Page 114 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ROCCO

I UNLOADED A BADLYbeaten Luciano on Melanie’s front porch earlier today. A smile crossed my lips. That motherfucker wouldn’t walk right for the rest of this year. Fucking asshole. I hated anytime I mentioned the injuries Ryah’s dad inflicted, her entire mood changed.

If my dad behaved that way, I’d be crushed, too.

Luciano had those ass beatings coming from me and Dad.

Would I act like a stone-cold nut if I didn’t want my daughter with a guy like me? I ran a hand over my hair. Shit, probably. I didn’t want to think about Karma coming back for me years later.

The garage door closed behind me after I threw the car in park. Ryah probably ate, but maybe tomorrow she’d eat the pasta I picked up for her. I texted Ryah earlier and told her I’d be home late. She never responded. That was unlike her. Maybe she passed out in front of the TV.

“Ryah,” I yelled, as I placed the bag in the fridge. The light from the TV lit up the family room. I knew she fell asleep. I grinned as I sauntered toward the sofa.

My face dropped. She wasn’t there. I picked up the remote and turned off the TV. I looked around. Ryah left on every light in the house, too.

“What the hell?” I murmured, as I walked around, turning them off. Once up the steps, I peeled off my gray blazer, then I tossed it on the corner chair in our bedroom. The bed was made and there was no sign of Ryah. Where the fuck was she? Her car was in the garage, and the Suburban was in the driveway. I ran from room to room at this point I was losing my shit.

“Ryah, Ryah, where are you?”

I called Ameer.

“Hello?”

“Ameer, have you guys seen Ryah?”

“What?” The panic in his voice made my heart pound against my ribcage.

“We haven’t seen her since we arrived earlier this evening. Maybe she left with a friend.”

“No, she wouldn’t do that. She’s probably in the basement playing arcade games. I’ll call you back.”

“Ok.”

I gripped my phone in my hand as I hurried down the stairs. “Ryah?”

She was nowhere to be found. I was past the freak out stage. I had a locator on her phone. Looking at the screen, it said she was close. It showed she was next to where I was standing. No, that was impossible. She wouldn’t go into the panic room. For what? I opened the door and stepped inside. My jaw dropped, and I rushed toward the shower and yanked open the door. She was face down on the floor. The water slapped her skin.

“Ryah, can you hear me?” I fell beside her, knocking over the bottle of Jack as I pulled her into my arms. “Baby, what the fuck?”

Her brows rose while her eyes were still closed. “What?”

“Ryah, why are you sleeping in the panic room shower.”

She twisted her fingers in my shirt. “The nightmares.”

“Is this your first time taking a shower in here?”

“No, I usually sleep down here for an hour. I have the same nightmare every night. The truck knocks me off my motorcycle.”

I held her tighter. “You aren’t supposed to hide things from me.”

Ryah was tearing me apart inside. Somehow, she managed to pull all the feelings I didn’t know existed to the surface. Only for her.

“I know. My mom keeps texting me about my father, too. That’s why I brought Jack with me.” She patted the ground for the bottle. Her eyes finally popped open.

“Shoot, I knocked the bottle over.”

---