Page 29 of Sin City Obsession (De Salvo Empire #1)

To say nothing for the fact that she had no interest in becoming property .

Alessa pressed her hand against the flat of Rocco’s stomach. “I think I need that coffee.”

He made a sound indicative of displeasure, but eased back. “You’ll understand eventually,” he said.

Alessa aimed her frown at her coffee. She had no idea how to take that statement.

“After we check in with my father,” Rocco began, his tone normal once more, “why don’t we go shopping?”

Alessa gulped down a little too much of the piping hot liquid. “Shopping?”

He grinned over his own mug. “I still owe you a shirt, and something tells me you didn’t pack for two weeks of no work.” He took a swallow. “Let me treat you.”

Why does this feel like a trap? “I told you not to worry about the shirt. Really, Rocco, you don’t have any obligation to take care of me.”

Rocco growled low. “I have a lot of obligations, Alessa.” He suddenly took hold of her chin with thumb and forefinger, drawing her whole face up and compelling her gaze back to his.

“But, and I will not repeat myself again, you are not one of them. Spending time with you, taking care of you, making sure you have whatever it is you need or whatever it is that would put a smile on your face—none of that is a fucking obligation to me.” His brow pinched as he spoke, his tone hard despite the emotional punch of his words.

Or perhaps with the intention of driving them home. “You are my choice .”

Alessa swallowed hard. His words had a chokehold on her heart and her lungs seemed frozen in time. She could scarcely think .

And in her moment of disoriented, heavy silence, a buried memory wafted up from beneath the pile of more recent, more anguishing reflections.

Her brother’s laughter, her brother’s face, and a time when both of their futures had still seemed like things they were only beginning to embark on.

It was hard to believe how na?ve she’d been, and how much time hadn’t passed since.

“What was so bad about Tony?” Al asked as he dropped onto the worn sofa beside her and passed over the beer he’d retrieved from her refrigerator.

Alessa cracked the can with a frustrated sigh.

“I’m sure he’s a great guy’s-guy,” she said, “but he’s hardly my type.

And the last thing I want in my life is to be shackled to some guy who can’t keep his eyes on me for one single date.

” She gulped down half the can while her brother processed her answer.

“You want me to punch him for you?”

“No, you dummy.” Alessa jabbed Al in the shoulder. “If he’d done anything to really warrant a beat-down, I’d have given him one myself.”

Al shrugged, took a pull on his own beer, and sank back into the sofa. “Look, I hear what you’re saying, Lessa. But I’m worried about you.”

She turned an incredulous stare at him. “Because I declined the opportunity to fall into a relationship doomed to end in infidelity and murder?”

His lips twitched. “No, dummy,” he parroted her. “Because you find a reason to push away every guy who chooses you.”

Alessa blinked. “Chooses me. ”

Al met her stare. “Sooner or later, they’re gonna stop.

You’re gonna get a reputation. And I know that sounds harsh, but it’s the world we live in.

” He took another gulp of his drink. “You already intimidate a lot of the guys in the family, with the rep you’re building professionally.

No one’s really used to a woman who can handle what you can.

” He held up his free hand as if to ward off an attack.

“Don’t get me wrong, I respect the hell out of your work.

I’m so damn proud of my kid sister, and I don’t mind saying she could kick my ass any day of the week.

But a woman who can kick ass like you do isn’t what a lot of the guys around here look for, so it narrows your field. That’s all I mean.”

Alessa chugged the rest of her beer and slammed the can onto the coffee table.

“Choose me,” she repeated. “Why the hell should I be worried about whether or not some man and his ego chooses me?” She shoved to her feet.

“You said it yourself. I’m strong on my own.

I don’t need a man to choose me. I need a fucking partner , and maybe if he’s worth it, I’ll choose him . ”

Al groaned, rolling his eyes and letting his head fall back as she stomped toward the kitchen. His voice trailed after her. “Lessa, you know what I’m saying! You know how this works!”

She had known, of course. But in the moment, she’d been so caught off-guard by her brother’s words she couldn’t hear his point. Then she’d set it aside, pushed it from her mind. It hadn’t been a priority. A few short months later, nothing at all had seemed like a priority anymore.

She’d forgotten all about that conversation … until Rocco dragged it forward.

Alessa licked her lips and set her half-empty coffee mug back on the island top. “Could you … repeat that? ”

Rocco arched a brow. He’d clearly noticed her odd response. “The whole speech?”

She felt her lips twitch. “No. Just”—she looked up at him, the words sticking in her throat—“that last part.”

His expression softened and he reached out again, trailing his thumb along the underside of her lip. “You are my choice, Alessa. And if you tell me no one’s chosen you, or made you a fucking priority, in your past, I’m going to lose my shit.”

She smiled, a strange bubble of laughter building up in her chest even as her eyes began to burn.

Or was that her chest that was burning? “No,” she said, doing her best to hold the weird surge of emotion at bay.

“It’s not that. It’s just… Last November, I think, I’d gone on this really horrible date.

First date, last date kind of horrible. And then I crashed over at my brother’s apartment to vent about it after because that’s what we did when our dates went bad. ”

Rocco pulled out the seat beside hers and sat down, his eyes never leaving her face.

She felt her throat swell, threatening, and she fought through it.

“And Al mentioned how he was worried, because apparently I scare people, including a lot of otherwise potential romantic partners. Except what he said was that if I kept being so picky, eventually no one would ‘choose me’.” She dragged in a breath and fought to hold her smile.

“In the moment, I got all mad about it. I’ve worked hard to prove I don’t need to be protected.

I don’t need some guy swooping in and ‘choosing me,’ that kind of thing.

I heard it like an insult, even though I knew Al was really just saying he didn’t want me to chase away a good guy. ”

Her voice had started to shake, she realized. But Rocco’s hand was already there, wiping the tear from her cheek.

It struck her, only then, that that was the first time she’d mentioned Al to him. That was the first time she’d mentioned a brother at all. And she’d come right out with his name to someone who’d never known him.

For as much as the thought hurt, it also felt … nice. It was nice to talk about a memory of Al that wasn’t tainted. Or, at least, was as un-tainted as any could be.

“For the record,” Rocco said, his tone gentled, “I’m glad you didn’t let those idiotic assholes choose you. You’re mine. I’d have had to break a lot of rules if they tried to keep you from me.”

This time she did laugh. The sound was watery and abrupt, but freeing, like she was releasing something she’d held inside for too long.

Rocco smiled and continued. “And I would like to hear more about your brother, when you’re comfortable with that.

” He paused at her gasp. “I assume he’s …

connected to whatever it is that’s haunting you so badly.

I’m not pushing for that. But I want you to know that anything you want to share, anything you feel like talking about, I’m happy to listen.

Good, bad, ugly, infuriating—whatever it is.

” He moved his hand to rest over her thigh. “No pressure, no guilt. Okay?”

Alessa laid a hand on top of his and gripped it tight. “You deduced all that … from this one conversation?”

His smile turned melancholic. “I understand grief,” he said quietly.

“Yesterday, you indicated having at least one sibling. It sounded like a slip. But when you talk about your past, you’re generally careful to only specify your parents.

It could’ve been nothing, or any number of things, but the pain I saw in you this morning—that was grief.

That wasn’t hard-life shit. So, I just added all of that with this conversation. ”

Her brow pinched for a single moment at his words. She didn’t remember slipping in the diner, and on reflex she wanted to challenge his points. But it was possible she’d said the wrong thing. Why would he make that up?

Instead, she drew a breath. “You were young when you lost your mother, weren’t you?” She’d done some basic background before jumping on the plane, of course. Nothing intense. And it had been more focused around his father, whom she’d thought she’d be dealing with.

Rocco inclined his head. “Thirteen.”

She squeezed his hand. She remembered being so afraid of losing her father when he’d taken those bullets, and so grateful he’d survived.

So she imagined the pain she had feared then was somewhat comparable to the pain Rocco had been forced to live.

And she could offer only one thing in return to his raw admission.

“It’s been … about four months. Since Al was killed. ”

Rocco lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I’m never going to want to,” she admitted.

“It hurts, more than any injury.” She heard her voice crack again.

She felt her throat try to close. She clung tighter to his hand and breathed through it.

“The thing—the relevant thing—is that that’s why I freaked out the other day.

I wasn’t with him when he was hit, but I saw the wreckage of his car.

I saw what they’d done to him. And I have a real good understanding of how one plus one adds up. ”

His face strained, like he heard the poor humor in her words but couldn’t laugh at it. “And your mind re-created the scenario so many times, you’ve given yourself a trauma you didn’t actually experience.”

Alessa nodded. “Basically.”

Rocco stood, pulled her to her feet, and cupped her cheeks in his warm, strong hands.

“I can’t promise you a life free from danger,” he said, “but just from what you’ve told me, it sounds like your brother would want you to move forward.

Not to forget him. To remember the good times, and to make new ones. Just like my mother would want for me.”

Alessa swallowed hard and stepped fully into him, tucking her face up against his shoulder and allowing him to fold his arms around her.

“Part of me believes you’re right,” she whispered, “and part of me isn’t ready.

” She stretched her arms around his torso.

“I … I want to stay with you, at least for my two weeks. Is that still okay?”

He settled a hand at her nape. “Full disclosure, beautiful. I don’t plan on you ever leaving. But if agreeing to the short-term right now is easier, I can do that.” He kissed the top of her head. “Besides, your two weeks haven’t actually started yet.”

Alessa sucked in a breath. “What?” She eased back, blinking up at him, confusion swirling inside her.

Rocco chuckled as his hands settled on her hips. “You have loose ends to tie up first, remember?” The grin on his lips was utterly shameless .

Heat flashed through her. She had actually forgotten. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten! Alessa let out a groan and dropped her forehead to his chest. “I should just have put a bullet in that bitch yesterday and called it done.”

The words were barely past her lips when Rocco’s phone vibrated.

Alessa straightened quietly as he removed one hand from her body in order to catch the call. She glimpsed enough of the ID to recognize it was his father who was calling, so she didn’t question his choice not to put it on speaker.

“Good morning, Father.”

A male voice drifted out from the phone, not speaking loudly enough for Alessa to hear clearly.

She could discern that the voice sounded older and the tone was stern, perhaps terse, but it was impossible to know if that was normal.

If she hadn’t ever met Don Cavallo, she wouldn’t have the first clue whose voice she was hearing.

Rocco sighed, met her stare, and kicked his lips up in a grin. “Yes, there’s a reason two of your people are in lockdown. They crossed me, but I had more important things to handle yesterday, so I’ve been letting them stew.”

Alessa bit her lips. Of all the things for him to be calling about.

“Yes, she’s with me now,” Rocco continued after a brief pause. His expression settled. “We’re planning to come by as soon as we wrap up breakfast. Give us about twenty—”

Distinct, muted popping carried over the phone line, interrupting Rocco’s words .

Alessa’s faint amusement vanished in synch with the color in Rocco’s face. All she could think to do was rest a hand on his chest as his eyes widened and two more sounds of pop-pop followed the first set.

“Father? Father!”