Palazzo Rocco You Are My Antidote Novels & Stories

“He doesn’t get a bullet. He gets to live in the world we built from his ashes.” Alessandro’s mouth curved. Not a smile. A vow. “Rocco,” he said. “Burn it. Everything. But let him watch.” We walked out while the villa went up behind us. Russo screaming. Not dying. Worse. In the car, Alessandro didn’t drive. He just looked at me. At the blood on my dress. The ring on my finger. The queen in his passenger seat. “You disobeyed me,” he said. “You left me.” “I came back.”

I simply smiled and leaned to my mate’s touch, allowing myself to relax a bit as I took a sip of the juice. “Do you think that he would submit to what you said?” Leonardo asked, and Alessandro shook his head, keeping his eyes on Giovanni. He held the scotch glass in his hand, and taking a sip of it, he winked at Giovanni, baring his canines, letting him see them for a second before smirking. “Why would he? The fun is just getting started, Leonardo” **********************************

I nodded, watching her walk away and shut the door behind her. Rocco pointed to the chair in front of him. “Have a seat, bambina.” I shook my head gently and pulled the chair in front of me, sinking into it with a soft sigh. The name ‘bambina’ made me smile. I hadn’t heard Rocco call me that in years, and it tugged at something warm inside me. “I’m here because—” I started, but he cut in, reaching for an asthma pump on his desk. He pressed it to his mouth, inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a wheeze. It was a little awkward, but he didn’t seem bothered.

Fiorella The sun set low when I finally saw Rocco's car drive through the iron gates. I'd been walking back and forth by the balcony for nearly half an hour, watching shadows move across the courtyard, running over all possible reasons he might still be out this late. Meetings, strategies, acts of revenge, things men like him did when the world decided to break apart at their feet. But as the door opened and he came in, I knew something was wrong. His step was sharp, his face chiseled stone. He didn't even remove his jacket before he uncorked a bottle and filled a glass.

He couldn't just overlook the fact that Rocco was showing feelings for what belonged to him. Did he just classify Alita as his!? Rocco raised Alita's face and smell her mouth, his lips twisted his anger and disgust as he scowled. His left hand held her head in place as his right hand removed her ornaments. "You got her drunk," He said dryly, his voice lowered as he tried to subdue his anger. "Zeno need more than a little distraction" Lu replied "I know the heist went well" "No guards at all" Rocco handed him the ornaments.

—I shuddered— “I don’t envy Dario for marrying into that family. Rocco says the cartel will double-cross us. He doesn’t trust them.” Rosa, one of Mother’s maids, appeared, carrying a tray with two mimosas. “Mrs. Moretti.” She handed one to me. “Mrs. Pesci.” She handed one to Giorgia. We waited until the maid walked away before bringing our glasses together with a giggle. “To the alliance,” my cousin said. After a sip, I shook my head. “Rocco would be furious to know I was even pretending to support it.” My cousin looked at the glass in my hand. “How would he feel about your third mimosa before noon?”

Even to my own mate, I see him the way I see others. ***** “Ah, thanks for the night, I forgot to say,” Rocco started. We’re on the Ampacao mountains between the borders of Madfur and Sanguine. The only trail that’s less tricky and easier to travel through. Plus, it’s closer to the Czeslaw Mansion, Marco’s place. “Eh?” I compressed my brows in a dither. “I mean for the free stay,” he cleared. Oh, right. I was the one who paid our stay. “Why? Does Laxon now conserves gold?” I mocked.

Rocco murmured, a faint, tragic smile touching his lips. "I am a ghost." "And tonight, the ghost goes back into the dark." He turned to Roman, his face instantly turning hard and mechanical. "We use the balcony," Rocco commanded, pointing toward the heavy glass doors. "The cliffs are right below us." "The fall is eighty feet into the freezing Atlantic, Rocco," Roman whispered, his voice cracking. "The rocks at the bottom will tear you to pieces." "I have survived the Baltimore docks, Roman," Rocco replied, his voice flat.

It felt raw and unfiltered. The silence stretched until it grew awkward. I reached the last step and forced a small, nervous smile. “How… do I look?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer from his eyes. Alessandro blinked once as if pulling himself back. “Ahhem…” Rocco cleared his throat and slipped quietly out the front door without a word. Alessandro stepped closer. His gaze lingered on the curve of my neck, the way the dress hugged my waist. “You… you look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and rough.

"Give her the antidote. That's why we are here in the first place, so we can take her back to Scorpion." I shook my head, a nasty combination of nausea and hunger washed around in my belly. Romano, his face as red as a tomato, shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, glass bottle. "It’s already too late," I declared with a smile. "I never needed your help because the man I chose had already gone to great lengths to save my life. The poison has been flushed out of my system, so I don’t need your help or antidote, just a little piece of advice for you, Romano: if you know what’s best for you, you should leave Italy as soon as possible and make sure Deangelo doesn’t see you, beca