Chapter 27 Rocco
I hadn't planned on staying.
But the second I spotted her sitting there, motionless, quiet, eyes sunken in a way I'd never seen, I knew I wasn't going anywhere.
Fiorella D'Angelo wasn't someone you pitied. She was someone you feared, respected, maybe even admired. But tonight?
She looked like something had settled on her chest, something she couldn't dislodge no matter how she fought.
And watching her try to carry it alone made something primal stir in me.
I sat down beside her on that ridiculously stiff sofa in her father's office, close enough to feel her tension, to hear every breath she took.
She didn't flinch when I placed my hand over hers.
Didn't pull away when I pulled her head onto my shoulder.
That silence between us wasn't uncomfortable. It was heavy, with all the things we weren't saying.
I held her, pushing her hair back slowly, rhythmically.
Her breath caught once, and I pretended not to notice.
I wasn't good at this.
I didn't comfort.
I didn't soothe.
But with her? It felt…necessary.
"You're not alone."
The words slipped out before I could think them through.
I meant them.
I felt her body slowly relax against mine, inch by inch.
And in that moment, something within me shifted.
This wasn't business anymore.
She wasn't an alliance anymore.
She wasn't danger wrapped in silk and steel.
She was real.
Vulnerable.
Fierce even in her silence.
When she whispered, "Thanks for staying with me tonight," my breath hitched.
I hadn't expected it.
But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it.
"I wasn't going anywhere," I whispered back.
Her body relaxed into me fully, her trust given without a word.
That trust…I didn't take it lightly.
I kissed her forehead, soft, reverent.
It wasn't about lust.
Not now.
It was about her knowing that, for tonight, someone else would carry the load.
I stayed long after her breathing slowed, long after she fell into fitful sleep against my chest.
My arm stayed around her the entire time.
And as I sat there in the silence of that room, with the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the city, a woman I was supposed to only do business with, I realised something dangerous.
I wanted more.
Not just her body, though I wanted that too.
I wanted to unravel her mind, her walls, her fire.
It was stupid.
Reckless.
Suicidal, maybe.
But I'd never been someone who played it safe.
I shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
Her lips parted slightly in sleep, and the temptation to kiss her now, seize that moment, was nearly too much.
But I didn't.
I stayed until the earliest hint of dawn crept through the heavy curtains.
I sat and watched the sun rise through the gap in the curtains, and knew one thing for certain.
I was already in too deep.
And when I finally rose, bending a last kiss onto the top of her head before stepping out into the cold morning air, I knew something else:
This wasn't going to end cleanly.
I got into my car, gripping the wheel tighter than I needed to.
By the time I left her estate and got back to the De Luca house, I did not even make it to the stairs before Riccardo and Rafael pinned me in the sitting room.
They were already sitting, drinks in hand, the fire crackling, both of them looking at me with the same knowing smile that made me wish I had turned around and walked away.
Riccardo was the first to break the silence.
"You look like you just came back from war."
"Close enough," I muttered, loosening my tie and falling into one of the leather armchairs.
Rafael raised an eyebrow, swirling the dark liquid in his glass.
"Fiorella's estate again?"
I said nothing.
That was all the confirmation they needed.
Riccardo laughed.
A low, mocking sound that grated on my nerves.
"Christ, Rocco. You're slipping."
I shot him a glare that could have cut steel.
"Shut up."
"Don't lie." He smiled more. "I've never seen you look like this."
"Like what?" I growled.
"Like someone who's trying really hard not to say he's gone soft."
I downed the whiskey Rafael handed me in one swallow.
"I'm not soft."
Rafael rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.
"She's trouble, Rocco."
"I know."
"And yet." Rafael's mouth curled. "Here you are."
Riccardo snorted.
"You slept over, didn't you?"
"Not like that"
"But you slept." Riccardo's grin was wicked now. "Sat with her, held her when she was tired, maybe even stroked her hair a little?"
I didn't respond.
I didn't have to.
"Shit," Riccardo laughed, slapping his knee. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"You're both insufferable," I grumbled, standing up.
"She's going to be a tough one that one, just don't fall and lose your mind." Riccardo said
"I'm going to enjoy torturing you more than you did torturing me." Rafael added.
I turned back, meeting his gaze.
They weren't teasing anymore.
"She's fire."
"I like the burn," I said quietly.
Riccardo sobered slightly.
"Who knew my cold brother has what it takes to fall in love "
"I won't. I'm not falling in love "
But even as I said it, I wasn't sure I believed it.
I went upstairs, their laughter fading behind me, and sat on the edge of my bed.
I could still feel her against me.
The weight of her head on my shoulder.
The softness of her hair between my fingers.
The sound of her breath catching when I told her she wasn't alone.
She was supposed to be business.
An alliance.
A friend at best, an enemy at worst.
But right now, she was something else.
Something dangerous.
I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and exhaled slowly.
God help me
I wanted her.