Chapter 70 Fiorella
I was awakened by the scent of something sweet, sugar, vanilla, warmth. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was Rocco, standing at the end of the bed, a small birthday cake in his hands, one candle lit in the centre.
And he was singing.
His voice was deep and raspy, not very tuneful, but the mere fact that he was actually doing it had my heart fluttering.
"Happy birthday to you…."
I smiled slowly, sitting up against the pillows, blinking sleep away. "You sing now?"
"I make exceptions." He smiled, coming closer. "Come on, birthday girl. Make a wish."
I looked at the candle, the tiny flame flickering like it had a secret it told only me.
What did I wish for?
The first thing that popped into my head wasn't power. It wasn't money or revenge.
It was this.
Moments like these. Quiet mornings. And Rocco.
A future with him. A family.
The thought should have scared me, but it didn't.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply before blowing out the candle.
When I opened them, Rocco was staring at me intently, a glint in his eye like he knew exactly what I'd wished for.
"What was it?" he asked, setting the cake on the nightstand.
I smiled. "If I tell you, it won't come true."
His brow lifted, but he didn't press it. He climbed onto the bed instead, warm as he pulled me into him. "Happy birthday, princess."
His lips brushed my temple, soft, lingering.
My heart did something stupid in my chest.
"Thanks," I replied, tilting my face up to his. "I'm surprised you're so excited."
He teased. "It's your birthday. I'm supposed to be excited."
I whispered, tracing a finger along the tattoos visible from beneath his shirt. "So, what now?"
"What do you want to do?"
I thought about it for a moment. I could do anything I wanted to do today. I could go anywhere, go out, have a party if I wanted.
But the truth was, I just craved this. A quiet morning. The warmth of Rocco beside me.
And, maybe later, something special just for the two of us.
"Surprise me," I finally said. "Just nothing too flashy."
Rocco chuckled. "You don't know me very well if you think I'd do something subtle."
I rolled my eyes, and before I had a chance to say another word, he climbed off the bed and retrieved a small, black velvet box from the nightstand.
"Here." He handed it to me.
I took it, fingers brushing the soft interior before opening it.
Nestled in the silk lining was a gorgeous gold and diamond jewellery set—a necklace, bracelet, and earrings, delicate but stunning.
I blinked. "Rocco…"
"Chose it myself," he said, his gaze on me. "Thought it'd look good on you."
My chest tightened. He hadn't simply purchased any jewellery —he had thought about it, chosen something that would fit me.
I swallowed as heat crawled up my throat.
"It's beautiful," I breathed, running my fingers over the necklace.
His eyes softened. "Good. I want you to wear it today."
I nodded, already picturing how it would look.
Then he bent, my chin tilting up beneath the pressure of two fingers. "If there's anything else you want, just let me know. It's your day."
I looked at him, my heart racing.
I already had what I wanted.
But instead of that, I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."
He laughed, his head shaking. "Come on, birthday girl. Let's get your day started."
And with that, I knew this was a birthday I would never forget.
Morning sunlight streamed through the penthouse windows, casting a golden glow over everything, but nothing shone as brightly as the necklace Rocco fastened around my neck.
His fingertips drummed across my flesh as he secured the clasp, his movements deliberate, measured. I caught his gaze in the mirror—his dark eyes on me, admiring me.
"There," he murmured, his voice a raspy whisper. "Perfect."
I tilted my head, running my fingers over the delicate chain. It wasn’t just expensive; it was beautiful, carefully chosen. The weight of it, the way it felt against my skin, made me feel… treasured.
I turned, looking up at him. “Thank you.”
His lips quirked. “I’m not done yet.”
I arched a brow. “There’s more?”
“You think I'd only get you one gift?" He smirked before nodding in the direction of the bedside table, where another box sat—this one larger. "Open it."
My curiosity getting the better of me, I picked up the box and lifted the lid. Inside, wrapped in immaculate wrapping, was a designer handbag—the kind I'd eyed in the past but never bought for myself.
I chuckled softly. "You pay attention.".
“Always.” His gaze darkened with something unreadable. “You should get used to that.”
Something in my chest tightened.
I swallowed, running my fingers over the smooth leather before looking back at him. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just let me spoil you.”
I let out a gentle breath. If it had been anyone else, I'd fight it, say I didn't need all of this. But it was Rocco. The way he watched me, the way he did things—it wasn't about the presents. It was about something more. Something I wasn't yet willing to put a name to.
Anyway, I teased a smile. "Okay, but if you keep doing this, I may come to expect it daily."
He laughed low in his throat, shaking his head. "You're a handful."
I smiled. "You love it."
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I was certain that he was going to say something—something that was going to alter everything between us.
Then he stepped back, and the spell was broken.
"Get dressed," he said. "I have something planned."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to tell me what?"
"Nope."
I sighed but couldn't prevent the small smile that taunted my lips. "Fine. But I'm choosing my own outfit."
"As long as you're wearing the necklace," he grumbled, his voice now lower, with a possessive note in it.
I shivered slightly. "I was going to."
His smirk increased in size before he reached for his phone. "I'll be in the living room. Don't keep me waiting.
As he turned and walked away, I looked after him, my heart doing the ridiculous thing once more.
Maybe it was the birthday magic. Maybe it was the way he looked at me.
Or maybe it was because, despite everything, I couldn't pretend anymore about what I was feeling.
I wanted to scream my feelings to him until the whole world heard.