Page 66 of Heartless Mafia Prince

Rocco reached into the cab and threw the man on the ground.

“Please, I didn’t know you were with the Conti crew,” he sobbed.

“Agosto, get here now,” Rocco growled.

He flipped his helmet shield up and leaned over, pointing the AR-15 at his head. “Not just any part of their crew. His daughter.” Rocco’s boot slammed into his pudgy side.

“Oof,” he squealed.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Rocco Andrisani,” he muttered.

“And you tried to kill my woman. That makes you a dead man.”

Agosto rolled to a screeching halt, then jumped out of the truck. “Rocco, I’ll take care of him.”

“No. Throw me the zip ties. He’s coming with us. Take the truck to the warehouse.”

Rocco caught the zip ties midair.

I saw two of everything. Falling against the truck, I held my helmet.

Agosto’s wide eyes fell on me. “Let’s get you into the truck.”

I swatted his hand away. “No, I’ll help Rocco.”

“If something happens to you, Luciano will kill us all.”

“Princess, Agosto is right. Get in the truck. We need to move. The next truck will hit this road soon.”

“Ok.”

Rocco ushered the trucker into the bike trailer.

I laid across the rear passenger seat.

“Let’s get your head out of that helmet.” Agosto slowly tugged it off, then closed the rear passenger door behind me.

***P***

“Ryah, can you hear me? Ryah, don’t fall asleep.”

My eyes fluttered open. How long was I out? Maybe not long. Rocco was driving the Suburban.

“I can hear you.”

“Good. We’re almost at the warehouse.”

The next time I opened my eyes, Rocco's hands rested on his wild black mane. He paced the floor, peeking at me.

One of the doctor’s our fathers used, after a job, examined me.

“Hello, Ryah.” The tall man with sandy brown hair, dressed in a navy suit, smiled down at me.

“Hello, Dr. Goodwin.”

I was lying on the same metal table that held our weapons the night we beat Drew’s ass.

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