Curious, I push the covers off my body and throw my legs over the edge of the bed. Spotting one of Rocco’s shirts, I slip my arms through the sleeves. Buttoning it up, I pad out of the bedroom and make my way down the grand staircase. I pause halfway and take a seat on one of the steps as Rocco comes into my view and I watch him forcefully open the door.
“What can I do for you, Parrish?” Rocco asks.
“Rough night, boss?” The man on the other side of the door taunts.
I don’t make out Rocco’s response or what the other guy says after that, but Rocco suddenly straightens. His shoulders square and his hold on the door tightens.
“What challenge might that be?”
“The one I’m about to deliver you,” Parrish sneers. He takes a step closer and I finally get a view of his weathered face. The other guy might be bigger in size, but this man is one scary son of a bitch. I mean if looks could kill, I’d be burying Rocco.
“Vic put you in charge for a reason, Spinelli. More importantly, he sent you to my doorstep for one purpose and that purpose is suddenly clear to me. Vic knew the consequences of his actions, that’s why he made Bianci bring you to my club. It’s why he asked me to stand with you and not against you. This city, my fucking city, is about to become a warzone. You want a place on my streets, you’re gonna have to earn it and do as I say. Your job is to protect Vic’s family, not his organization.”
I force a swallow and move down another step to listen better.
“Nothing else exists for you except Vic’s wife and his daughters. Forget making scores or climbing the ranks—”
“You want to tell me what the fuck is going,” Rocco interrupts. “Because I get the feeling you know something, I don’t.”
“You just do as your told unless I tell you otherwise,” Parrish warns. “You want to be a boss then you need to learn what comes first in this world. You need to know without heart you got nothing, and your family is your fucking heart. You keep them safe, Spinelli. You keep them breathing or so help me God, I’ll rip you from these streets and send you back to Miami with your tail between your legs. Welcome to my city, Spinelli, if you’re a good boy, I’ll share it with you.”
I hold my breath and wait for Rocco to argue with this guy. To put him in a headlock like he did with the Paulie Walnuts lookalike, but he remains silent and freakishly calm. Parrish doesn’t say anything either and soon, Rocco closes the door. He leans his head against it, and I contemplate whether or not I should make myself scarce before he discovers I was eavesdropping.
I take too long, though. He pushes off the door and turns around, his eyes instantly connect with mine.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” I lie.
Totally seeing past the bullshit, he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms against his chest.
“No?”
“Okay, so maybe I was,” I admit, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.
In my defense, no one said anything about eavesdropping. Don’t ask questions—that’s all I got, and for the most part I haven’t asked one, even though it’s kind of killing me. Like, come on, what the fuck just happened? Who is that Parrish guy and why did Rocco just stand there while he ripped him apart?
“Violet,” he sighs. Pausing, he shakes his head and uncrosses his arms. “What the fuck am I going to do with you?”
I release my lip.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I say, diverting my eyes away from him. “Are you going to retract everything you said before my nosey ass came down here and listened in on your conversation?”
“You mean the part where I asked you to move in with me?”
I nod.
“I probably should,” he says as he starts for the stairs. “But you heard the man.”
My brows knit together with confusion. Yes, I heard him, but I’m not really sure how anything he said pertains to me moving in with Rocco.
Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he starts to climb the stairs that separate us, coming to a stop right in front of me. He reaches out and fingers the button of the shirt. It pops free and he slides his hand inside the shirt, circling my breast. A moan sounds from the back of my throat as he closes his hand around it and gently rolls his thumb over my nipple.
“A man’s got nothing if he doesn’t have heart.”
And just like that, my heart grows ten times in size.
Chapter 27
Rocco Spinelli
Violet finally fell asleep around two o’clock in the morning, but not me. I couldn’t fucking sleep if my life depended on it. So, I took myself downstairs, poured myself a drink and drove myself crazy trying to figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do next. Playing house with Violet was a nice distraction, but between Rienzi revealing Uncle Vic was being transferred to another federal prison and Parrish eluding to a war brewing, I needed to up my game.
I just didn’t know how.
You see, I was at a disadvantage.
I had a bunch of posers in my circle, people waiting on bated breath for me to fail. The only person I trust is miles away in the sunshine state and when he gets word that I’m not only in a relationship with his sister but also moving at warp speed and moving her into my house—well, I’m sure he’ll have some choice words for me. Of course that’s assuming he doesn’t kill me first.
Christ, what a fucking mess.
The buzzer sounds, interrupting my thoughts and I slowly lift my head. My gaze shoots toward the door and the instant my eyes lock with my uncle’s, my throat tightens. The man is a fucking enigma. Only he can wear an orange jumpsuit and pearly white canvas sneakers and still look as dapper as if was wearing one of the three-thousand-dollar suits that hangs in his closet. It should also be noted that the man looks as healthy as a horse. I mean, if I didn’t know him, I surely wouldn’t think he’s dying.
Hell, he looks better than me.
The man may be refusing treatment and the cancer might be making a war zone out of his insides, but on the outside—it’s business as usual. I guess that’s what happens when a man still some fight in him and driven by a great force. I’m no fan of Jack Parrish, but he said something that resonated with me when he showed up on my doorstep. It was that whole sermon about heart and how you’re nothing without—it struck a chord.
Real men have heart.
They have people they love.
People they trust.
People they will gladly sacrifice and die for.
Family.
Everything Uncle Vic has done has been to protect his wife, Grace, and their daughters Adrianna, and Nikki. It’s admirable to say the least and if I live long enough to see this shit through, I hope to become half the man he is.
Power is nice, but it’s not everything.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite nephew,” Uncle Vic greets as he approaches the table.
Drawing out a breath, I round the table to pay respect to the man who has upended my life.
“You look good,” I tell him.
“You’re a shit liar,” he retorts, tipping his chin to the seat on the other side of the table. “Sit.” Nice to see prison hasn’t changed Uncle Vic—he still has the ability to see right through me. On the contrary, though, I for one think I’ve become an expert liar and I have good ‘ol Uncle Vic to thank for my newfound talent.