Chapter 203 Book 2 CHPT 35: Enemies Within I

Chapter 203 Book 2 CHPT 35: Enemies Within I
VALENTINO'S POV

My hand shot forward before I could stop myself. I grabbed the collar of Rocco’s shirt and fisted it tight, the fabric bunching under my fingers as I yanked him forward until our faces were inches apart.

“Perché (why)?” I growled, my voice low but shaking, my knuckles white with rage.

“Why would you throw away everything we had all these years?”

He did not flinch.

That was what broke something in me.

He stood there, calm, steady, looking at me like I was nothing more than another obstacle in his way, like he had not just driven a knife straight through my back and twisted it slowly.

“What could she have promised you,” I demanded, my grip tightening, “what could Bianca have offered that made you throw away loyalty, blood, trust?”

Still nothing.

Not a word. Not even a blink.

The silence lit my fury on fire.

My fist flew into his face with a brutal crack. I felt bone shift under my knuckles as the punch landed. Rocco staggered back, blood bursting from his nose and splitting his lip open.

I did not give him time to recover.

I grabbed him again and slammed another punch into his jaw.

“Parla (talk)!” I roared. “Fottuto parla (fucking talk)!”

He groaned, his face twisting in pain, but then, slowly, he laughed.

A low, mocking sound.

Blood stained his teeth as he smiled, and the sight of it made my stomach turn.

He spat blood to the side, then dragged his tongue over his broken lip like he enjoyed it.

“Talk!” I yelled, pulling him back into my chest, his blood soaking into my shirt, warm and sticky.

I fisted his collar tighter and leaned in, my breath hot against his face.

“After everything we survived together,” I hissed. “After wars, bullets, and nights we bled side by side. Why?”

He chuckled again, softer this time, almost thoughtful.

“So you care,” he said slowly. “You care about what we were.”

His eyes finally met mine, and what I saw there made my heart sink.

There was no guilt, only resentment.

“You ask me why,” he continued, his voice steady despite the blood. “Because I watched you take everything.”

My grip faltered for just a second.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my brows knitting tight.

“You became Don,” he said. “You became Dio (god) in this city. And I became your shadow.”

I shook him hard.

“You chose that,” I snapped. “You chose to stand by me, Rocco.”

“I stood behind you,” he corrected. “Always behind.”

Bianca shifted in the corner of my vision. She leaned casually against a car, arms crossed, as she watched us like this was entertainment.

Her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

Rocco kept talking.

“You asked why I betrayed you for Bianca?” Rocco said, his lips curling into something ugly.

“Because she made me feel human again. She does not treat me like an ordinary errand boy.”

The words pierced my chest like a bullet.

My breath hitched.

“What?” I demanded, my voice cracking. “Errand boy?”

“Yes,” he snapped back.

“That is all I ever was to you. Years by your side, bleeding for you, risking my life for you, and all I ever was was a lowly assistant.”

My hands trembled as I stared at him.

“That’s not true,” I said hoarsely. “I made you my Capo Bastone.”

He laughed, bitter and sharp.

“Yes, you did,” he said. “And only because Dante, your precious comandante (commander), got married and was no longer available like before. And speaking of Dante…”

His eyes burned into mine, filled with pure hatred.

“You respect him more than you ever respected me. But who is the one standing by your side every single day and night? Who takes bullets meant for you? Who has scars on his body because of you?”

He stepped closer despite the blood running down his face.

“It is me, Tino,” he shouted. “It is always me.”

My jaw dropped.

Tino?

He had never called me that. Not once in all these years.

The sound of my name on his tongue felt like a violation, a direct disrespect to my identity.

“So tell me,” he continued, his voice rising, “when I found a better master who promised me respect, power, and a future where I was not treated like a loyal dog, should I not take it? Answer me, Tino.”

Something inside me snapped.

I slammed him into the hood of the car, the metal denting loudly beneath his weight. My hands shook as I held him there, my chest heaving.

“You were my fratello (brother),” I said, my voice breaking despite myself.

“My blood.”

He laughed again, spitting blood to the side.

“You only remember that when you need someone to catch bullets for you,” he said cruelly.

“I am not your fratello, Tino. I never was.”

My vision blurred instantly, the edges darkening.

“And since tonight is your last night on this earth,” he went on, smiling wickedly, “I will do you one final favor.”

My heart dropped.

Since when did Rocco harbor such hatred for me? Why didn’t I ever notice?

“I will tell you why you could never produce an heir all these years.”

The words knocked the air out of my lungs.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I growled, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at me.

“Calm down, Tino,” he mocked, licking blood from his teeth. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

I crushed his jaw between my fingers until pain finally showed on his swollen face.

“Parla (talk),” I snarled.

“I poisoned you,” he said softly, almost lovingly, satisfaction dripping from every word.

The world tilted.

Poison.

“The doctor told you your wife’s miscarriages were natural,” he continued. “They were not. I bribed him to tell you those lies.”

My ears rang.

“I have been poisoning your morning coffee for the past three years,” he smirked.

“You want to know what that poison does?” he continued. “It weakens your spermatozoi (sperm). And when sperm is weak, every pregnancy your wife conceives becomes fragile.”

Everything went silent for a second until Alina’s piercing scream shattered it.

“Why?” she shouted from behind me, her voice broken.

“Why would you do this to me? Were we not good enough for you? What else do you want? Why would you deprive me of my greatest desire? Why?”

Rocco finally looked at her, his eyes empty and remorseless.

“Because you were the easiest way to hurt him,” he said coldly.

“A broken wife breaks a Don. And I could not stand watching him continue to build his empire while I stood beside him like nothing.”

Something inside my chest tore open.

All these years.

I had thought Alina was the problem.

I had watched her carry guilt and shame alone while I was the one poisoning her body without knowing it.

Tears burned my eyes, and before I could stop them, they fell.

“You bastard,” I whispered.

I hit him again, harder than before. He collapsed to the ground, coughing blood, but I followed him down, grabbing his throat and squeezing until his face turned red.

“I will kill you, Rocco,” I said, my voice shaking violently. 

“I swear on Dio (God), I will kill you.”

He struggled under my grip, yet he smiled.

Bianca clapped slowly from where she stood, her eyes glowing with pleasure.

“Bravo,” she said softly. “Che spettacolo (what a show).”

I was ready to end him with my bare hands when headlights sliced through the darkness.

Another car rolled in, sleek and black.

The door opened, and a woman stepped out majestically.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawled.

I looked up to see Nikita smiling brightly at the destruction around us.

“Looks like I missed a lot of drama.”