Page 19 of Sin City Obsession (De Salvo Empire #1)

Rocco grunted. “Fuck you.” He noticed, with a quick sideways glance, that Alessa’s face had flushed an adorable shade of red.

The almost innocent sight hit him in the gut, along with the rising need to pull her close and devour her all over again.

Which was not helpful at all in the current situation.

He tossed his seatbelt off and reached for the door. “Yes, we’re going in. Grab your gun.”

“My woman.”

What the absolute hell had Rocco been thinking when he said that? To a man who was basically an adopted De Salvo, no less?

She’d wanted to strangle him. She kind of still wanted to strangle him .

Except that anger had been more than a little smothered by some of the things he’d said after, to her.

She wasn’t used to being the one anyone got all macho-protective over.

She’d seen it in glimpses, more recently than at any time in her youth, but she’d never been the recipient.

She hadn’t been sure she wanted to be. Until she was.

Her heart still fluttered as Rocco’s resolute words, his heated stare and strong grip, replayed in her distracted mind. “Even. If.”

Alessa hadn’t been lying when she had said she loved her family.

Her parents, of course. Her home, her neighborhood—most days—and so many of the local shops and street trucks, to say nothing for the family who kept them all safe.

The De Salvos were no joke. When they offered protection, it was not a gift to be shunned.

Despite having grown up in many ways alongside the youngest of them, they were still almost like distant immortals in her mind.

Figures she would prefer to align herself with than to offend and risk the wrath of.

She certainly didn’t want to cross them.

If she let herself get closer to Rocco—truly closer—would that be treachery? Would that be the same as crossing the family she’d effectively surrendered her life for?

She drew a deep, not-so-cleansing breath, and Rocco settled a hand at the small of her back.

His warm, solid touch was grounding, stabilizing, and triggered a responding heat that flared to life inside her.

But it wasn’t the same as the heat that had sent her into debatable madness the night before. It felt … calmer .

She watched as Emanuele stepped ahead of them, reaching for the door to GreenLight. He looked their way and his lips kicked up in a smirk that felt entirely mischievous. “Give me ten seconds.”

Alessa arched a brow.

Rocco huffed. “Fine.”

Emanuele opened the door, took one step past the threshold, raised his chin, and his voice boomed from somewhere inside his broad chest. “FBI! Employees, front and fucking center! Anyone who owes this shithole money, line up on the wall! Anyone who hasn’t made that mistake yet, you’re fucking welcome.

Get out. We’re shutting this place down! ”

Alessa clamped her teeth down on her lips and shuffled sideways with Rocco, whose chest was vibrating with restrained laughter.

Five people poured past Emanuele, all of them with eyes blown wide and panic paling their features, clutching purses, backpacks, and hands as if the world was ending. Alessa distinctly heard one man muttering, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” as he half-stumbled away.

She tipped her head up and leaned closer to Rocco to whisper, “I didn’t realize Emanuele had that kind of sense of humor.”

Rocco was still rumbling with amusement. “He must be in a good mood. We better get in there before he takes all the fun.” He nudged her forward, never removing his hand from her back.

Alessa drew a steadying breath and stepped up, into the darkly decorated, backlit lobby.

She heard the door swing closed behind her, though Rocco’s presence never disappeared, and she realized that the distraction of Emanuele’s stunt had helped draw her focus.

Whatever happened after this job was done was whatever would happen.

But for the moment, she knew what was expected of her, and she had every intention of seeing it through.

“—fuck do you think you are?” Lou was snarling, standing right up in Emanuele’s space and looking for all the world like an irate, over-puffed bulldog growling up at a bullmastiff.

Which was probably an unfair comparison, because technically the men looked to be the same height.

Lou simply didn’t project the same sense of strength and assuredness.

Behind Lou, two women in similar outfits had gathered against the wall.

Alessa recognized one as the same woman she had spoken to the previous day.

At first glance, the pair were huddling up, their eyes glued to the scene in front of them with something akin to fear.

But a closer look revealed they were, in fact, slinking slowly closer to the Employees’ door.

“You’re not FBI,” Lou snapped, still aiming his words at Emanuele.

“You’re right,” Emanuele replied, his tone smug. “I’ve just always wanted to bust into a building and shout that.”

Alessa watched Lou for another beat, but while she’d enjoyed poking at him the day before, the man she really wanted was still hiding away further in.

He was probably here yesterday, too. It kind of irked her that she might have lost that opportunity, despite that the hours since had given them a chance to dig. To learn .

So she stepped around the two large men and started for the women, who were almost within arms’ reach of their goal. “Hi, there.”

“Hey, bitch—”

The women’s eyes got a little wider, their mutual stares snapping past her, but Lou’s angry words cut off.

Alessa brought herself to just inside the social standard of personal space, let her arms hang at her sides, and plastered on her professional smile.

“I can see you’re not as scared as you’re pretending to be.

And you obviously didn’t trip the silent alarm I assume you have rigged to your desk, because you don’t really want the police sticking their noses into things around here. Am I right so far?”

The bottle-blonde, who Alessa was pretty sure had also been working the previous day, looked over to her colleague and stage-whispered, “What the bleep is going on?”

Alessa blinked. She felt her head lilt slightly to one side.

The other woman, whom Alessa had spoken directly to the previous day, narrowed perfectly trimmed brows. “Obviously, they’re here to rob us. And I’m not dying over dirty money.”

Okay… There was a lot to unpack there, actually. But Alessa couldn’t quite let one thing go. “I’m sorry,” she said, finding herself lowering her voice. “Did you say bleep ?”

The blonde curled in on herself like a turtle. “I’m really freaking upset, okay? So, yes, I said bleep!”

I had no idea I would find someone like this in Las Vegas.

Both women suddenly threw themselves flat against the wall, the blonde letting out a shrill yell, and a rush of air tickled the side of Alessa’s jaw, grazing over her shoulder.

That rush was followed by a quick series of heavy, smacking thuds and male grunting noises that could only mean the glaring and insults had transitioned into the inevitable violence.

Alessa glanced over and saw Lou on his knees, shoulders hunched forward, one arm twisted terribly backward and held firm in Rocco’s grip. Droplets of blood dotted the floor, continuing to fall from Lou’s busted nose.

She had to assume Lou had made a move on her while her back was turned. And that assumption led to the obvious explanation that Rocco, and possibly also Emanuele, who was in the process of drawing shades over the exterior glass, had intercepted. Violently.

Comfortable continuing to leave them at her back, Alessa faced the women again as the dark-haired one got her fingers around the doorknob.

“By the way,” she called to them, taking another step closer, “we’re not here to rob you.

In fact, I have no business with either of you, if you could point me in the direction of Gwathney’s office, you can disappear without a worry. I’d recommend a safer line of work.”

Dark-hair glared out at her. “We’re not stupid,” she snapped. “Why would we fall for that?”

The blonde twisted her hands together and heaved an anxious breath. Then another. “M-Mr. Gwathney has … associates,” she said slowly.

“Shut up,” her colleague hissed.

Alessa reached past them and took hold of the doorknob.

“Gwathney and his associates won’t be cause for concern much longer, okay?

Just keep your heads down and your mouths shut.

Move forward. Learn. You’ll be fine.” She found herself hoping they’d take her advice.

It was a rare day when she wasn’t obligated to silence every witness in her path.

The women reared back, pulling away from her and away from the door. One looked skeptical, one was a textbook definition of a deer in the headlights.

Alessa offered them nothing more before pushing open the door and striding through.

Whether they took her advice or not, those two were not her job.

If they caused problems, they would become her job—or someone else’s.

If they were smart, if they had any survival instincts, they would put all of Las Vegas behind them.

In the meantime, she had a different goal, and it was literally in her sights. “There you are, Mr. Gwathney.”