Page 49 of Unworthy Ties
I felt a flicker of guilt and unease twist in my chest. I had long gotten over my feelings for Felix, but seeing Rocco’s subtle reaction reminded me how the past still clung to me, like shadows that refused to fade.
I shook off the lingering tension, forcing my attention back to the screen. The photos didn’t care about the past, about old crushes or unspoken feelings—they only wanted to be perfected.
“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath, “let’s see if my ‘handsome assistant’ can help me make these look even better.”
As I continued editing the image, Rocco leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. The warmth of his presence sent a shiver down my spine, and I fought the urge to lean into him. I could smell the faint hint of his cologne—earthy and warm—an intoxicating blend that made my heart race.
As I adjusted the brightness, Rocco’s hand moved, his finger hovering just above the trackpad. “There,” he murmured,pointing at the subtle detail I had been fussing over. His hand was so close that the warmth of it seemed to seep into mine, though he never actually touched me.
His finger hovered near the screen, his voice low. “There. You see that? You almost missed it.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “You’ve got an eye for this. Maybe I should hire you as my permanent assistant.”
Rocco gave a faint huff of amusement, but then he went quiet. His gaze lingered on the photo, then drifted to me—steady, unflinching.
“You make things look different,” he said after a pause. “Better. Cleaner. Like they’ve got a chance to be… remembered the right way.”
The unexpected sincerity caught me off guard; the stoicism in his tone softened by something raw beneath. My chest tightened. “That’s… kind of the point,” I murmured. “I guess I just want people to see the beauty in things they’d overlook.”
His jaw worked, as if he was fighting words he rarely let slip. Finally, quietly: “That’s what you do to people, too.”
The air between us shifted, thickening with unspoken words. I felt my heart stumble, caught in the gravity of his gaze. “What do you mean?” I asked, though I feared the answer.
Rocco’s jaw tightened, and for a beat he looked away, as if debating whether to let the words out. When his eyes returned to mine, they were sharper, vulnerable in a way I rarely saw.
“That you seemein ways I don’t expect,” he said at last, his voice low, almost rough.
I held my breath, the weight of his confession pressing upon me, and for a moment, the world outside blurred into nothingness. Just us. The quiet intimacy hummed in the air, pulsing with uncharted emotions that stretched between us like an invisible thread.
I held my breath, the weight of his confession pressing on me, and for a moment the world outside blurred into nothing. Just us. The quiet stretched, charged with something fragile and unspoken, like the stillness before a storm.
My hands stilled on the keyboard, nerves buzzing under my skin. I wanted to laugh it off, to shift the moment back into safer territory, but the look in his eyes rooted me in place.
“Rocco…” His name slipped out, softer than I intended, almost a plea.
His jaw worked, the muscle tightening as if he was holding back more than he dared reveal. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, voice low but steady. “Just… don’t forget I said it.”
As the weight of Rocco’s words settled between us, I could feel the unspoken tension threading through the air, binding us together in a fragile moment of shared vulnerability. His gaze held mine, searching for a response, a connection that could bridge the gap between us.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, the words I wanted to say caught in the swirl of emotions that danced within me. In the charged silence, I reached out tentatively, a gesture as uncertain as my feelings.
My hand trembled as it brushed against his, a silent offering of understanding, of acceptance. Rocco’s eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and gratitude, his hand closing around mine in a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between us.
The tension ebbed away, replaced by a quiet understanding that transcended words. Rocco’s grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly, a silent reassurance that lingered in the space between us. And as the world outside slowly came back into focus, I felt a sense of peace settle within me, knowing that inthat moment, we had both found a kind of solace in the fragile intimacy we had dared to share.
No more words were needed as we sat in the quiet of that moment, letting the unspoken linger between us like a promise of understanding and acceptance that transcended the confines of language. And as the gentle hum of the room wrapped around us, I knew that whatever lay ahead, we would face it together, bound by the invisible thread of shared vulnerability and unspoken truths.
Chapter 25
Rocco
Fabrizio Catucci’s home always had an undertone of cigar smoke that clung to the walls like a thick fog of secrets. I stepped inside, the door creaking softly as I crossed the threshold into his carefully curated chaos. The air was stifling, heavy with the scent of rich leather and aged wood, punctuated by the ever-present aroma of cigars wafting through the dimly lit rooms. Fabrizio was seated behind a polished mahogany desk, the surface covered in an array of papers that seemed to compete for his attention.
“I presume you told Dino to stop putting his nose in places it doesn’t belong?” His eyes flickered up from the jumble of documents as he leaned back, fingers steepled in a manner that suggested both amusement and irritation.
“He’ll stop poking around. How I got him to agree, well…” I motioned to some bruises I had gotten while beating information out of a different man. “And I did you one better.”
“Oh?”
