Grace’s brow creased in a frown. “What are you talking about?”
Papa sighed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but the family needs an alliance and the Forzanis are a perfect fit. Piero Forzani and I had hoped you and Benito would get together without any coercion, but now that Benito is dead, Dino will have to take his place. The capos in New York have gained so much power over the last few years that an alliance is the only way for both our families to survive. The Forzanis have a formidable presence in New York. Piero’s brother is one of the most powerful capos in the Gamboli family. The alliance will secure the future of both families and keep our family safe from any more events like what has happened here in Vegas.”
“You want me to marry a man I’ve never met?” She stared at him aghast.
“You’ll meet him tonight. He will be your bodyguard until I can get someone permanent hired. I have it all worked out.”
A shudder ran through her body. “First of all, I’m not meeting anyone tonight. I’m singing again, Papa. I have a gig at the Stardust. Second, I don’t need a bodyguard. I have Rocco. And third, I’m not getting married to someone I don’t know or love. You can’t force me into a marriage. I thought you said you would never do that to me.”
“I won’t have to force you.” He held out a hand. “You’ll do it for me and Tom and the rest of your family. You don’t want to lose your family, polpetto. It is all we have.”
* * *
Rocco walked through the wide marble hallways of Tony’s palatial mansion as he had done many times before, first as Tony’s father’s enforcer, and then as Nico’s bodyguard when Nico was forced to kneel before Tony’s father, Santo, then boss of the family.
This time, however, he was here as his own man, on his own mission, and with his own agenda.
Damn it felt good.
Using the power of the De Lucchi name, he had been given admittance to Tony’s heavily guarded complex and obtained an audience with the man Nico most wanted to see in the ground. How easy it would be to pull the trigger during the meeting and end the civil war between Nico and Tony. But that one shot would not just end the war, it would end Rocco’s life. And right now he had something to live for that made whacking Tony an unacceptable risk.
“Frankie.” Tony looked up from his father’s old wood desk. He hadn’t changed anything in his father’s office after his father died, and the dark heavy furniture, thick velvet drapes, and dark green carpet set Rocco’s teeth on edge from the bad memories alone.
“If you didn’t give your word of honor that you weren’t here to whack me, I would never have let you in,” Tony continued. “From what I’ve heard, Nico has you wrapped around his little finger.”
Rocco tossed three gold rings on Tony’s desk—He had removed them from the fingers of the Albanians before giving them a proper Lake Mead burial. Each ring bore the signet of the Albanian Mafia and they were only ever removed upon death.
“Is this a gift?” Tony stared at the rings but made no move to touch them.
“Your hires. I thought you’d like to have their jewelry back to send to their wives in Albania.”
“If they were my hires, then those rings would indicate you were interfering in my business.” Tony folded his arms and leaned back in his black leather chair. He had a bodyguard on either side of him, and two at the door, and yet he knew they wouldn’t be able to save him if Rocco had come here on official De Lucchi business.
Rocco settled in the chair across from Tony’s desk and stretched out his legs. “Since when does your business involve trying to whack the New York underboss, hunting for his son and trying to kidnap his daughter?”
“Since when is my business of interest to the De Lucchis?”
Rocco didn’t even flinch when he lied. “You interfered with my contract at Carvello’s.”
“Ah.” Tony smirked. “I heard the Bianchis lost two men that night. What’s the problem? They’re dead. Does it matter who pulled the trigger?”
“They weren’t my contract.”
Tony leaned forward. “So you were after the Mantinis? I hear Nunzio is still alive and his son is on the run and you are escorting his daughter around. Someone didn’t do his job. What does Cesare think about that? I can’t imagine he’s very happy right now.” He tilted his head to the side, put a finger to his lips. “Has a De Lucchi ever not completed a job? I can’t remember hearing about a single instance until now. But then I can’t remember ever hearing about a De Lucchi thinking with his dick instead of his gun. How’s your ugly duckling?”
If Rocco hadn’t been trained to hide every trace of emotion, he might have curled his hand around the armrest of the chair, broken into a sweat, or thrown himself over the desk and wrapped his hands around Tony’s throat. Damn the fucking Mafia and the fucking eyes that were fucking everywhere.
“Why the fuck did you hire the Albanians to go after the boy? What’s your interest in this?”
Tony laughed. “Everyone thinks I’m the bad guy, but I have a good heart. When I heard you were looking for him, I thought Nunzio might appreciate having someone step in to save his sorry ass.” He opened his hands. “Who knows how he’ll repay the favor? Maybe he’ll go back to the don and tell him I would be a better boss in Vegas than fucking Nico who just sat back and let you rampage around his town.”
“Not if you shot up a restaurant and killed two Bianchi capos.”
Tony’s dark eyes gleamed. “Maybe it wasn’t me.”
“Maybe it was.”
“Why would I incur the wrath of two families, including the family of the underboss who gets to make a decision about who rules this town?”
Rocco snorted a laugh. “Because this is Vegas and you’re hedging your bets.”
“No betting man would take those odds.”
For the first time in his career as an enforcer, Rocco felt a stirring of unease. Usually he knew how every situation would play out before he walked in the door. Today, he’d expected Tony to reveal he was working for one of the New York capos, and give him a name, but he was beginning to get the feeling that Tony was telling the truth.
“I shot the leader in the chest. You’re saying that wasn’t you?”
“I like you, Frankie, but not so much that I’m going to strip for you.” Tony patted his silk shirt. “And if you’d shot me in the chest, we would likely not be having this conversation.”
“Unless you were wearing a vest.”
Tony nodded. “That would be prudent if one were going out on a hit. I’ll remember that for next time. Thanks for the tip.”
“Do you have the boy?”
A slow, sly smile spread across Tony’s face. “Unfortunately, I can neither confirm nor deny that he is a guest in my home. If I were to find him, I would certainly look forward to the reunion of father and son and the ensuing reward for my selfless act of kindness in tracking him down and keeping him safe. Now, if I could get the girl away from you, there is nothing Nunzio wouldn’t do for me.”
Unable to sit another minute, Rocco pushed himself up. “She’s in no danger from me.”
“You’re a De Lucchi.” Tony laughed. “Everyone is in danger from you. I’ve seen what you can do, Frankie. I was here for every contract my father gave you. I was here every time you reported back. I saw the pictures. Sometimes I even went to view the bodies. Maybe you think she’s not in danger from you, but she is, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. You can hurt people many different ways. But I don’t have to tell you that. No one knows more about pain than you.”
* * *
“Do you love me?” Grace rested her chin on Rocco’s chest and looked up at him through the thicket of her lashes.
“Yeah, cara mia,” he said softly. “I love you.” He had no other word for the feelings he had when he was with Grace. It was like he had overdosed on the most powerful drug in existence—and he’d tried a lot of them—and his whole body was flooded with pleasure. If love meant he would die for her, that no matt
er what he was doing he thought of her, that he felt her hands on his body when he lay alone in bed, that he didn’t wash his clothes because they smelled of her, that his heart felt like it only beat when she was with him, then yes, he loved her.
A smile spread across her face, and fuck, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for that smile. He reached up to touch the gold cross around his neck, silently thanking his parents for giving him something that had enabled him to shield a small corner of his heart from Cesare so that he had been open to the love Grace had offered him, and he’d been able to love her in return.
She shifted on top of him and a growl rose in his chest as his cock responded to the gentle slide of her hips. He liked her in this position, her heart thudding softly against his chest, every inch of her body on every inch of his. He’d never imagined two people could be so close, and the feelings he had in these stolen hours in the darkness were so powerful they made him believe he could withstand anything Cesare did to him.
“Will you always love me?”
He swept a hand through her beautiful hair and down her back. “Always.”
“Do you promise?” Grace pushed herself higher.
“Yes, I promise.” He leaned forward to kiss her so she wouldn’t see the flicker of pain that he knew would be reflected in his eyes. He would always love her because he had loved her already for seven years and he couldn’t imagine loving anyone else. But this couldn’t last. One day, Cesare would find out, and Rocco didn’t know what he would do. He could no sooner give up Grace than he could stop breathing, and if it meant he had to die, he would die knowing that he’d held perfection in his arms. She was everything that was good and beautiful and innocent about the world, everything Cesare had stolen from him when he had plucked him from an orphanage in Vegas and brought him to New York.
“When I’m finished school, we can get married,” she said with the certainty of youth. “Papa won’t be happy about our age difference but when he sees how much we love each other, he’ll come ’round.”
Rocco was pretty damn sure Nunzio Mantini would never come ’round to the idea of a De Lucchi marrying his daughter, and especially one ten years older than her, but he wasn’t about to extinguish the light in her eyes by telling her the truth. And even if Nunzio were to agree, which was as remote a possibility as another dinosaur walking the earth, Cesare would find a way to destroy them. But even the knowledge that this would never last, that one day he would have to break her heart, couldn’t stop him from taking what she offered. He was a selfish bastard, but he’d rather have a short time with Grace than never have experienced the emotion she had awakened in him at all.
“Anything you want, Gracie. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Will you wear a tux instead of your leather jacket?”
“If it makes you happy.”
“Can we get married outside?”
“Sure.”
“When you ask me, can you make it romantic so that when I tell our kids I can cry like my mom used to do when she told us how my dad asked her to marry him?”
Rocco swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know anything about romance, dolcezza. I just know how I feel about you.”
“Then tell me that.”
“Okay.”
She leaned up and pressed her lips against his. “Do you want anything?” she asked.
“Only you.”
“You have me. I’m not going anywhere. I mean something at our wedding.”
He didn’t want to think about the wedding that would never happen, the dress she would never wear, the tux he would never rent, and the romance she wanted that he didn’t even understand. But he forced the image into his mind so he could come up with something to see her smile again. “I want you to sing.”
“What?”
“Something from your heart.”
She kissed him again, her lips warm and soft. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“That’s easy,” she murmured. “Every song I sing comes from my heart and my heart is full of you. I’ll never run out of songs to sing.”
He wished that were true. The world would be a darker place without her beautiful voice and it would be a Hell he couldn’t even imagine when she was gone.
FIFTEEN
“How’s your dad?” Rocco walked around Grace’s room without even bothering to knock on the door. She cringed as he took in the piles of clothes and magazines on the floor, the shelves stuffed with knick-knacks she’d picked up in thrift stores, and the sewing patterns and pieces of material strewn across every surface. Yes, her room was a disaster. Some day she would get around to cleaning it, but she never seemed to have the time.
“Better, thanks. He’s out of the ICU and in a recovery room.” Her voice felt tight, and she took a deep breath and then another. If she didn’t relax, she wouldn’t be able to sing, but how could she relax after what her father had said? He had planted a seed of doubt, and despite her best efforts it had taken root over the course of the day.
“Has he talked to Nico yet?” He picked up a picture of Grace and her mom together, both of them dressed in blue, their hair up, identical smiles on their faces.
“He was about to call Nico when I got there. I’m sure he’s talked to him now. He said he would get the Forzanis out looking for Tom, and he wanted to handle my security.”
Rocco put the picture down and turned slowly to look at her. “What security?”
She sucked in her lips and shrugged. “He wanted to give me a bodyguard. I told him I didn’t need one because I had you.”
“I’m sure that didn’t go down well.”
“No.” Her heart drummed in her chest as she tried to work up the nerve to ask the question she didn’t want answered.
“Dolcezza?”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to wrinkle your dress.” He gestured to her hand, tightly fisting the skirt of her dusty rose-colored dress. It had a cream lace overlay that would hide the damage she was doing to the silk beneath, but still, she didn’t want to go on stage feeling like she was hiding anything—even if it was just wrinkled silk—when her songs came from a place of honesty in her heart.
“Right.” She smoothed down her dress.
“What’s wrong, Gracie?” His voice was so soft, so gentle, her eyes watered with the force of the emotion she’d been holding back since this afternoon.
“Nothing.”
“Are they not taking good care of your dad? You want different doctors? A different hospital? I can talk to Nico. You just tell me what you need.”
“He’s good. He’s recovering.”
“Is it the gig tonight? You know I won’t let anything happen to you. Anything goes wrong and I’ll stop the show.”
The vehemence in his tone eased some of her anxiety, and she blinked back the tears, knowing he’d seen them and he wasn’t going to let her distress slide. “I know. You own the club.”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe you should wear a jacket and tie.” She tried to put a teasing note in her voice. “There aren’t many jazz club owners in leather jackets and jeans.”
“Don’t own a jacket.”
“Ethan could lend you one. You’re about the same size.”
Rocco snorted. “Not borrowing a jacket from Ethan.”
“Why not?”
“He wants you. If I borrowed his jacket, I’d have to return it in pieces so he’d get the message that you’re mine.”
Mine.
Her heart ached with longing. For the last few weeks, she had been living a fantasy, when the reality was there was a chasm between them so wide she didn’t know if one word was enough to bridge the distance.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You sing without the mask and I’ll wear a jacket.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “And a tie?”
“Don’t push it.”
She’d sung with only half a mask before, and in Rocco’s club, with Rocco there
, she was pretty sure she could manage to go without. “Okay. But I have to see you in the jacket first before I go on stage.”
“I’ll be right there, cara mia. Just like I promised.”
“Papa said I should stay away from you,” she said, watching him.
“If I had a daughter, I’d tell her to stay away from me, too.” He folded his arms, leaned against her dresser. With her pastel shabby chic furniture, flowery prints, and white lace curtains, he stood out for his darkness.
“He said you didn’t have any lines you wouldn’t cross.”
“I have lines.” Rocco stared straight ahead. “I would never hurt a civilian or a woman.”
She smoothed down her dress even though the damage was done. “What if that person was a threat? What if they meant to hurt someone you cared about, directly or indirectly? Would you hurt them then?”
He answered so quickly she wondered if he’d even heard the question. “Yes.”
“So it’s not really a line you won’t cross, it’s a line you prefer to not to cross, but under the right circumstances you will.”
“What happened to you will never happen again.” He crossed the distance between them, cupped her face in his palms. “I failed you, dolcezza. I will never fail you again. I won’t let anything hurt you. I will keep you safe. And if that means I have to break the rules, then I’ll break them.”
“What about here?” She touched her heart. “What if you had to do something that would hurt me inside?”
“Never.”
“But what if you had no choice? What if … you … Cesare gave you a contract that would hurt me?” It was as close as she could get to asking him the question without suggesting she didn’t trust him.
“I wouldn’t do it.” His arms slid around her body, pulling her close.
“I thought death was your only way out.”
“It doesn’t have to be my death.” He bent down and kissed her, his mouth moving against hers so softly and gently she almost couldn’t believe he was suggesting he might kill Cesare.
“But … what will you do?”
“You.” He groaned into her mouth, and she wove her fingers through his hair, pulling him toward her. She wanted more. More kissing. More of his hot body against hers. More strong arms holding her tight, protecting her. He kept her safe. He had always kept her safe.
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