Chapter 7

Rocco

I saw her tighten her fingers around the phone before shoving it into her pocket, her face hollow.

Too empty.

As if she were holding something within.

The blood was still wet on the ground, the metallic smell hanging thick in the air. The head of the dead man was twisted to one side, his eyes open wide, his face frozen in the instant of dying. Whoever had killed him wanted to make a point.

And Fiorella was the intended recipient.

I scoffed, raking a hand through my features. "You must've gotten on the wrong guy's bad side, D'Angelo."

She didn't even blink an eyelash. "That's what happens when you're good at what you do."

I rolled my eyes, pacing around the body, trying not to dirty my shoes with blood. "You're not hearing me. Someone wants to kill you. You think I'm going to tie myself to that mess?"

She turned to me then, eyes sharp and assessing. The dim warehouse lights caught the streaks of dried blood on her shoulder from the earlier gunfight, but she didn’t seem to feel it. Didn’t even flinch.

“Sounds like you’re scared, De Luca.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Nothing and no one scares me.”

Her lips curled slightly. Not quite a smirk, but close. “Then what’s the problem?”

The problem?

The problem was that the woman in front of me had more people looking to take her down than I could count, and if I aligned with her, I'd be fighting her war.

Not that I was afraid of war. I'd lived it, breathed it, thrived in it.

But I was selective which ones I marched into.

Fiorella D’Angelo had a target on her back, and the bastard pulling the trigger wasn’t playing games.

I glanced back at the bloodied words on the wall.

You’re next, Fiorella.

A challenge. A promise.

And yet, she was standing here, calm as ever, taunting me like she hadn’t just found one of her own men butchered.

I took a step closer, lowering my voice. “You don’t even know who the hell you’re fighting yet, do you?”

She tilted her head, considering. Then, she took a step forward, closing the space between us.

The scent of gunpowder and blood clung to her, sharp and metallic. But beneath it, there was something else, something warmer. The faintest trace of jasmine and smoke, like a fire that refused to burn out.

"I'll find out soon enough," she said, her voice husky. "And when I do, they'll wish they'd never come for me."

I believed her.

But belief and trust were two different things.

And trust was something I didn't extend freely.

"That's a big promise, D'Angelo," I growled, looking at her suspiciously.

Her eyes flashed. "I don't make promises I can't fulfil."

My jaw tightened.

She was stubborn. Fierce. The kind of woman who'd rather die than reveal weakness.

And that was exactly why she was dangerous.

Dangerous people got people killed.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling through my nose. “You’re a fucking headache.”

“And you’re a coward.”

I went still.

The audacity.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. “You wanna say that again?”

She crossed her arms, arching a brow. “I said, maybe you’re just scared, De Luca.”

I inched forward, until we were barely more than an inch from each other, until I could feel the heat from her body, the sharp edge of her being.

"I don't do scared."

Her lips opened slightly, but she didn't pull back. Didn't recoil.

Good.

Because neither did I.

The air between us was charged with tension, as before a storm.

And then, still not looking away from mine, she unholstered her gun, checked the magazine, and clicked it home.

Relaxed.Effortless . Like she was already preparing for the next battle.

I stood there looking at her for a whole moment.

Then I decided.

"Fine. You want an alliance? Let's see if you live long enough to make it worth it."

Her smirk expanded, slow and evil. "Oh, I will, De Luca. You just make sure to keep up."

I laughed, releasing a rough breath. "You're fucking crazy."

She shrugged. "That's why I win."

I didn't question that.

But the question was...

Would she win this time?

Because whoever was pursuing her… they weren't playing by the rules.

And neither was I.

I breathed slowly, rolling my shoulders as I studied the woman in front of me. Fiorella D'Angelo was many things, ruthless, reckless, a goddamn thorn in my side, but she wasn't stupid.

She knew what she was working with.

She knew that whoever had sent her that message was not threatening her for the hell of it.

But she knew something else too.

She wasn't on her own in this anymore.

Not because I trusted her.

Not because I cared.

But because it was business.

Business was war.

I took my phone out of my pocket and called Rafael. He answered on the second ring.

"Talk." His tone was razor-sharp, all vestiges of the loving husband erased. This was Rafael De Luca, the boss.

"Someone ordered a hit on D'Angelo. One of her guys got disembowelled and dumped as a warning. They had her location. Had us here too."

Silence.

Then, "And you're still there?"

"I am."

Another pause. Then a slow, sage breath. "So you've made your choice."

I glanced at Fiorella, who continued to look at me as if expecting me to blink.

I didn't.

"I'm checking we're not getting ourselves into something worse."

"You're already there, Rocco. Question is, are you gonna fix it or burn it down?"

I gritted my teeth.

Rafael wasn't wrong.

“We need to find out who the devil is behind all this," I snarled. "If this has anything to do with our business, we need to know now."

"Same for me. I'll handle things my end. You handle her."

My fist tightened around the phone. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you're thinking it means." Rafael's tone was teasing. "Don't get too attached, brother."

I couldn't respond before he hung up.

I kept the phone in my pocket and took a deep breath. 

Fiorella raised an eyebrow. "Big brother De Luca instructed you?"

I laughed out. "You're a real comedian, D'Angelo."

She smiled.

I nodded, heading away from her toward the door. "Let's get out of here. We're done."

She followed me, but not before casting one more glance at the corpse crumpled in the chair. Her face remained expressionless.

We stepped out into the warehouse night, the air cool on my face. The city thrummed outside us, unaware of the war brewing beneath its pavement.

I pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a quick flip of my lighter. The flame flickered, went out.

Fiorella stood with her arms crossed, against the car. "So what now?"

I took a slow drag on the cigarette. "Now we find out who the devil wants you dead."

She tilted her head. "And what if it is someone with too much power? Someone who's not even worth the risk?"

I smiled. "And then we remind them why the De Lucas fear no one."

A quick smile played on her lips.

And then, out of the blue—

A piercing whistle filled the air.

I didn't think. Instinct kicked in.

I grabbed Fiorella and shoved her down just as a bullet whizzed by, blowing out the car window.

Gunfire erupted all around us, earsplitting.

We were under attack.

I jerked out my gun, rolling to the side as another bullet struck the ground where I'd just been standing.

Fiorella was already moving, pulling her gun and firing back for all she was worth.

I caught a glimpse of masked men emerging from the shadows, guns aimed at us.

Shit.

"How the hell did they know we'd be here?" I growled, taking cover behind the car.

"Maybe they have a good eye," she snapped back, shoving another bullet into the gun.

There were more bullets raining down.

Whatever these fucking lowlifes were, they were pros.

I looked over at Fiorella. "You're alright?"

She smiled, her jacket sleeve soaked with blood. "You care about me, De Luca?"

I gasped for air. "No. I just don't want you dead before you're going to make this arrangement worth it."

She laughed.

Another spate of bullets ricocheted off the pavement, and we had to duck.

I clenched my teeth.

We were outnumbered.

Outgunned.

And there was only one way out of this.

I met Fiorella's gaze, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"On my count," I snarled. "We take them head-on."

She grinned, cocking her gun.

"I thought you'd never ask."

I nodded.

One breath.

Two.

Then, I moved. 

And everything erupted at once.