2. Rork
2
RORK
T he town is bustling with activity, and I hate every second of it. The noise, the crowds, the constant movement—it all grates on my nerves. I’m here out of necessity, running errands that can’t be avoided, but I long for the solitude and quiet of my own space, away from the chaos of the busy streets.
My bulletproof vest prickles as I navigate through the throng of people, my mind wanders, and I find myself lost in thought. My bodyguards nearly had an apoplectic fit when I said I was going into town and didn’t want them to come with me, but I compromised by wearing the ridiculous vest under my clothes.
Fuck, I hate it. Next time, I’m just going to bring the boys with me.
Suddenly, a car horn blares, jolting me back to reality. I barely manage to step back onto the curb as a car whizzes by, narrowly missing me. Anger surges through me, and I feel the urge to chase down the reckless driver and teach him not to mess with Rork O’Malley.
I’m about to give in to my rage when a familiar figure catches my eye. It’s Anna Marino, emerging from a high-end boutique with three stunning young women who can only be her daughters. They bear a striking resemblance to her, with their graceful movements and elegant attire. It’s as if I’m looking at multiple versions of Anna from different points in her life.
Despite the years that have passed and the bad blood between us, I can’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia at the sight of her. Anna was once one of my closest friends, but our friendship ended when her fucking husband cut me in the face.
I'll never forgive Nico Marino—I’m sorry, now Don Marino, what a joke—for the humiliation he dealt me at a young age. It’s a wound that still festers, a constant reminder of the power he held over me at that moment.
But more than that, I resent him for taking Anna away from me. She was a true friend, and losing her friendship was a blow I never fully recovered from.
As I watch Anna and her daughters, I debate whether to approach them or not. I look to see whether a bodyguard is nearby, and I soon see a burly-looking man also exit the shop and whisper something to Anna.
The anger from the near-accident still simmers beneath the surface, and I’m not sure whether I can control my emotions. But the opportunity to accidentally run into Anna is too tempting to pass up, and I don’t care that she has a bodyguard. If need be, I could easily disarm him.
But the best part is the absence of Nico Marino. I quickly scan the area, and to my delight, there’s no sign of him. This is the perfect opportunity.
I make the split-second decision to cross the street and “accidentally” run into Anna and her daughters. As I approach them, I paste a look of surprise on my face, as if this encounter is entirely serendipitous.
“Anna?” I ask, my voice laced with feigned shock. “Is that really you?”
Anna’s eyes widen as she recognizes me, but her initial surprise quickly morphs into apprehension. Her bodyguard whirls around and steps in front of Anna and her girls, his face contorted in what is supposed to be a menacing glare.
I think he looks constipated.
Anna takes a small step back, her body language guarded and defensive. “Rork,” she acknowledges curtly, her tone devoid of warmth.
“Step away from the women,” the bodyguard snarls, but I ignore him.
I can’t help but notice how her eyes dart around as if hoping to not make eye contact with me. It irritates the fuck out of me. So, this is what it’s come to? Once again, I wonder how Anna could have so easily cast me aside.
Ever since that fateful day when Anna abandoned our friendship, I’ve purposefully been a thorn in the Marinos’ side, trying to encroach on their territory, approving hits on some of his men, and generally being as much of an asshole as possible.
But I’ve never done anything to harm Anna. All I’ve ever wanted to do was to be there for her as a true friend. But now, she looks at me like I’m some kind of threat, someone to be wary of.
And maybe she’s right to look at me this way. After all, I’m the head of the Irish Mob and one of her husband’s enemies.
But I also think that my appearance might have something to do with her reaction. The prominent scar that runs through my eyebrow and down my cheek tends to make people do a double take. It’s a brutal reminder of what her husband did to me all those years ago. The only time I’ve ever been bested.
Does the scar make her uncomfortable because she’s reminded of her husband’s depravity?
Good. I hope it does.
“Relax,” I tell the bodyguard, looking at him as if he were dirt under my shoe. “I’m just here to say hello to an old friend.” I turn my gaze to Anna. “It’s been a long time,” I say. “How have you been?”
Anna’s daughters watch our exchange with curious eyes. I wonder if she’s ever told her children about me.
“I’ve been fine, Rork,” Anna replies, her words clipped and guarded. “Just out shopping with my girls.”
I nod, my gaze flickering over to her daughters. I notice the intense gaze of her oldest daughter while the other two girls seem intimidated by my presence. While the younger girls’ eyes widen with a hint of fear, the eldest holds my stare with a curious and impressively unafraid expression. And she’s staring at my scar.
Sometimes, I like having the scar on my face. It lends me an air of a violent rogue, and my considerable muscle, built up over years of determined training to never lose a fight again, only adds to my threatening image.
But this girl, she’s different. She studies me with an intensity that catches me off guard.
Deciding to break the ice, I introduce myself to the girls. “Rork,” I say, my voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. “A pleasure to meet you, Ladies.”
To my surprise, the oldest daughter steps forward and extends her hand. She is the most stunning of Anna’s daughters, her black hair falling down her shoulders in loose curls and her blue eyes alight with intelligence. “I’m Bianca,” she says, her voice steady and confident as she ignores Anna’s horrified expression. She glares at the bodyguard when he lunges forward, trying to prevent contact.
I take her hand, shaking it firmly, marveling at how dainty and small it is. “Ah, Bianca. A lovely name for a lovely girl,” I remark, my words dripping with a touch of viciousness before I turn my head to look at Anna. “Wasn’t that the name of your grandmother?”
Anna squirms uncomfortably, and I can’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. It must be killing her that I’m interacting with and touching her daughter.
Bianca looks at me curiously, seizing on that bit of information, but before she can open her mouth, Anna quickly interjects, pulling her daughters swiftly away. “I’m sorry, Rork, but we really must be going. We have somewhere to be.”
I raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. “Of course, of course. Far be it from me to keep the esteemed Marino family from their pressing engagements.”
I can see the anger flash in Anna’s eyes at my thinly veiled jab, but she maintains her composure. “It was nice seeing you, Rork. Take care.”
Liar. She wishes she'd never set eyes on me. I bet she can’t wait to run home and tell Nico.
“Always a pleasure, Anna,” I reply, my tone laced with sarcasm. “Do give my regards to your charming husband.”
Anna’s jaw clenches, but she says nothing. The bodyguard ushers Anna and her daughters away, putting as much distance between us as possible. I watch them go, my gaze lingering on Bianca.
I can’t help but feel a surge of irritation course through me. It wasn’t always like this. Our friendship used to be effortless, filled with laughter and genuine connection. But then she was betrothed to Nico, and everything changed.
Even though Anna is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I’ve never felt anything other than friendship toward her. She truly was like a sister to me, someone I wanted to protect. But that fucker could never handle Anna being friends with me. He saw me as a threat, someone who could potentially sway Anna away from his grasp. So, he did what any insecure, controlling bastard would do—he turned Anna against me.
Nico has always had a talent for isolation, for cutting people off from those who care about them. And it’s clear he’s kept Anna busy all these years by pumping her full of children. It’s a twisted way to maintain control, to keep her focused on domestic duties rather than questioning the toxic dynamics of their relationship.
I glance up at the boutique’s windows, curious about what brought them to this particular store. That’s when I realize it’s a bridal shop. The pristine white gowns and glittering accessories on display make it unmistakable.
A thought crosses my mind, and I can’t help but wonder if the oldest daughter, Bianca, is engaged. She looked no older than twenty, barely an adult in my eyes. And I didn’t catch a glimpse of an engagement ring on her finger during our brief interaction.
Knowing the Marinos—and Nico—I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re pushing for an arranged marriage. The daughter looked like she had some fire in her, and I wouldn’t doubt that Nico is trying to clip her wings before she can spread them.
The only thing a daughter is good for—in the Mafia world—is to be wedded and bedded to the highest bidder.
To think that Nico and Anna would trade their daughter’s happiness and freedom for gain is disgusting. It’s a reminder of the twisted values that govern our world, the same values that tore Anna away from our friendship.
I clench my fists, anger coursing through my veins. The Marinos may think they have the right to control every aspect of their children’s lives, but I know better. I’ve seen the damage that kind of suffocating control can inflict on a person’s soul. All I have to do is look at Anna. The Anna I knew loved to get her hands dirty and eschewed what it meant to be a ‘proper young woman’, as her mother used to say.
Now, she’s dripping in diamonds, elegantly and expensively dressed, her face full of makeup.
It makes me want to vomit.
My thoughts linger on Anna’s daughter, Bianca, as I walk away from the bridal boutique. There’s no denying her beauty. She’s the kind of girl who could easily capture any man’s attention. With her striking features and confident demeanor, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
I would pay a pretty penny to spend some time with her. The thought is fleeting, but it’s enough to make me chuckle. Of course, Nico Marino would never allow that to happen. He’d rather die than see his precious daughter anywhere near the likes of me.
A vicious smile spreads across my face, so intense that a passerby turns and hurries in the opposite direction. I can’t help but imagine the look on Nico’s face if he knew that I, his most hated enemy, had the audacity to touch his daughter’s hand. The mere thought of it fills me with a sense of satisfaction.
I can picture Nico’s rage, his face turning a deep shade of red as he fumes and bellows about the incident for days on end. It’s almost a pity that I won’t be there to witness it firsthand. But then again, maybe it’s for the best. I wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his anger fuels me.
As I continue my walk, my mind wanders to the future. I know that one day, I’ll have my revenge on Nico Marino. He’s fucked me over in ways that can never be forgiven, and I won’t rest until I’ve made him pay.
Nico may have won the battle by turning Anna against me, but he hasn’t won the war. I know my time will come when I can exact my revenge against Nico.
And I’ll savor every second of his downfall.