Chapter 9
The six bodyguards remained perfectly motionless as Rocco approached, a wall of dark, tailored suits standing guard under the bright, elegant chandeliers. At a subtle nod from Rocco, the men parted, stepping back to allow the Mafia boss access to the woman trembling on the upholstered bench.
Bianca looked up. Her elegant formal dress was wrinkled, her fair, rosy skin blotchy from crying. The luxurious diamonds on her ears and wrists now looked absurd against the backdrop of her total, undeniable ruin.
"Rocco, please, you have to let me explain," Bianca whimpered, her voice hoarse. She tried to reach out toward him, but the immediate, menacing shift in the bodyguards' posture forced her to pull her hands back to her lap. "It was a mistake. I was stressed. The wedding planning..."
Rocco did not speak immediately. He stood before her, his broad shoulders blocking the bright light of the corridor, casting a long, dark shadow over her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the torn halves of the encrypted transcript, letting the pieces flutter to the floor at her feet.
Bianca’s eyes dropped to the papers. The moment she recognized the text, all the remaining color drained from her face. Her breath hitched in a sharp, horrified gasp.
"You thought... you could break him," Rocco said. His voice was no longer loud or forceful; it was a quiet, lethal vibration that cut straight to her bones. "You believed... that a three-year-old child... was a suitable target... for your pathetic espionage."
"They forced me, Rocco!" Bianca shrieked, instantly abandoning her previous lies to construct a new defense. "The Morettis, they threatened my daughter! They said if I didn't feed them information and push the boy, they would kill Ava! I was just a pawn!"
"A pawn," Rocco repeated slowly, tilting his head slightly. "A pawn... does not smile... while she tortures a child in the dark."
He took a slow, deliberate step closer. The sheer, intimidating masculinity of the veteran boss completely suffocated her.
"Your daughter... was perfectly safe... sleeping in a warm bed," Rocco stated, his cold eyes piercing through her fragile excuses. "While you... shoved my son onto the floor. You enjoyed it, Bianca. You relished the power you thought you held over my blood."
"What are you going to do to me?" Bianca choked out, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She looked at the six stone-faced men surrounding her. "You can't kill me! The Morettis will retaliate! It will start a war!"
"The war," Rocco whispered, leaning down so his handsome, angular face was just inches from hers, "started the moment... you laid your hands... on my son."
He reached out with his right hand. With a smooth, unyielding motion, he grabbed her left hand and violently pulled the massive diamond engagement ring from her finger. Bianca let out a sharp cry of pain, but she did not resist.
Rocco held the ring up, examining it for a brief second in the bright light, before slipping it into his vest pocket.
"You are no longer a guest in this house," Rocco declared softly. He stood up to his full height, turning his back on her entirely. He looked at his lead bodyguard. "Take her and the girl. Strip them of everything I paid for. Drive them to the Moretti compound... and throw them out at the front gates."
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"Boss, they'll know we've uncovered the plot," the guard noted.
"That," Rocco said, a dark, terrifying smile touching the corners of his lips, "is exactly the point."
