Chapter 47 Rocco
I stepped into Rafael's office, the aroma of whiskey and cigarette smoke heavy in the air. Curtains were closed, shadows covering the dark mahogany desk where he sat, fingers tapping impatiently against the surface. His jaw was set, his normal stoic expression replaced by something somber—something brooding.
I knew that look.
Rosalia.
"You look like hell," I snarled, closing the door behind me.
Rafael did not reply at once. He rotated the glass within his hand, the amber liquid picking up the pale light. Then, with a sigh, he drank it slowly before setting it down with more force than required.
"She's angry at me," he continued, speaking softly.
I furrowed my brow. "Nothing new there."
He shot me a glare, but there was no true flame behind it. "This time, it is different."
I leaned against the desk, folding my arms. "How bad?"
Rafael scrubbed his hand across his hair, a momentary flash of frustration. "She told me I was hiding things from her. Not trusting her." His voice was rough, laced with something I saw little of in him—self-doubt. "She feels like I still think of her as delicate."
I raised a brow. "And do you?"
His jaw muscle jerked.
That was all the response I required.
I took a deep breath , ruffling my head. "She's not wrong, you know. You put her in a glass cage. You protect her as if she can't handle the world she was born into."
Rafael glared at me but didn't argue. He knew it was true.
"She can," I continued. "You just don't want to believe it."
He let out a harsh breath and leaned back in his chair. "I don't want her to have to be able."
I understood. More than I was willing to admit.
We sat in silence for a moment.
Then Rafael shifted subject, his intense eyes on me. "You saw Fiorella?"
The subject change was intentional, but I let it slide.
"I did," I admitted. "She's doing the best she can."
His eyes narrowed just a little. "And?"
"And she's got a fight to win." I stood up. "Some of her men have defected. Some of her allies are in pulling back . She's taking the heat."
Rafael let out an indignant huff. "Typical. The minute there's uncertainty, the rodents scurry for cover."
"She held her ground." I glanced at him. "She's not going anywhere."
Rafael gazed at me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. "And you? Where do you stand in all this?"
I took slow breaths, hunching my shoulders. "I don't know yet."
He nodded once, taking the answer. But I knew my brother well enough to see the unspoken questions in his eyes.
And I didn't have one for those either.
The office door had opened abruptly, and Riccardo strode in like he owned the goddamn building. His usual smirk was stuck on his face, his suit was slightly rumpled, and his appearance in the room was like an unwelcome storm.
Rafael and I did not even get an opportunity to exchange looks before he started talking.
"Boys—you're not gonna believe the angel I just met."
Rafael exhaled slowly , resting his head against his chair as if silently asking for to the patience to get through the conversation. I shook my head, already regretting locking the stupid door.
Riccardo, oblivious as ever, took the liberty of pouring himself a drink from Rafael’s whiskey decanter, talking the whole time. “I swear to God, she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Red dress, legs that could make a man forget how to breathe, and that attitude—” He let out a low whistle before taking a sip of his drink. “I think I’m in love.”
I laughed dryly. "You said the same about a blonde last week. And a brunette the week before."
He glared at me. "This is different."
Rafael leaned forward at last, rubbing his temple. "How, exactly?"
Riccardo smiled like he had a secret he couldn't keep to himself. "Because she hates me."
I snorted out a laugh. "And that's a good thing?"
“Oh, absolutely.” He rested against Rafael's desk, smiling too smugly. "She barely even looked at me when I approached her table. Told me to move because I was 'in her way'—like I'm some guy." He put a hand on his chest, pretending to be wounded. "Do you have any idea how humbling that was?”
Rafael sighed, taking a deep draw on his cocktail. "Let me understand this. You're here, interrupting an actual conversation, because some woman at the casino won't give you the time of day?"
"She didn't ignore me, Raf," Riccardo corrected, showing off that obnoxious, idiot grin. "She dismissed me. Like I'm irrelevant."
I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat. "So what's the play? Charm her? Grovel at her feet?"
Riccardo's smile grew wider. "Now you get it."
Rafael exhaled sharply and stood, adjusting his watch up his wrist. "You're impossible."
Riccardo winked. "And yet, so lovable."
I shook my head, but couldn't help the smirk tugging at my lips. "Good luck with that, Romeo. Let's see how long this one lasts."
"Oh, she'll last," Riccardo said confidently, draining the remainder of his drink. "Even if I have to make her."
Rafael and I exchanged a look.
This was going to be a disaster.
I leaned back in my chair, patiently waiting in silence. Riccardo was rambling on and on about his new angel, having no idea that I was already saving this moment for future use.
See, Riccardo enjoyed gossiping. Enjoyed taunting. He was blessed with an ability to rile individuals, push buttons simply to see how they'd react. But what he always seemed to forget was that he wasn't immune to it. And if there was anything I enjoyed, it was patience—waiting for the right moment to exact revenge upon him.
Because let's be honest , this was going to explode in his face.
I could already identify the signs. The interest in him speaking, the manner in which he talked of it this girl as if she were this prize he was hell-bent on winning over instead of as an individual. And of all the things that Riccardo was not to prepared to deal with? Rejection.
So I waited.
I didn't interrupt him mid-rant with a cutting remark. Didn’t roll my eyes or tell him he was being ridiculous. Instead, I just sat there with nods here and there, letting him dig his own grave.
Because when—not if—this thing came crashing down around him?
Oh, I'd never let him hear the last of it.
I’d remind him of every single exaggerated claim he was making now. How special she was. How she was different from every other girl he’s ever met. How he knew she’d eventually fall for him.
And if she didn’t?
If she turned him down completely, left him standing there looking like an idiot?
I was going to enjoy every second of rubbing it in.
Rafael, however, was clearly done with the conversation. He got up, shaking his head as he cursed under his breath. Likely thinking about how he ended up being related to someone like Riccardo at all.
Riccardo, of course, didn't even register. He was too busy grinning to himself, probably replaying the time she sent him away again and again, assuming it was some sort of test and not a very definite not interested.
I grinned to myself.
Yeah. This was going to be fun.