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I smile to myself, thinking about when I was younger, when I would invite women over for drinks. I was cockier then. A total playboy.
I did well for myself, but now I’m here, alone. I’m waiting for the one beautiful woman to change my entire life.
Well, I found her. She changed me. And now, she’s gone.
I grab a bottle of Jameson and pour myself a glass. As I take a sip, the smooth burn swivels down my throat. I give a sigh of relief and sit down on the leather couch.
It’s been a long fucking day. Too long.
My doorbell rings.
I glance at the security video and see… wait, I see Madison. She’s breathing hard, appearing flustered. She takes another look behind before ringing the doorbell again.
I open the door. “Madison. What a pleasant surprise,” I say. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m, uh, sorry about earlier. I’m sure it makes me seem like a real bitch.”
I shrug and grab her hand, leading her inside. I’m hurt, but I don’t need to dwell on it. She’s here, and that’s all that matters.
“Don’t worry about it. I get stood up for appointments all the time. I knew I’d see you again,” I say.
She looks hot. I can’t help but notice, even if she also looks worried. She’s wearing a loose, cut off shirt and a tight pair of jeans that hugs her waist.
Yeah, I can’t stop staring. I want to rip the denim right off her and go to town on that body. It’s hard restraining myself at a time like this.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Grabbing a fresh glass, I pour another Jameson and hand it to her. “Here. Drink it. It’ll make you feel normal, whatever it is that happened.”
She exhales sharply and tries to smile. Even when she’s flustered, she’s a ten. Her nipples are rock hard, pressed against her cotton t-shirt. I’m drooling like a brain-dead caveman, attempting to listen with all my might. But it’s difficult to pay attention when a woman as beautiful as her is standing in front of my face.
“It’s Byron,” she says. “He’s being a total asshole.”
I set down my drink. “Need me to step in?”
She looks at me, placing her hands against my abs, resting her head on my chest. “You’re strong as a bull, Rocco,” she whispers. “But I don’t think you can take on all of Detroit’s underground. I don’t think you know the extent of this.”
I shrug. “How tough can a business tycoon really be?” I ask, running my fingers through her hair. She moves away and looks worried.
“He’s a Napolitano. I hate saying that, but he is. He comes from the bad side of our family. His father used to be the head until he miraculously disappeared,” she says. “Anyway, he knows about us. At least, I think he does.”
I grab my glass again and down the contents, exhaling through the burn. “Great, so I’m on his hit list?” I ask.
“I’m just saying, we should be careful. Can you understand why I was so weird about this before?”
I nod, but she’s starting to spiral.
She takes her hand and head away from me. “We’re from the wrong two families, Rocco. I don’t think we can do this,” she says.
Walking toward my couch, she finally takes a drink and sits.
Maybe I was right. Maybe I am losing her…
How did this happen?
There’s something she doesn’t know about me. I grew up hard. When I was kid, I used to take a lot of beatings. Back then, things weren’t so easy.
“Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” I say.
