Frank Della Rocca Novels & Stories

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.

My thumb hovered over a secure app before I tapped it, initiating the call. The line clicked after two rings. “Don Dominic,” came the familiar rasp of Rocco’s voice. Always too casual, too comfortable. “What’s taking so long?” I snapped. "Tuesday was what you promised. Today Is Friday." “Ah, buona sera, boss,” Rocco replied smoothly, as though we were old friends chatting over wine. “I see you’re in one of your moods again.” “This isn’t about moods,” I said sharply. “Five years, Rocco. Five years I’ve kept you on my payroll, and still, you have nothing to show for it.”

“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.”

Dante’s voice echoed distantly: “Where is he? Find him!” Rocco’s hand clamped on my shoulder, forcing me down. The concrete bit into my knees through wet pants. He unzipped slowly, freeing a cock that matched his build—thick, veined, already hard and leaking. “Suck it, accountant. Show me why Vitale’s so obsessed.” I glared up, defiance flickering. “Fuck you.”

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.

“Please, Aurora. I’m sorry. Don’t kill me. I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to hurt Liam. Please!” I stared down at her, disgust flooding every cell in my body. “I’m not going to kill you,” I said, ice in every word. “You’re not even worth the effort.” For a second, hope flickered in her teary gaze — until I straightened, turned to the entire room, and delivered her fate. “I am Mrs Matteo Rocco,” I said, my voice slicing through making sure it sank into that thick skull of hers. “Wife to the mafia lord, Matteo Rocco. And I promise you, Sofia… you’re going to pay for messing with my family.”

’ She demanded eyes flashing, and he smirked grabbing her wrist he pulled her tight to him, ‘Dio sei bellissima, un piccolo gatto di fuoco, quando sei arrabbiato i tuoi occhi diventano dorati, bella tigre’ [God you are beautiful, a little fire cat, when you are angry your eyes turn golden, pretty tigress] She struggled but his grip tightened and he pinned her to the wall kissing her, ‘No, no’ She tried to stop him but he was so strong easily forcing her lips apart and claiming her mouth making her body respond to his, breaking the kiss he stepped back releasing her, ‘I am Francesco, Alessandro is my younger brother and our Father is the Grand Don, Leader of the Italian Mafia in Chicago.’ Lis

Nicolas looked down at his feet, not looking at the man whose green eyes met my brown ones. “I believe that it is right to first introduce you to your older brother, more specifically, since you know HIM, at least to let you know to apologize to him for your behavior earlier…” I frowned when I saw him looking at Nicolas who shook his head at the man. His eyes met mine for a second before he looked at the man “I’m Alessandro De Luca, Aurora’s father, and YOUR father’s prisoner”