Chapter 65 Rocco
The ride home was subdued, the city streets still waking up as the glow of the early morning crept over the skyline. My mind stayed on Fiorella, her expression when she told me to take care of myself, the way she asked me to dinner as if it were a habit, something normal.
It was dangerous, how easy I liked it. How much I wanted.
I drove onto De Luca land, the gates shrieking as they swung open, and I parked. Opening the car, I got out and stretched, tiredness and stiffness of the last couple of days weighing down. I needed to rest for several hours before the day fully started.
I walked through the front doors, entering, but before I could even make it up to my room, I heard a voice I recognised.
"Finally decided to come home?"
I turned to see my cousin, Aria, standing in the doorway of the sitting room, arms crossed over her chest. She was not pleased, her brown eyes sharp as they looked me up and down.
I smiled. "Missed me?"
She rolled her eyes, moving closer. "Not really. But Rafael's been annoyed at how much you've been rushing around mending things. And Riccardo is just waiting it out for you to get yourself into even further trouble so he can say 'I told you so.'"
I snorted a silent laugh. "Sounds about right."
Her eyes eased slightly. "You look tired."
"I'm fine.".
She wasn't seeming to be convinced, but she didn't protest. "You ought to rest. Breakfast will be on soon."
I nodded, tapping her on the shoulder as I passed, finally making my way up the stairs.
The second I was inside my room, I let out a sigh of relief, tilting my head as I pulled off my jacket and let it fall onto the bed. The shower was short, with steam in the bathroom as I let the hot water work out some of the tension from my muscles. I had to be sharp today. There were still things to take care of, still enemies scheming in the shadows.
By the time I made it out, I was more awake, more present. I changed into fresh button-downs and dark jeans and ran a hand through my damp hair before heading downstairs.
The scent of coffee and freshly baked bread filled the air as I came into the dining room, where Aria and Riccardo were already seated and Rosalia and Rafael were too but in their own world.
Riccardo looked up, smiling. "Look who decided to bless us with his presence."
I grabbed a cup of coffee and waved him off as I sat down. "Eat up and shut it."
Aria smiled and put a plate in front of me. "I told you he'd be grouchy."
Riccardo just settled back in his chair, taking a sip of his drink. "Long night?"
I didn't answer at first, cutting into my food. "Had some things to attend to."
His gaze narrowed just a little, but he didn't press.
I had half the coffee down when Riccardo pushed back in his chair, his face breaking into a slow smile. That alone was enough to make me realize he was going to start trouble.
"So," he started, tapping his fork against his plate. "You gonna tell us about your night, or do I have to make an assumption?"
I gazed at him over the lip of my cup, already not impressed. "What are you assuming, exactly?"
Riccardo's smile increased. "Oh, you know… that you and a certain hotheaded D'Angelo had the night off together." He drew out the words, clearly enjoying himself. "In your penthouse, no less."
Aria, who had been quietly eating, startled to sit up straight, eyebrows shooting up. "Wait, what?"
I sighed, setting my cup on the table. "It's not what you think."
Riccardo scoffed. "I don't even have to think about it. The facts speak for themselves , brother. You two probably ate a meal, watched a movie or whatever, hung out and woke up in the same house this morning. Is there anything wrong with that?"
Aria blinked, leaning forward slightly. "Wait. I've been completely out of it. When did this actually happen? And why am I only learning about this now?
Riccardo chuckled. "Because your lovely cousin here is a hoarder." He swung back to face me. "So? Did you enjoy your little slumber party?"
I gave him the dead stare. "Eat your meal, Riccardo."
"That's not a no."
Aria, her eyes still only half-inquisitive, set her fork down. "Alright, I have to know the details. Because I don't know anything about this whole situation between the two of you. How come? You and Fiorella? Both of you basically the same person—cold-blooded, stubborn, deadly."
Riccardo agreed as well. "Same. I'm surprised the two of you haven't killed each other yet."
I pushed my plate away, taking a deep breath. "I don't understand the issue."
"The issue is," Aria said, tilting her head, "she's a person. She doesn't take orders, she doesn't bend, and she sure as shit doesn't appear to be the type of person to play nice in a relationship."
Riccardo grinned. "Which is why it's so interesting. You actually met someone who doesn't bow to you."
I glared at him. "That's not what this is about."
"Then what is it about?"
I didn't answer immediately. Because the truth was, I didn't have a simple answer. Fiorella and I were drawn to each other in a manner neither of us had expected. It wasn't just about strategy or power. It was something more—something deeper.
Aria regarded me for a moment before leaning back in her chair. "Huh."
I raised a brow. "What?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. Just… interesting."
Riccardo grinned again. "I, for one, can't wait to see how this goes."
I rolled my eyes again, picking up my coffee.
Riccardo was still smirking like a damn fool when Rafael joined in.
"You talk a lot for a man who hasn't yet even managed to get the girl he's been chasing for weeks," Rafael said indifferently, cutting into his eggs.
Riccardo's smirk faltered for an instant before he rolled his eyes. "That's different."
Rafael raised an eyebrow. "How, exactly?"
"She's just playing hard to get," Riccardo said, leaning back in his chair as if indifferent. "It's part of the game."
Rafael laughed. "Or she just doesn't want you."
Riccardo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offence. "Impossible."
Aria snorted. "Yeah? Because last I heard, she was still actively avoiding you."
"She thinks she is," Riccardo corrected, smiling. "But she'll be mine soon. You'll see."
Rosalia, who had been quiet throughout, agitated her coffee, looking completely disinterested in Riccardo's love life.
Riccardo, never one to let something drop, turned to her. "And what about you, Rosalia? What do you actually see in my brother, then?"
She faltered, then looked at him. "What?"
"You heard me." Riccardo smiled. "I just don't get it. Rafael's all serious and brooding, and you—well, you could've had anyone. So, what's the appeal?"
Rafael glared at him. "Riccardo."
But Rosalia simply shrugged, setting her spoon down. "I like that he's serious and brooding."
Riccardo furrowed his brow. "You like that he's no fun?"
She smiled faintly. "He's fun. Just not in an obnoxious way."
"Obnoxious?" Riccardo clutched his chest as if she'd wounded him. "That's harsh."
"Not exactly," she said, cradling her cup.
Aria laughed. "She's right."
Riccardo whirled back to me. "Do you hear this? This is disrespect."
I grinned. "I think they're just being honest."
Riccardo grumbled, leaning back in his chair. "You know what? I'm done with this. You're all traitors."
Rafael chuckled, shaking his head. "Just own up to liking the attention and eat your damn breakfast."
Riccardo grumbled something under his breath but once more resumed picking at his food with his fork.
The rest of breakfast was spent in relaxed conversations, Riccardo still flinging the occasional melodramatic complaint while Aria and Rosalia rolled their eyes at him. Rafael, as always, was composed, though there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.
And me? I just sat back and soaked it up.
Because for all the commotion, this—this—was home.