Claudio exhales when Rocco steps away from him. Not breaking eye contact with me, Rocco steps forward and holds out his hand.
To pull me out of a mess of my own creation.
When our hands touch, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The fire brimming within me cries out to his. Like calling to like.
“You will not lay a hand on another woman. Do you understand me?” He’s addressing Claudio, but he holds my stare like it’s somehow tethering us together.
“Crystal clear.”
Vaguely, I’m aware of Claudio keening in agony as Rocco leads me from the room. But it’s hard to concentrate on anything beyond the man before me as we pass the giant man at the back entrance and walk down the sterile corridor.
After a moment, Rocco pushes open another door, and we find ourselves in an identical room to the one we were in before. Only this time, we are entirely alone.
“Despite what I might have implied earlier, I am not in the mood to fuck you tonight,Angioletta.”
I snatch my hand from him, moving as far away from him as I can to prove my next words. “I only wanted an audience with you. I swear.”
He looks at me incredulously, and I realize just how much he was masking over drinks. There is little kindness in his eyes anymore, and violence seems to simmer under his skin to be called upon at his leisure.
He’s a predator through and through, assessing me with sharp instinct to determine the kind of threat I might pose to him.
No, I’m not a threat to him. I’m his prey.
“You have about thirty seconds to explain before I go back in there and toss Lazzaro out the window.”
I swallow and take a second to steady my racing heart. “Are you a part of the Italian Mafia?”
He blinks at me in surprise before that crooked grin spreads across his face. It still makes my stomach flip despite the danger so evident in his eyes.
“Oh, Miss Cassandra. Iamthe Italian Mafia.”
The terror his words evoke is enough to silence me for another moment.
Mia is going to fucking kill me.
I swallow my pride anyway. “I need your help.”
“Didn’t your father ever warn you about making deals with the devil?”
His words sting more than he can ever know, and I have to look away so he doesn’t see the tears pricking my eyes.
“Please. I don’t know what Claudio did to you to deserve all this, but if you want to bring him to justice…I think we can help each other.”
Rocco tilts his head with unnerving speed. “You want us to work together?”
“I have nothing to offer you,” I explain quickly. “I came to Brooklyn on Claudio’s word and live with him at his discretion. I’m under contract to perform at theCandelabrauntil my dying breath, and if I try to leave him, he’ll…”
My voice snags at the words, but I can see that Rocco understands, probably already knows by the way he glances down at my arms, concealed once more by my father’s leather jacket.
“I need a way out,” I declare, sounding more confident than I feel.
Rocco takes a casual step forward. “And you think losing you would be a good enough punishment for everything he’s done?”
I meet his eyes with determination. “No. But it’s a start.”
Something akin to feral delight falls across Rocco’s face. “You know, there are some things that fall outside my remit.”
“Make an exception for me,” I push, but stagger back into the wall as Rocco continues his approach.
