Page 20 of The Bratty Heir

"We need to move," Victor said, all business once more. He kept one hand on the small of Rocco's back as they sprinted for the exit, a possessive touch that sent sparks skittering along Rocco's nerve endings.

They burst out into the cool night air, gasping and stumbling. Victor's car was waiting in the alley, engine already purring. He shoved Rocco into the passenger seat before peeling away from the curb, tires squealing in protest.

As they sped through the darkened streets, Rocco's mind whirled. The adrenaline was fading, leaving him jittery and off-balance. He snuck glances at Victor's profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his storm-gray eyes.

"That was some quick thinking back there," Victor said, breaking the tense silence. "With the pipe. Not bad for a pampered prince."

Rocco preened at the praise, warmth blooming in his chest. "Maybe you're not the only one with hidden talents."

Victor's laugh was low and rich, sending heat pooling in Rocco's belly. "Is that so? And what other talents are you hiding, little one?"

The endearment slipped out, loaded with meaning. Rocco's breath caught, his body responding to the promise in Victor's voice. He licked his lips, hyper-aware of Victor tracking the movement.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Rocco purred, channeling every ounce of bravado he possessed. "But good boys don't kiss and tell, isn't that right... Daddy?"

The car swerved sharply as Victor's hands tightened on the wheel. He shot Rocco a dark look, desire warring with annoyance. "Careful, brat. You're playing a dangerous game."

Rocco's smirk was pure sin as he stretched languidly, making sure his shirt rode up to reveal a tempting strip of skin. "Maybe I like danger. Maybe that's why I can't seem to stay away from you."

Victor growled, the sound sending shivers down Rocco's spine. "Keep pushing and you'll find out just how dangerous I can be."

The threat should have terrified him. Instead, Rocco felt a heady rush of power. For once, he was the one throwing Victor off-balance, making the older man lose that ironclad control.

But the moment was shattered as Victor's phone buzzed. He answered with a terse greeting, his expression darkening as he listened to the caller.

"Understood. We'll be there in ten." Victor hung up, his jaw clenched tight. "Change of plans. Your father's calling an emergency meeting."

Reality came crashing back, the weight of responsibility settling heavy on Rocco's shoulders. "How bad is it?"

Victor's silence was answer enough. They spent the rest of the drive in tense quiet, the playful banter of moments ago a distant memory.

The Rossetti penthouse was a hive of activity when they arrived. Rocco's stomach churned as he took in the grim faces of his father's top lieutenants. This was more than just a failed shipment. This was war.

Giovanni Rossetti sat at the head of the long dining table, his gaunt face a mask of cold fury. Lucia hovered at his side, her usually immaculate appearance slightly disheveled.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Giovanni snapped as Rocco and Victor entered. "I trust you have a good explanation for why my warehouse is currently a smoking ruin?"

Rocco opened his mouth to defend himself, but Victor stepped forward. "It was an ambush, sir. Bianchi's crew hit us with everything they had. If it weren't for Rocco's quick thinking, we might not have made it out alive."

Giovanni's eyes narrowed, skepticism etched in the deep lines of his face. "Is that so?" He turned his piercing gaze to Rocco. "And what exactly did my son do that was so impressive?"

Rocco straightened his spine, channeling every ounce of the confidence he didn't quite feel. "I neutralized a threat to Victor's life and ensured the safety of our team. The ledgers were lost, but our people made it out."

A tense silence fell over the room. Rocco could feel the weight of every stare, judging and assessing. His father's approval had always been a fickle thing, as elusive as smoke.

To Rocco's surprise, it was his mother who broke the standoff. "The ledgers can be replaced," Lucia said, her voice steady. "Our people cannot. Rocco made the right call."

Giovanni grunted, neither agreement nor dissent. "Be that as it may, we're now in a precarious position. Bianchi's bold enough to attack us openly. We need to retaliate, and quickly."

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, each lieutenant arguing for their preferred course of action. Rocco's head spun as he tried to keep up with the rapid-fire strategizing.

Through it all, he was acutely aware of Victor's solid presence at his back. The older man's hand rested on Rocco's shoulder, a steadying weight that grounded him amidst the chaos.

As the debate raged on, a kernel of an idea began to form in Rocco's mind. It was risky, potentially suicidal. But if it worked...

"I have a suggestion," Rocco said, his voice cutting through the din. All eyes turned to him, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "We hit Bianchi where it hurts most. His pride."

Victor's grip on his shoulder tightened, a silent warning. But Rocco pressed on, the plan crystallizing as he spoke.

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