Page 3 of Unworthy Ties
My heart stuttered nervously. Rocco and I had never spoken a full sentence to each other before this, and now his face was a mere inch from mine.
“You’ll come to find out,Piccola, that I do.”
Chapter 2
Rocco
“By the look on your face, I take it the conversation went horribly,” Felix said, a grimace on his face.
We had left the Coscia’s mansion, and Felix had gone back to my penthouse. I took a moment to answer, slumping onto the plush leather couch and massaging my temples. My eyes were drawn towards the ceiling-to-floor window that offered an arresting view of the cityscape. “You could say that,” I muttered.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, not even asking as he broke into my stash of expensive alcohol. “I guess I shouldn’t have teased her all these years.”
Teasedwas putting it lightly. When Felix was twenty, he found it hysterical the ten-year-old Coscia girl had a crush on him. He would mess with her every chance he got, pretending to be charmed by her little-girl antics while laughing it off behind herback. He didn’t realize that these small gestures of attention had been adding fuel to the fire of her infatuation.
Felix had thought it was a silly crush that would disappear eventually. Ten years later, it was stronger than ever.
“She’ll get over it,” I said. But even as I said it, I wasn’t sure if it was the truth.
Felix poured himself a drink; far too much for someone who had work the next day. “She’ll realize you’re the better twin suited for marriage. Smart. Responsible. Unusually level-headed.”
Marriage.It wasn’t something that was on my radar at all. I had always assumed I had at least another five years before I needed to look for a romantic partner, but that was before Leone Alto was killed and the Mafia world was shaken.
Leone Alto, once the strongest of the five mafia families, was brutally murdered. Someone put a bomb in the restaurant he was at, and the resulting explosion had left nothing of his body but charred fragments. The news had hit the underworld like a sledgehammer—if Leone could be taken out so brutally, then no one was safe.
With the killer on the loose, relations between the remaining families had been shaky. Alliances were being made to strengthen bonds and maintain order. Marriage was one bond that, while archaic, was still highly regarded amongst our kind.
Not that Gabriella would be the worst person in the world to be married to. To put in bluntly, she was fucking hot. The first time I noticed was three days after her nineteenth birthday when she was dressed in a figure-hugging dress that showcased her body and a temperament to match. She was strong, smart, and fiery. Felix had laughed it off as “Coscia’s little girl finally growing up,” but I had also seen something else.
I saw potential. But in the Mafia world, potential could be as dangerous as a loaded gun.
I changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on my future wife for too long. “Where are the other three?” I said, referring to our friends Ettore, Emilio and Vincenzo.
“Probably off dicking their wives somewhere,” Felix shrugged, taking another sip of his drink.
“Felix,” I said sternly. I didn’t need to finish my sentence for him to know I was reprimanding him.
“Sorry,” he replied. “I think Vincenzo’s woman is technically his girlfriend.” A smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Ignoring his feeble attempt at humor, I refilled my glass. The alcohol was a welcome distraction from the nagging thoughts in my head. The Mafia world was changing, and I had to change with it, whether I liked it or not.
Letting out a deep sigh at Felix’s typical irreverence, I raised the glass in a mock toast before proceeding to drain its contents in one swift gulp. The alcohol burned as it slid down my throat, but it was a welcome feeling, taking away some of the unease that had been gnawing at me since the news of Leone’s murder.
Two drinks in, my friends finally arrived, looking as if they’d seen better days. Ettore’s eye was swollen shut and Emilio had a noticeable limp. Vincenzo, on the other hand, looked untouched, but that wasn’t surprising. The man was over six and a half feet tall and made of muscle.
“The fuck happened?” Felix asked, eyeing their battered bodies.
Emilio winced as he lowered himself into the nearest chair. “Just a small misunderstanding with some of Santino’s guys.”
“Misunderstanding,” Ettore scoffed, nursing his eye with the back of his hand. “You call getting into a bloody brawl over a game of poker a ‘small misunderstanding’?”
“Consider it an occupational hazard,” Emilio retorted, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Ettore responded with a grunt, sinking deeper into his chair.
I looked at Vincenzo, who, after myself, was the most rational man in our friend group. He shook his head slightly, showing that he did not approve of the so-called “small misunderstanding.”
Of course not. Emilio probably said something stupid, and Ettore jumped in to defend his honor, as usual. Vincenzo had probably joined in because he never left his friends to fend for themselves.
“You can’t just pull that shit right now,” I lectured them, pinning each with a stern gaze. “With the status of our world.”
