Page 118 of Heartless Mafia Prince

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ROCCO

SLOUCHED IN ONE OFthe two designer brown leather chairs in front of dad’s desk, I stared at my phone screen.

Dad sat opposite of me. The oversized built-in bookcase that showcased his rifles was his backdrop. There was a black bearskin rug to my right. I didn’t want to know if he and mom did the deed on it many times. I shook my head, trying to rid that visual out of my brain.

“Who are you talking to? Bosco?” He snickered.

“Dad, you’re funny when you want to be. No, it’s not him. It’s Ryah.”

“Speaking of which. You’ve worked your mother and Ryah overtime since your fight with Bosco.”

I wasn’t trying to stress the women in my life. Ryah was actually my stress reliever. Every day after school, I watched her ride me to ecstasy. The satisfying sex with my woman was the most invigorating part of this whole ordeal with my asshole friend.

Mom insisted I see an orthopedic specialist for the back pain. She wanted to ensure there wasn’t any major damage to my back.

“Mom, has obsessed over my back. She ices it before I turn in every night. The workouts with the physical therapist have helped.”

He laughed. “To your mom, you’re still her little boy. She hates to see you all banged up.”

Even though dad was training me to take his place, he still also viewed me as his little bambino. He hugged me and kissed my forehead every night before I retired to my room.

He needed to stop. I was seventeen, for Fuck’ sake. A part of me didn’t mind, though. I knew my parents loved me.

“Mom remembers the life we live, right? This could be just the tip of the iceberg.”

His brown eyes darkened as he leaned forward, waving his finger at me. “You’re trained by special black operatives for a reason. So you can defend yourself.” His deep voice bounced off the mahogany walls.

The training Genn and a couple of his retired military buddies sent me through was brutal. This would be our second summer together.

“Did you tell Ryah you have a three-day training stint to complete during our vacation?” He reclined in his chair and rubbed his dark beard.

“Not yet. But I will. She’ll participate in the training.”

He raised a brow. “During her birthday vacation?”

“It’s only for three days during an eight-day trip.”

He threw his hands up. “If you say so.”

“How have the students treated you at school since you’ve been back?”

After the fight with Bosco, I didn’t attend school for a week. Mom said it was best I waited until my eye reopened. My skin was still red and blue when I returned to school.

“There were a few more whispers and stares than usual. They still called me a gangster.”

His eye twitched when I said that. Dad didn’t want me to be known as a gangster. He’d rather they left that name for him. He preferred his son to be called a scholar. Later, a businessman. Not a thug or gangster.

“Are you guys still friends?” Dad changed the subject.

Shooting pain struck my back. I winced as I sat up straight. “Yeah, I guess. Hard to be best friends with a guy who makes a play for your woman. Right now, we’re cordial. Maybe one day that will change.”

There was a heavy knock on the open door.

Dad stood. “Hey, Luciano.”

“Hey, Urbano.” He stepped toward dad. Luciano embraced him and kissed each of his cheeks. The Italian greeting was still carried out in our world between friends.

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