Page 60 of Straightened Out

Opening my eyes, I shake my head. Apparently, my new house was fully furnished, and I had a king size bed waiting for me. Another glorious perk of inheriting a kingdom I don’t have the first clue how to run.

“Then I have better idea. Why don’t we skip the three-course dinner at the fancy restaurant and go back to your place? I’ll make us empanadas and then you and I can take that bath.”

Relief washes over me and for the first time in a week, I feel human. I feel fucking reborn. I cover her hand with my own and touch my forehead to hers.

“Whatever you want as long as I’m with you,” I rasp.

Those words are the truest words I’ve spoken. Bianci and the bikers can wait another day. Tonight, the only thing that matters to me is Violet.

~*~

On the way back to my new house, I asked Bruno to stop off at a supermarket. He offered to go in and grab whatever we needed, but Violet insisted she and I do the shopping. I didn’t remember the last time I stepped foot inside of a supermarket. Back in Miami the cleaning lady filled my fridge and most of the shit always went bad because I dined out almost every night. But it was nice, strolling the aisles, filling the cart. It felt normal and at one point, I asked Violet if she was planning on cooking for me all week. I mean, she did put a loin of pork in the cart and I sure as fuck didn’t know what to do with it.

“That depends on whether or not you plan on disappearing on me after tonight,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. I didn’t have a response for that and she and I needed to have a conversation—I owed her that much. Stringing her along and promising to take her out when I wasn’t sure where or what I was going to be doing didn’t seem fair.

A man doesn’t just become a boss overnight and though we were giving it our best shot, there was so much to do. So many acts to perform. I was being pulled in a million different directions, trying to please everyone and still keep my head above water.

“What flavor ice cream should we get for dessert?” I looked at her and then toward the selection in front of her. It was crazy to me that all she had to do was ask me a simple question like what flavor ice cream I preferred and the anxiety that threatened to suffocate me completely vanished.

Reaching around her, I pulled a carton of rocky road from the freezer and pressed it against her stomach. My breath touched her ear as I whispered, “This and I plan on licking between your legs.”

She was standing in front of a freezer and her cheeks were bright red—I loved it and I couldn’t wait to make her blush more when I had her naked. Fuck the king size bed, we were going to fucking christen every square inch of this place— all six thousand—even if it took us all night.

After dropping three hundred dollars in the supermarket we made our way to Circle Drive and Violet’s eyes nearly fell out of her head when Bruno pulled around the circular driveway of my new house. It was pretentious and over the top, but you know Uncle Vic—go big or go home. The house was equipped with an inground pool, a movie theater, a wine cellar, and seven bedrooms. The place even had an elevator and butler’s quarters, which was ideal for when Johnny and Richie, my new bodyguards, needed a place to crash.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed as she opened the door of the Maserati and stepped onto the pavers. Leaving Bruno to handle the bags, I climbed out of the car and took Violet’s hand, leading her to the front door. Once I managed to disarm the security system and let us in, she released my hand and entered the foyer. I followed her from room to room, wondering what was running through her head as she took it all in.

When we entered the kitchen, she finally turned to me and said, “Rocco, this place is a palace.”

My eyes swept around the room. It was an open concept floor plan and the kitchen bled into both the sitting room and the formal dining room—neither of which were furnished. I suppose there was some truth to Violet’s comparison, palaces were often cold and impractical, and this place definitely met the mark on both of those things.

“What are you going to do with this place? You have three living rooms and there has to be at least six bedrooms upstairs.”

“Seven,” I corrected, shoving my hands inside my pockets.

I shook my head thinking how ridiculous that sounded. Uncle Vic’s house wasn’t even as big as this one and they had two daughters and grandchildren to fill it with.

“Seven,” she repeats. “You’re one person. Do you plan on swapping bedrooms every night of the week?”

“It’s ridiculous, I know,” I said, bracing my hands on the edge of the granite countertop.

“If it’s so ridiculous then why buy a house like this?”

Before I could answer her, Johnny and Richie entered the kitchen, both looking like they wanted to murder me. Violet nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized they had let themselves in and were standing behind her, but neither of them paid her any mind whatsoever.

“Boss, can we have a word?” Johnny grinded out.

I looked from them to Violet and shook my head.

“Not now,” I clipped.

I had Bruno ditch them as soon as my plane landed—I thought the poor driver was going to shit his pants, but he maneuvered that hundred thousand dollar piece of machinery like Mario Andretti and lost Johnny and Richie before we ever made it out of Newark Airport.

“Sir,” Richie started, but I quickly shut him down with a glare.

I knew they were just doing their jobs, but I was sick of having my every move watched. All week I was theirs, tonight I was Violet’s—end of story.

“You both are dismissed for the night.”

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