Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 81 - Chapitre 90

102

Zayn!

Angel's house was like a tiny box. A cramped, suffocating box that smelled of lemon-scented floor cleaner and old building dust.As we stepped inside, my skin crawled. I was used to the cold elegance of the Giordano estate with rooms so large you could lose a body in them and not find it for a week. Here, there was barely enough space for two people to stand without brushing shoulders. I think my bathroom might be bigger than the whole apartment. A single worn-out sofa sat in the corner, its fabric thinning, and a small wooden table with two mismatched chairs was pushed against a wall that needed a fresh coat of paint. It was the kind of place my father would have called a kennel.I couldn't hide the sneer of dissatisfaction that curled my lip. "You live like this?" I muttered, my voice echoing in the small space.Angel didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached up, grabbed the lapel of my expensive wool coat, and yanked me forward with a strength that caught me off guard. "Get i

Tension!

"You have a nice name," I’d said.The words hung in the cramped air, sounding like a confession I wasn’t ready to make. For a heartbeat, the silence was absolute. Then, Zayn’s chest hitched, and a muffled, snuffling sound escaped him. He was laughing.I felt the heat rush to my ears, a deep, burning crimson that had nothing to do with the blood on my hands. "What the fuck is so funny?" I barked, my voice cracking with a mix of humiliation and defensive rage. "I say something decent for once and you treat it like a goddamn joke?"Zayn looked up, his eyes sparkling with a look that made the air feel thinner. "Nothing, nothing," he wheezed, wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand. "It’s just... your face, Rocco. You looked like you were admitting to a felony. It was to die for.""I am a Giordano," I growled, my teeth grinding together. "Everything I do is a felony."I was fuming, mostly at myself. I didn't understand this. I was supposed to be the predator. I was supposed to hate h

What you taste like!

I sat there, paralyzed on that rickety kitchen stool, while the world narrowed down to the space between my face and his. Zayn was so close I could see the golden flecks in his emerald eyes, the tiny dampness on his lower lip, and the absolute, terrifying lack of fear in his expression. He knew he had me. He knew that for all my muscle and my brute reputation, I was currently a slave to the way he smelled…like cheap soap and something electric, something like a storm about to break. "You won't even deny it," Zayn whispered, his voice a low, teasing vibration that sent a shudder straight down my spine. He grinned, a wicked, triumphant flash of teeth. "I see it, Rocco. I see the way your breath freezes when I’m near. I see the way your eyes track my mouth." He didn't wait for an answer as he reached up, his small arms winding around my heavy shoulders, drawing himself into my space until I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. "Do you want to kiss me, Rocco?" he asked, his voi

Losing my mind

The city lights stretched out before me like a carpet of fallen stars, cold and indifferent as I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse suite. I didn't want to go back home yet because I didn't want to see my brother fawning over that spy cop, so I stayed away. I held a glass of red wine in my hand looking like a pool of blood in the dim light as I stretched my muscles in my bathrobe, my skin still damp from a scalding shower that had failed to wash away the sensation of Zayn’s hands on my skin. “I am fucking losing my mind.” I groaned in frustration. I took a long sip of the wine, the alcohol burning my throat. I couldn’t believe it. I was a fucking Giordano. People knelt when I entered a room and people begged for their lives when I looked at them too long. And yet, a red-headed dancer in a shithole apartment had just played me like a goddamn fiddle. He had used me, kissed me until my brain turned to mush, and then tossed me out into the hallway like a p

I want to know you!

Eve was looking at me like I’d finally lost the last of my sanity."No way in hell, Rocco," she said, her voice dropping the playful lilt for something sharper and more protective. "Angel is for the eyes, not the hands. He’s my biggest draw, and he has a solo on the silks in twenty minutes, and he is not a fucking host.” She hissed.“He doesn’t sit with patrons, he doesn't drink with them, and he certainly doesn't do private sessions.""I don't give a damn about his sessions," I growled, taking a long, aggressive pull of my cigar. "Tell the crowd he’s injured or that he’s been kidnapped. I don't care what lie you spin, but I want him in that room now."Eve folded her arms, her silver-clad chest heaving. "Last night you looked like you wanted to choke the life out of him, so I’m not sending my golden boy into a room with a man who has violence written in his DNA."The word choke made me think of something else entirely as an image flashed behind my eyes…not of my hands around his throa

Normal!

I found myself doing something I hadn't done in years. I was humming.It was a low, tuneless vibration in my throat, a strange sound that felt entirely foreign to my vocal cords. I was sitting in my SUV outside that crumbling tenement building, the engine idling with a soft purr that matched the weird, fluttery energy in my chest. I’d been there for twenty minutes already. I hadn't even stopped for coffee, let alone breakfast. My stomach was basically empty, but I was too wired on adrenaline and... whatever the hell this was... to care about the fact that my insides were screaming for food.I checked my watch again. It was 8:15 AM so Zayn should be out soon. My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, the screen lit up with a call. I didn't even look at the caller ID, I just swiped and pressed it to my ear, my voice coming out light, airy, and dare I say…cheerful."Rocco speaking!" I chirped."Ewwwww! Gross! What the hell was that?"The voice on the other end was a sharp rasp that immedi

Ego!

The school was a sensory overload I wasn't prepared for. As I stepped out of the SUV, the air was filled with the high-pitched sound of children shouting, the thud of a ball hitting a brick wall, and the smell of cut grass and old floor wax.I felt like an alien who had just landed on a foreign planet. My childhood had been a series of dark rooms, hushed whispers from a terrified mother, and later, the cold silence of tutors in the Giordano mansion. I never had the opportunity to go to a school before. When I was with my mother, I was barely allowed outside the house because she was trying to hide me from my father.And when my father finally found me, I was home schooled with my brothers.I’d never seen this many kids in one place before looking so joyful and happy. Back then, we only had weapons to fight amongst ourselves in that hell hole. But these kids, they looked so... small..so fragile and happy."You coming?" Zayn asked, glancing back at me. "Yeah," I muttered, adjusting m

Date?

The diner he took me was tucked away in a corner of the city that seemed forgotten by time, squeezed between two leaning brick buildings. It was called Malee’s, and the sign was so faded you could barely read the name, but the scent hit me the moment I stepped out of the SUV, a sharp aroma of lemongrass, roasted chilies, and something sweet and nutty.I looked at the peeling green paint and the mismatched chairs through the window. "How do you even find a place like this?" I asked, leaning against the car. It was miles away from the district where Zayn lived.Zayn jumped out, looking refreshed, his hair bun slightly messy from the wind. "I worked here when I first arrived in the city," he said, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Long before Eve found me and had me come work at Elysium. I was a server, running plates of Pad Thai until my feet bled. It’s where I learned that people are usually more honest when they’re hungry." He grinned. I chucked, following him toward the door. "And Eve

Domestic feelings!

“Fuck off,” Zayn snapped, wrenching his hand free, then he tried to keep moving, but that thick-necked waste of space with grease under his fingernails grabbed his bicep and yanked him back. "Hey, I’m fucking talking to you, sweetheart! Don't be a tease. My friends think you're shy." He laughed and the others continued whistling, a sound that made my skin crawl. "Give him some face, twink!" one of them yelled."I'm not interested," Zayn said, his voice tight. He tried to pull away again, but the man’s hand shot up, tangling his fingers into Zayn’s hair and yanking his head back so hard Zayn let out a sharp gasp of pain."Listen here, you little whore," the man sneered, his breath likely smelling of the same trash he was spewing. "Why are you trying to act all principled? You look like you hop on dicks for money you lil bitch so just tell us your damn fees and I'll book you…"He didn't finish the sentence. Well...he simply couldn't.I didn't even realize I was moving until my fist co

You don't know shit!

The apartment was quiet, the only sound, the hum of the old refrigerator that seemed like it was fighting for its life and the rustle of medical tape.I sat on the edge of his sofa, my large frame making the furniture groan, while Zayn knelt between my legs. He was meticulous, his brow furrowed in concentration as he dabbed antiseptic onto my split knuckles. His touch was light, a jarring contrast to the violence those hands had just witnessed. I couldn't stop staring at him. Up close, I could see the faint tremor in his fingers, the way his jaw was set tight."Stop staring," he murmured, not looking up. "It’s creepy.""I wasn't staring," I said, my voice sounding smaller than I wanted to sound. I looked away, focus shifting to a chipped vase on his shelf, but my eyes inevitably drifted back to the curve of his neck.He finished wrapping the bandage, the white gauze stark against my scarred skin. He didn't let go of my hand immediately. He looked at the bandage, then finally met my g

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