Page 46 of The Bratty Heir

"I was so scared," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "When I saw you go down, I thought... I thought I'd lost you."

Victor's eyes softened, a vulnerability there that Rocco had rarely seen. "Never," he growled, pulling Rocco down for a gentle kiss. "You're stuck with me, remember? No matter what happens, I'll always find my way back to you."

Rocco melted into the kiss, pouring all his fear and relief and desperate love into it. When they finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against Victor's.

"What do we do now?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

Victor's jaw set, determination hardening his features. "We fight back," he said grimly. "We find out who's behind this, and we make them pay. For everything they've done, everything they've taken from us."

Rocco nodded, feeling a spark of that familiar fire igniting in his chest. This was the Victor he knew—strong, unyielding, a force of nature in a tailored suit.

"Together?" he asked, needing the reassurance.

Victor's smile was fierce and proud. "Always, baby boy. You and me against the world."

As the first rays of dawn began to creep through the windows, Rocco felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and betrayal. But with Victor by his side, he knew they could face anything.

They were more than lovers, more than partners. They were two halves of a whole, forged in fire and blood. And anyone who dared come between them would learn just how deadly that bond could be.

The game had changed. The stakes were higher than ever. But Rocco was ready. Ready to fight, ready to lead, ready to become the man—the don—he was always meant to be.

With one last lingering kiss, Rocco stood, squaring his shoulders. It was time to take back what was theirs. Time to show the world exactly what happened when you crossed a Rossetti.

And God help anyone who got in their way.

CHAPTER 18

RETRIBUTION'S EDGE

The penthouse suite of the Rossetti tower hummed with tension, a war room disguised in luxurious trappings. Rocco stood before a wall of screens, his eyes hard as he surveyed the web of connections and betrayals laid bare before him.

Victor lounged in a nearby chair, his wound still tender but healing. His gaze never left Rocco, a mixture of pride and hunger simmering beneath the surface.

"Run it by me again, baby boy," Victor growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to make sure we haven't missed anything."

Rocco nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Carmine was just the tip of the iceberg. We've uncovered a network of traitors spanning three families, all feeding information to Bianchi. But the real puppet master..." He paused, jaw clenching. "It's my uncle, Antonio. He's been playing both sides, positioning himself to take over once the dust settles."

Victor's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam sharpening his features. "And your father?"

"In the dark," Rocco confirmed. "But not for much longer. We're meeting him in an hour to lay it all out."

A slow, vicious smile spread across Victor's face. "That's my good boy," he purred, beckoning Rocco closer. "So smart, so ruthless. You make Daddy very proud."

Heat pooled in Rocco's belly at the praise. He sauntered over, a hint of that old bratty swagger in his step. "Yeah? Maybe you should show me just how proud you are, old man."

Victor's hand shot out, gripping Rocco's hip with bruising force. He yanked the younger man into his lap, growling as Rocco ground down against his rapidly hardening cock.

"Careful what you wish for, little one," Victor warned, teeth grazing Rocco's pulse point. "We don't have time for me to wreck you properly right now."

Rocco whined, frustration and need warring in his voice. "Please, Daddy. Need you. Need to feel you before we face them."

Victor's resolve crumbled. With a snarl, he flipped them, pinning Rocco to the plush carpet. Clothes were shed with frantic urgency, both men desperate for the connection, the grounding force of skin on skin.

Their coupling was fast and brutal, Victor pounding into Rocco with ruthless precision. Rocco keened, nails raking down Victor's back as he took everything his Daddy gave him.

"That's it," Victor growled, his hips snapping with punishing force. "Take it like the good little slut you are. Show Daddy how much you need his cock."

Rocco babbled incoherently, lost in the overwhelming sensations. When Victor's hand wrapped around his leaking cock, it only took a few strokes before he was coming with a broken cry.

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