before me.
The window is open. Someone could have approached in the night and taken her. There was no sign of a struggle, but that meant nothing in my line of work. If she’d been asleep, it would have taken nothing to render her unconscious.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The sound of the fire alarm has me springing into action.
The gun I keep in my bottom drawer is in my hand, and I’m out the door a millisecond later.
“CAS! Donatella!”
Who would be foolish enough to attack me in my own home? For one, setting fire to the place was so damn cliche I want to punch something. For another, none of my enemies know where this place is.
Its location is a secret kept between Donatella, Teo, and myself.They are the two people I trust most in this damn world. And now, I suppose, Cassandra.
I hadn’t bothered to blindfold her when we traveled to and from the Candelabra. In truth, it hadn’t even crossed my mind.
I shake the thought away as I pound down the hall, shoving open every door and aiming my gun inside as I pass.
“Cassandra!”
But every door reveals nothing, and every step takes me further panic.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
I take the stairs two at a time, trying to find the source of the fire. If the fucker who set it off is still there, he will take me to Cassandra.
Someone screams. And my blood runs cold.
The sound sends me careening toward the kitchen. I brace myself as I kick down the door.
I’m immediately greeted with billowing black smoke that renders me temporarily blind.
“CAS?”
I blink away the smoke.
To find Donatella standing barefoot on the counter, frantically wafting at the smoke alarm with a towel. A half dozen charred pieces of bacon are strewn across the floor as if flung from the cast iron pan that still hisses with fat on the ground.
And, at the center of it all, is a sheepish-looking Cas hunched over the tap, wincing in agony.
The gun in my hand feels suddenly entirely unwarranted. I quickly holster it in the back of my pants before anyone can notice.
“What the hell?”
“Sorry!” Cas gives me a frantic look as she approaches. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Finally, the beeping of the alarm subsides, and Donatella hops down from the counter. “Clearly, you were trying to burn the entire house down.”
“I was just trying to make breakfast.” Cas ducks her head in shame.
A startled laugh escapes my lips as I tug her toward me, needing her closeness to reassure my poor, anxious heart that she is okay.
“I think we’ll leave the cooking to Donatella in the future.”
Cas returns my embrace hesitantly, so I glance down to try and find the cause. But she’s buried her head in my chest.
Donatella grabs a towel to wrap around the still-sizzling panhandle. “You scared me half to death. You could have burned your arm off!”
When Cas cringes against me, I gently pry her arms from around my waist and examine her hands. As I suspected, a large welt seems to be forming on her left palm.
“It’s fine,” she insists.
But I’m already dragging her back over to the sink and turning on the water. I stand behind her as I hold her burned hand up to the steady stream of cool water.
“I could do this myself,” she murmurs but makes no move to shake me away.
Behind me, I hear Donatella sigh. “I have some chores to catch up on.”
I make a mental note to ensure Donatella’s bonus is doubled this month when the kitchen door bangs shut behind her.
Finally alone, I take the opportunity to pin Cas against the counter with my other hand and rest my head on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Cas sighs as she leans against me seemingly content with my closeness.
“For nearly burning down my house?”
“For being a terrible cook.”
I slowly rotate her arm so that the water splashes evenly over the burn. “I don’t need you to cook for me.”
“I was just trying to do something nice.”
With a laugh, I plant a soft kiss on the side of her neck. “It’s the thought that counts, Angioletta.”
There’s a pause where we both seem to bask in the moment comfortably.
“Why do you call me that?” she asks suddenly.
“ Angioletta?”
“Yes.”
I smile. “Do you know what it means?”
She cocks her head slightly. “I might have googled it.”
“The first time I saw you singing on the stage at the Candelabra, I knew you had to be some kind of angel,” I explain. “But then I realized that wasn’t true.”
She pulls away to look at me. “I’m insulted.”
My eyes dart hungrily to her mouth. “You were far too tempting for a little angel.”
Cas smirks as she leans forward and takes my bottom lip between her teeth.
I growl in response, pressing my hardening crotch against her so that she can feel my growing desire.
“See?” I breathe once she’s released me. “Practically sinful.”
She hums happily in response, and Jesus Christ, do I want to bend her over and replay our last adventure in this very kitchen scene by mouth watering scene.
But then her stomach rumbles.
A flush immediately rises in her cheeks. “I…”
With a chuckle, I kiss the top of her head and step away. “Keep your hand under the water. I’ll make us breakfast.”
“ You,” she scoffs. “Are you sure you don’t want to call Donatella?
“I’ll have you know, I’m an exceptional cook.”
I grab four eggs from the fridge. Their familiar weight fits comfortably in one hand, and as I set up the frying pan on the stove with the other, I immediately feel myself sink into the zone.
It’s been a while since I’ve bothered with doing this, but the routine of it soothes what remains of my anxiety from earlier.
I take a metal spatula out next and wave it at Cas. “Watch,” I say as I throw an egg up into the air over the pan. It falls perfectly on top of my spatula, wedging the shell and cracking the contents into the warm surface below.
She lets out a low whistle. “I’d clap, but…” she waves her injured hand at me. “Where did you learn that?”
“I had a big house and a whole lot of downtime as a kid.” I turn away to the stove. “I figured I’d learn from my father’s numerous award-winning chefs.”
“Ah, so is it a Michelin-star secret technique?”
“The egg toss?” I say as I throw two slices of bread in the toaster.
“Bringing a gun into the kitchen.”
Damn it. I forgot about the pistol shoved into the back of my pants. I’d revealed it to her as soon as I turned my back to her.
“You can never be too careful,” I joke.
She hums non-committedly. “Is that a mafia thing?”
“It’s a…a” the sizzling eggs fill the silence for a moment, “territorial thing.”
“You scared someone’s gonna come in here and make better eggs than you?”
I take my time plating up the food in order to formulate my response. It’s a simple meal, but I garnish it with salt, pepper, and fresh parsley.
“These days, I have a little more to lose, I suppose,” I say as I hand her a plate.
She takes it with her good hand and turns off the faucet in order to join me at the breakfast bench.
“This looks lovely,” she replies as she stares down at the food before her.
“Thank you…”
“What are we, Rocco?” The words explode out of her so quickly, I think even she’s taken aback by her abruptness.
I blink back. “I assume ‘hungry’ isn’t the answer you’re looking for?”
“I thought this was just…you said you just wanted something physical.” She bites her lip. “But last night…it didn’t feel just physical anymore. And I basically confessed to you, then you kissed me even though you said you wouldn’t do that and…”
“Cas.” I smile at her flustered words. “Are you asking me out?”
My words have their desired effect. Cas immediately covers her red face with her hands. “Not when you say it like that!”
I can’t help the booming laugh that escapes me as I try to carefully pry her hands from her face. “Cassandra Bellini, I adore you. I would very much like to be your boyfriend.”
She grimaces. “Ugh. That sounds so juvenile.”
“Partners then?”
“Pass.”
“Lovers.”
“How about I just call you Rocco?” she suggests as she tucks into her food.
I pretend to think about it. “I prefer ‘boss’, but I’ll take it.”
“Is Teo your lover, too? He’s the only one I’ve ever heard call you that.”
“You see? Lover isn’t so bad, is it?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I take it you listened to the audio from last night.”
I blink at her in confusion. “What?”
“You used my surname just now. I don’t think I ever told you it before,” she gives me a funny look. “It was always ‘Cassandra’ this or ‘ Angioletta’ that.”
Right. Because Danny only told me her name was Bellini last night. But what does that have to do with the audio she took from her confrontation with Lazzaro?
“What do you think?” she asks. “Lazzaro was high as all hell, right?”
“I…”
I’m saved an answer by Teo storming into the room. “Why the hell haven’t you been picking up your damn phone?”
He freezes when he spots the two of us, and I become acutely aware that I’m not wearing a shirt.
“Morning, Vitale,” I greet him carefully as his eyebrows shoot up.
If he was suffering under any delusion about the nature of Cas and I’s relationship, he wasn’t any longer.
“Boss.”
Cas snickers at my side.
Teo’s eyes narrow. “Cassandra.”
“Hi, Teo,” she replies innocently.
“Do you need something?” I ask.
“I think you better come to the compound,” Teo declares. “If Miss Bellini can spare you for a moment.”
Ah.
Teo has worked it out, too. He surveys me carefully as if to gauge my reaction, but I merely shrug in response. “Duty calls, I’m afraid, Angioletta.”
I make a show of holding her neck as I kiss her softly goodbye.
She hums contentedly. “I’ll see you later.”
Teo doesn’t speak to me again until I’ve dressed and walked out of the brownstone.
“This just got one hell of a lot more complicated. I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing, Moretti,” he hisses as I reach my Bugatti .
I glance back at the house, where I can just about make out Cas waving down at us from her bedroom window.
“Me too.”