Page 54 of Sin & Secrets

“You just told me all your trade secrets.” My palms begin to sweat. “I could go to the police. I could tell them everything.”

Rocco, however, doesn’t seem concerned. “Cas, you’ve been here a week already. If you were going to do such a thing, I’m fairly certain you would have done so by now.”

“You really trust me that much?”

He considers me a moment. “I don’t know. But my gut is telling me I can enjoy a drink with you without the fear of you revealing my darkest deeds to the authorities.”

With that, he pushes a second glass of whiskey into my hand and sits down beside me.

For a moment, we sit in companionable silence as we drink. It feels so surreal, and yet bizarrely like the most normal thing in the world.

“What is your father like?” he asks suddenly.

I cringe at the question, but there’s no way he could know how his words would affect me. So, instead, I just shrug. “I didn’t know him well.”

He immediately clocks my shift in tense. “When did he pass?”

“A few weeks ago, actually.” I try to speak as casually as I can.

But Rocco becomes very serious. “I’ve been insensitive. I’m so sorry for your loss. Has the funeral passed already? I can organize for you to leave if you need to.”

“It’s fine, really.” I offer him a small smile at his kindness. “I didn’t know him. It was more of a shock than anything else.”

“I can imagine.”

I have to look away from the pity in his eyes. “I lived with my mother for almost two decades. She’s the only parent I’ve ever needed and the only one I really recognize. Sure, it might have been nice to reconnect with him, but…”

“But it’s hard to grieve someone you don’t know,” Rocco finishes for me.

We sit in silence for a moment as the truth of his words wash over me.

“Besides, I don’t think his friends even knew to invite us to the funeral.” I sigh. “So, to answer your original question, disappointing. I think.”

Rocco smirks at that. “Perhaps we do have something in common, then.”

I suddenly recall the look on his face when I entered the lounge. How miserable he’d seemed drinking alone in here.

I hesitate before daring my next question. “Was…was your father also…a mafia don?”

“Oh yes. I only took the position from him a year ago.”

I blink at that. Ayear?From his money and demeanor, I had assumed he’d been doing this his whole life.

“Is he…still alive?” The question escapes me before I have a chance to consider it fully.

Thankfully, Rocco seems to find the humor in it. “Yes. He decided to take an early retirement.”

“Is that normal?”

“No.”

“What’s he like?”

A thousand answers seem to stir behind those gray eyes. “He’s taken to gardening. He’s excited at the prospect of grandchildren. He’s still determined to prove he knows better than me.”

“And that’s disappointing?”

He smirks. “Because it’s so very unfairly normal of him.”

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