13. Leo
13
LEO
T he feeling of a smooth hand stroking me rouses me from the no man’s land between sleep and wakefulness. Warm lips trail up my neck, licking over his ever-present bite mark. Rocco moves slowly, using firm pressure. He swipes his thumb over my tip, smearing my precum down my shaft. It’s such a simple act, but it’s the perfect way to wake up.
“Good morning,” he rasps in my ear.
The memory of how his eyes lit up with awe when I sliced the flesh right off that fucker’s fingers Friday night sends pure liquid heat through me. We’ve been fucking like rabbits every night, and waking up in some variation of this all weekend.
I thought he’d slow down since it’s Monday. Thank fuck he didn’t.
“ Rocco ,” I whimper, pushing into his fist, silently begging him to go faster.
“You want more?” he asks, his voice smug.
“Yes, please. Please make me come, I need it,” I cry, desperate for more.
He knows I do. He knows I’ll always want more, because I’m so far past the point of caring about how wrong this is. Past the shame that clouded my consciousness. I don’t care who he is anymore, or how dangerous and fast this pull between us is.
I’m addicted to it. To him. To how he makes me feel. For better or worse.
He burrows his other arm underneath me, pinching my nipples hard, back and forth until they’re hard. Then he clamps one between his finger and thumb so rigorously that I almost split my own lip in half biting back the sound of my own screams.
The pain is exactly what I need to finish. Most of it splatters on the sheets, but Rocco lifts his hand to my face, slowly bringing it over me to his mouth. I roll over in time to watch him put his come soaked fingers into his mouth and groan.
His eyes roll into the back of his head, like consuming a part of me was a cosmic experience for him. Now he knows how I feel when I swallow him.
I push him onto his back and rip the blanket off his hard, naked body to straddle his thighs. His length stands at attention, the tip red and flushed. My mouth salivates at the thought of taking him into my mouth and down the back of my throat until I’m gasping for air again.
“Judging by the filthy expression on your face, you’re plotting something, aren’t you?” he asks. I nod and lick my lips to give him a hint. He sighs in disappointment before pulling me down, so I’m lying on top of him. He wraps his arms around me and rolls us over, then playfully bites over the mark on my neck.
I’ve caught glimpses of Rocco’s playful side, even experienced it, but it usually comes with a side dish of sadism—seasoned with the dirtiest talk that makes me rethink my morals and life decisions.
This playfulness is just because he feels like it, and I’m lowkey obsessed with it.
“As much as I want to see those pouty little lips stretched around my cock and feel your tonsils again, I have to raincheck, lionheart. I have a virtual meeting I can’t miss in 20, and still need to get dressed. I’ll need breakfast…” He smiles at me, and even though his smile is still mischievous and harsh, it’s comforting too.
I glance at the clock in momentary panic that instantly dies down when I see that the girls don't wake up for another 30 minutes.
“Fuck, I thought I missed them,” I sighed.
“Nah, I saw how important it is to you to see them before they leave. It’s a bit overkill to make them omelets, bacon, pancakes, and a smiley fruit bowl, but you’re an overachiever like that.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the cameras, but instead of raging like I would have a couple days ago, I just roll my eyes and huff my annoyance away.
“You and your ridiculous cameras. Good luck watching me now that I live with you.”
His smile twists with knowing, gaining a smug flair.
“What?” I ask, even though I know what he’s about to say. He probably has cameras in the kitchen, so he can watch me while I work like a creeper.
Thoughts of cooking his lunch in nothing but an apron or pleasuring myself on the kitchen island float through my head. I’ll give him a real show, since he’s so hellbent on watching me like the voyeur he is.
“Nothing.” I open my mouth, to needle him into saying more, but he puts his finger over my mouth. “You need to get dressed and get breakfast ready. I’ll take a plate in my office with hot coffee.”
He climbs out of bed, giving me a view of his muscular ass and thighs. He has that beefy boxer’s build and the sight of him naked, especially from the back, knocks me out.
It almost makes up for how out-of-control-obsessive he is.
I brush my teeth and wash my face, ignoring my dark circles. There’s not much I can do about them anyway. After throwing on a simple pair of pressed black jeans and a basil sweater, I slip on my slippers and rush out to see my Lucy in the hallway.
“Good morning, Lulu!”
She gives me a huge hug, then walks with me to the kitchen as she tells me all about her upcoming day. She’s excited for fractions, story time, and to see her new friend, Emma. She tells me all about her as I cook up another overachiever breakfast—eggs, turkey sausage links, avocado sliced on an angle, and some biscuits I made and frozen earlier in the week.
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all.
Lucy and I are almost done with our plates by the time Julia arrives, her uniform skirt rolled up a little too much, her shirt rumpled, and her tie nowhere to be seen. Brighton Academy has a strict policy about the dress code, and we fight about it at least three times a week since she started there.
The short of it, she doesn’t want to wear it. Yet she has to, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And no, I won’t put her back into her old school, because this is an amazing opportunity for her to get a good education. But she doesn’t see it that way, because I’m an awful older brother who isn’t her dad, no matter how hard I try to be.
“Julia, good morning,” I say sweetly, trying not to start our day on a bad note. Her scowl lets me know that I missed that boat completely. The day has gone past bad, straight to shit record time. “I’m going to have to pack you a breakfast to go so you can get to school on time. Please change into a pressed uniform shirt from your closet and fix your skirt before we leave.”
“Please fuck off,” she spits, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with coffee, even though I’ve told her a million times she’s too young to drink it.
“Jules, no coffee, you know that,” I sigh. “You only have a few minutes before we have to leave, go get dressed,” I say a little more forcefully. “We’re going to be late.”
“I don’t give a fuck about being late. I’ll drink whatever I want!” she shouts out of nowhere. Whatever has her so riled up, yelling at me isn’t going to make it better.
“Julia, do you want to talk about something that’s bothering you?” I calmly ask in a last-ditch effort. She’s trying my patience, and I don’t want to fight in front of Lulu.
“Yeah, I do. Let’s talk about how all of a sudden there are evil fucking people after us, and we’re living with a fucking mobster! You’re an awful guardian, putting us in danger. You’re worse than not having parents!” she screams at the top of her lungs.
One of Rocco’s bodyguards pokes his head into the room, and Julia clocks him, laughing to herself. “Oh no, Rocco’s big, bad bodyguard is going to report back to him, I’m so scared .”
“No, Rocco can hear you all the way from his office down the hall,” Rocco interjects, standing in the entrance of the kitchen. He walks up to the dining table and sits across from Julia. “Good morning. Why are you yelling at your brother, who works hard to provide for you and keep you safe. Who stepped up to be your parent after your mother left.”
The hard truth stuns Jules, for a moment, but my baby sister can be an absolute bitch when she wants to be.
“Oh yeah, I bet he’s working real hard,” she rolls her eyes. “Explains why he has dark circles from not sleeping.”
Lucy, thank fuck, has no clue what’s she’s implying. “Jules, can you stop yelling,” she asks her lip quivers, and I know she’s going to cry soon.
“Jules, can you stop yelling ,” she teases Lucy in a high pitched, mean imitation of her little sister. “Can you shut the fuck up? You’re so annoying.”
Lucy bursts into tears, running right into my arms for a hug. She's been such a sensitive soul since our mom left, and even though she claims to understand it’s not her fault, I sometimes think she blames herself. She wonders why she isn’t enough for our mom to stick around. Every time she gets upset, she asks when Mom is coming home, and I break her heart all over again when I tell her she isn’t.
Rocco glares at Julia, and before I can stop him, he verbally barbs her. “Wow, that’s really big of you, to take out your own inadequacy on your little sister. You’re so cool. Must feel like a real witch, because you’re certainly acting like one.”
Her eyes shimmer, but she doesn’t cry. She gets up from the table and strides out the front door to the car.
“Carmine,” Rocco raises his voice just enough so it carries into the next room. When the bodyguard pops his head into the kitchen, he continues. “Please drive Julia to school. Have someone prepare a second car for Leo, Lucy, and me.”
Lucy sniffles before a bashful smile spreads across her face. “You’re coming with us to school?!”
“Yeah,” he casually says. When Lucy rushes into her room to get her shoes, he turns to me. “You think I was too harsh?”
I take a minute to really think about it, going over what happened. Rocco made his house rules pretty clear a couple days ago, and they’re not unreasonable. The four of us should be able to live together in peace in this giant apartment.
“No, not really. I think I’m too easy on her, actually.” I’ve been struggling with Julia. Teenage girls are beyond hard—and even though I wouldn’t trade it for the world—no one prepared me to be their guardian.
He stands, taking my hand and pulling me into a hug. “You’ll get there. This phase will pass.”
“Aww!” Lulu squeals. “You two are so cute! Leo looks way happier than he did when we lived in our old building.”
I roll my eyes, because even though I am happier, I don’t need her giving him any more of an ego.
“Okay, let’s grab your book bag and lunch. Get going.”
Rocco has a smug look on his face all the way to the car.
After lunch, I sit on Rocco’s lap while he goes over some spreadsheets. It’s a lot of math, and not the kind I do. I’m all about teaspoons, table spoons, and grams, not profits and losses.
I thought being a mafioso meant Rocco was going to spend long nights out on secret criminal missions and torture poor souls in the living room… But it’s been mostly meetings, spreadsheets, blowing him at his desk, and cuddling afterward. Not that I’m complaining.
He may wear a gun whenever he leaves the penthouse, but I barely even notice it. He seems almost…normal. Like a businessman.
My phone rings, the number of Julia and Lucy’s academy popping up on the screen.
“Is this Mr. Costa?” an older female voice asks. “This is Principal Miriam Hurst.”
“Yes, is everything okay?”
Put it on speaker , Rocco mouths at me before scrolling through his phone. I nod, and her next words float around the room.
“Lucy is fine and accounted for. Julia never reported for class after her lunch. We called her to the office, and your guards searched the building, but she’s left campus.”
My mouth drops. “How can she leave? She doesn’t have a car…” My throat feels like it’s closing, and I can’t breathe. My anxiety grips me and I feel as if I’m spiraling.
Where is she?
What if she’s alone out there with this fucking psycho out to get us all?!
He could have her right now…
She can be dead right now…or worse.
I can’t see through the tears blinding me. I feel strong arms squeeze me and a kiss on my cheek. Rocco’s trying to keep me grounded before a panic attack starts, but it’s already too late.
“Hello, Principal Hurst, this is Leo’s partner Rocco Vettore. My guards informed me that another student from her grade is missing, a Mr. Michael Morrison. They’re reasonably sure they left the building together…” he pauses, and his eyes go completely dead. Like a light switch goes out behind them. “I’m extremely disappointed that despite the tuition I pay and the donations you’ve forced me to make to have my security there, this was still able to happen.”
“Mr. Vettore, I understand you’re frustrated, but we can only do so much to control the students—” she starts before Rocco shuts her down.
“Oh no, Miriam. I’m fucking livid . You will do whatever my guards ask you and cooperate. When Julia is found, we’ll revisit whether or not you’re qualified to run the academy while my partner’s sisters are enrolled there.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Vettore?—”
“No, this behavior will not be excused, Principal . The Vettore family runs this fucking city, and if you think I can’t get the school’s board of directors to toss you out on your ass and hire a replacement, you’re very mistaken. I’ll expect an update from your people within the next half hour via text to this phone number,” he barks before hanging up.
There’s several moments of prolonged silence. At least I think there is. I can feel myself sliding deeper into my own anxiety. See it piling around me, threatening to bury me alive. Breathing is almost impossible.
“Leo… Leo, you need to snap out of it, now ,” he orders me in that cold, emotionless voice.
“Yeah…” I trail off.
I hear Rocco call Giuseppe to instruct him to bring Lucy home as soon as possible. He said it’s a precaution, but something deep in my stomach tells me it’s because something horrible is about to happen. The other shoe has finally dropped.
My new reality crashes around me, the sound of the pieces shattering setting my teeth on edge.
We aren’t safe.