I laughed, pushing his chest. “Rocco.”
His mouth hitched. “I’ve been to the Netherlands.”
“And?”
“And I liked it. I would go back.”
“What about Greece?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know if he’d checked every single place on my bucket list.
“Never been.”
“I’m dying to go there.” I ran the tip of my finger down the defined line between his pecs. “What about California?”
“California’s huge.” He opened his mouth and lightly bit the tip of my finger when I ran it from his chest to his lips.
“L.A.,” I said first.
“Not my scene.”
“San Francisco.”
“Beautiful, also not my scene, and expensive as fuck.”
That made me smile for some reason. “Japan?”
“Love Japan.”
“Wow.” I smiled until I thought about my situation, and the daydream vanished. “All those places are on my bucket list, and I probably won’t visit them.”
“You will.” He said it with such conviction that I almost believed him. I turned in his arms, pressing my back to his chest again. “My perfect little Nora. I’d go anywhere with you,” he murmured against me.
For a moment, I let myself imagine that this was my life, wrapped in Rocco’s strong arms, planning trips together. I let myself imagine us in Paris, Japan, and Colorado. I pictured the scowl on his face when I did something he didn’t like and the smile he rewarded me with when I did something he enjoyed. I was smiling as I shut my eyes and drifted to sleep.
26
ROCCO
My heart feltheavy as I watched Lenora sleep. She was so fucking sweet. Too sweet. When I pieced together what her father had done, the only thing on my mind was vengeance and what better way to get back at him than through his daughter? It was what had been brewing inside me the last few days. I’d come up with ten ways to use her as bait. I’d done a lot of shit in my life, but never to a woman. It was what made me walk away from that high-paying government job. They sat a woman on the interrogation chair in front of me and expected me to do my worst, and I couldn’t. I’d already done my worst to grown men, to young men — some of whom had been guilty, others who I’d been told were guilty, but deep down, I knew weren’t. I’d done what I had to do anyway. I drew the line at women. There was no fucking way I was going to waterboard a woman. With Lenora, things were different. It should have been a no-brainer. I went to her room first to see if I could look her in the eye and still go through with what I had planned.
I should have known better, though, with the anger and pain inside me that I wanted to unleash. I shouldn’t have walked in here. She wasn’t just some woman I could hurt, fuck, and walk away from. I pushed her. I wanted her to tell me to leave. I wanted her to fucking scream. I could have let her. The walls in her room were soundproof. No one would have heard her, but I wanted her in pain. I wanted her throat to be sore today from all the screams she held back, from the sobs she wouldn’t let out. I thought she’d call it off when she realized I wasn’t going to be the kind way I had been with her before. I thought she’d look at me like I was a monster. I wanted her to, so I could leave that wall between us and get her out of my mind once and for all. Instead, she looked right at me, right through me, and welcomed me anyway. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she slept soundly. She was so innocent, and I was such a fucking asshole.
In his twisted way, Giuseppe didn’t want to hurt his daughter. Marrying her off to Adriano meant he’d have control of his land and ports, but it also secured her safety. Here, he was a nobody, but back in Italy, people wouldn’t fuck with a Salvati. Using her as bait would be easy, but I knew I’d never do it. Even if I didn’t feel this palpable, terrifying connection to her, I couldn’t do it without hurting Dominic, Gabe, and Rosie; they were my family. They were the only ones, besides Michael, who understood the pain I’d been carrying all these years, the grief that consumed me. They’d lost their mothers that night, too. And Dominic, fucking Dom, my best friend, my brother. I saw the light go out in his eyes when what I told him sank in. I saw the pain magnify as he sat with the news because his father hadn’t only been responsible for his mother’s death but also mine and Rosie’s.
“Rosie,”was all he’d said, his voice shaking.
As angry as I was, I knew it didn’t compare to what he felt. All these years, Giuseppe treated me like a son. He’d welcomed us into his house like family. He’d been one of my father’s closest friends. And in all that time, he knew what he’d done. He knew what he’d stripped us of. But I wasn’t his son. Dominic was, and after his mother died, he’d been taken to Italy to live with his father, the man responsible for all of it. I was livid, but more than anything, my heart ached for all of us. What Giuseppe De Luca had done was unimaginable. Unforgivable. He paid forty thousand dollars to kill our mothers. He paid to kill his ex-wife, the mother of his children, for God’s sake. Who the fuck did that?
I banged my head against the wall behind me and turned to leave Lenora’s room. I returned to mine and used the bathroom on the other side to shower. Bathrooms connected the rooms. I’d locked both doors that led to Dominic’s before I went to his sister’s room. The connected bathrooms from room to room were something we’d kept from the original structure. The person who sold it to us was a scientist who’d gone mad by all accounts except his own. When we got it, the square box went up and down like an elevator. We just had someone gut it, so we could make it ours.
We didn’t use it often. I’d only stayed here twice. Dean was the one who used it the most, and he’d always blindfolded people when he brought them in and out, so they never knew where they’d been. To them, when the blindfold was off, it was just a house, a nice hideout while Russo figured out their next move. Blindfolds were necessary and something I knew my brother wouldn’t like when I brought him over later. Mikey, who didn’t fuck with any of this and wanted to stay as far away from crime as possible, took the rest of the week off to help us see this through. Gio and Loren were still staying back, just in case, but Rosie was on her way down with Michael. I tried to talk her out of it, but she persisted, and because I knew Dominic needed her here, I agreed and added it to the list of reasons Dom had to justify killing me.
After I dressed, I went to his room and knocked. When he didn’t answer, I saw him sitting in the same chair I’d left him yesterday afternoon. I let go of the door and walked over, sitting in the chair opposite. All of our years together had formed an unbreakable bond that let me feel his pain as he could mine. I rested my elbows on my knees and let my head fall as I waited. It didn’t matter if he spoke or didn’t. I wanted him to know that I’d still be here, despite his father's actions. I needed him to know that I didn't blame him for anything. How could I when he’d suffered as much as I had?
“All this time,” he said, his voice hoarse, barely audible. I sat back and looked at him. “All this time. . .” He shook his head and met my eyes. “When Gabe and I got to Italy, Giuseppe cried. He fell to his knees and cried. I’d never seen my father cry. He mourned her as we did, and now, I just— Was it all fake? Were they fake tears? Fake emotions? Was it guilt and not sadness?” He swallowed hard, eyes filling with unshed tears. “And fucking Rosie. Fuck! And you. And Mikey.” He took a deep breath to control his emotions, but I felt them in my chest, pressing down, suffocating. “He took them from you. My dad.”
I’d come in here to tell him I’d be gone but would be back in an hour. I’d come in here to tell him to shower and change for Rosie’s arrival, but I was still keeping that from him. I thought I could shoulder his pain and do those things, but I couldn’t trust myself to speak those words. I could barely swallow past the ever-growing knot in my throat. Somehow, I managed to stand up and walk over to him.
“You’re my brother, Dom.” I set my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “What he did was unforgivable, but you’re not him.” I dropped my arm and stepped back to look him in the eye. “You’re not him. This isn’t your cross to bear. There’s nothing to forgive you for, and I know Rosie feels the same.”
