Frank Della Rocca Novels & Stories

Rocco looked tense. Like something bad had happened. Massimo’s heart skipped. Without thinking twice, he spoke sharply. “What happened to Chiara?” Rocco blinked. Then he shook his head quickly. “No, boss. She’s fine. She’s safe.” Massimo’s chest loosened slightly, but his expression remained cold. “Then why are you here?” Massimo asked. Rocco hesitated for a second, then spoke. “The strongest Don in Russia…” Rocco started carefully. “It’s James Pietro.”

"You! Check on Fraser!" The man hurried to the door, peering outside before returning with a grim look in his eyes. "The bitch is right, boss. Fraser is dead." A smirk tugged at my lips as Rocco's facade of control began to crumble. "I'm much stronger than you think, Rocco," I taunted. "Not so little anymore, am I?" "I should have raped you bloody in that warehouse!" He roared. "You won't be so cocky if I'd done that now, would you?"

She was lucky they weren’t running down to the other coffee shop because of the bad wifi they had. “You motherfucker! Fuckkk” Roman gritted as he fired, trying his best not to yell “You realized that you murdered my mother and my brother!” he yelled, the waitress took a sharp glance at them again

Everyone and their uncles know that to have the Moscow Bratva owe you a favor is like having the key to heaven. The room falls quiet again. I can see the next name forming on their tongues before they even say it. Luca tries anyway. “Then… the Romanos?” I let the name hang in the air for a second, tasting it. Rafael Romano. That smug, prick from Italy. I remember him from the last summit; sharp suits, sharper smile, always acting like the underworld was a fucking boardroom. I’ve read the reports on his operation. Clean, ruthless. But never a coward.

“I suggest you speak now, ragazzo. Torture is Cara’s most favorite sport. You’ll regret not talking.” He then pulled the knife out of his thigh… slowly. Dylan Ross groaned again in pain. “I’m impressed. He holds omerta very well.” Sol scoffs. “Look at him. It’s obvious he doesn’t belong to the mafia.” “And yet he knows your name, fratello. It’s such a wonder.” I spoke calmly. I stepped to his front as I looked at him trying to lift his head to look at us. “You know the guy standing in the corner of this room.” His eyes weakly traveled to Franco. “His name is Franco as you have heard me speak his name many times. He's the best tracker. The best of the best. He finds anything and everything I

Entertain me. I bit back a grin. Me: We’re heading out to empty my stuff from my storage unit in Jackson. Del: Damn, jumping in head first now? Me: Don’t want to talk about it. Del: K There was a pause. My fingers stumbled over the keyboard on my phone. Me: How did you know Rocco was a good guy? Del: I told him I just wanted to be friends, and he didn’t try to fuck me. Del: He wanted me in his life more than he wanted me as his wife, as ironically poetic as it sounds.

“You lie better than most, but you still lie.” Silence pressed between them. Then Ricardo’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, reading the message. His smile returned, small and sharp. “Seems someone’s asking questions about you, Mateo. A friend from the past, maybe. Or a snake with a familiar name.” Mateo frowned. “Who?” Ricardo tucked the phone into his pocket. “Someone I used to do business with. Franco De Luca.” Mateo’s blood ran cold. Ricardo continued, “He reached out to one of my contacts, offering information in exchange for an alliance. Claims he knows something about you.”

“Not as a prize. As a partner. I know things—Moretti offshore accounts, hidden routes, leverage over what’s left of the families. Help me disappear, and I’ll give you everything. Including the kill switch for Eclipse.” Dante’s jaw clenched. “You fucked him. Marked him.” Rocco stepped closer, eyes locked on mine. “And he begged for more. But I’m done taking. I want to give.” His voice dropped, intimate. “Let me prove it.” The tension snapped—erotic, dangerous, three-way heat in the dark. Dante’s body tensed beside me, but he didn’t shoot. Rocco moved slowly, deliberately, until he was inches away. His hand lifted, thumb brushing my bruised lip.

I asked. He nodded. "Yes." “I am not here for marriage gossip.” I paused, letting that sink in. I stared directly into his eyes. My hand flew to the glass which still covered my eyes, I peeled it off. “I'm Diane Demora, the Luna of Delta Pack." Rocco froze. Instantly, his boots slid off the table with a heavy thud. He stared at me, his eyes widening as he took in the jewelry, the fabric of my coat, and the way I carried myself.

my father said evenly, “but if you’re here for revenge, let’s settle this and be done with it. But first, Release the girls.” Alfredo’s grin widened. “And rob me of the satisfaction? No, Rocco! You and Marco destroyed my family, and now you’re going to watch yours crumble.” Before anyone could respond, Alfredo called out. “Fantasma, join us!” Fantasma? My eyes widened in shock at the name. So he was truly linked to Alfredo all this while. My head was pounding in shock but the shock just incoming as the person who came out as Fantasma made me freeze like a rock out in the winter.