14. Wounded Souls

CHAPTER 14

WOUNDED SOULS

The silence in Giovanni's study stretched like a rubber band pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. Rocco's heart thundered in his chest as he met his father's cold, assessing gaze.

"Well?" Giovanni prompted, his voice sharp as a blade. "I'm waiting for an answer."

Rocco opened his mouth, ready to lay it all bare. But before he could speak, Victor stumbled, a pained groan escaping his lips.

"Victor?" Rocco's attention snapped to the older man, worry eclipsing everything else. "What's wrong?"

Victor's face had gone ashen, a sheen of sweat beading on his brow. "It's nothing," he grunted, but his hand pressed against his side told a different story.

Rocco's eyes widened as he saw the dark stain spreading across Victor's shirt. "You're bleeding! Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't... want to worry you," Victor managed through gritted teeth. His legs gave out, and Rocco barely caught him before he hit the floor.

"Dad, call an ambulance!" Rocco shouted, lowering Victor gently to the ground. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Stay with me, Victor. Don't you dare die on me, you stubborn bastard."

Giovanni barked orders into his phone, his voice a distant buzz in Rocco's ears. All he could focus on was Victor's ragged breathing, the weak flutter of his pulse beneath Rocco's fingers.

"'M fine," Victor slurred, his eyes struggling to focus on Rocco's face. "Just a scratch."

Rocco let out a choked laugh, tears stinging his eyes. "Bullshit. You're not allowed to check out on me, old man. We still have unfinished business."

Victor's lips quirked in a weak smile. "Bossy little brat," he murmured, his hand coming up to cup Rocco's cheek. "Love that about you."

Rocco's breath caught, his heart clenching painfully. But before he could respond, paramedics burst into the room, pushing him aside to tend to Victor.

The next few hours passed in a blur of sirens and sterile hospital corridors. Rocco paced the waiting room like a caged tiger, ignoring his father's attempts to send him home. He wouldn't leave, not until he knew Victor was okay.

Finally, a tired-looking doctor emerged. "Mr. Rossetti? Your... friend is out of surgery. The bullet missed any major organs, but he lost a lot of blood. The next 24 hours will be critical."

Rocco sagged with relief, his legs nearly giving out. "Can I see him?"

The doctor hesitated, glancing at Giovanni. But Rocco didn't wait for permission. He shouldered past them both, following the signs to the recovery wing.

Victor looked small in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking from his body. The steady beep of the heart monitor was both comforting and terrifying—a reminder that Victor was alive, but so fragile.

Rocco sank into the chair beside the bed, taking Victor's hand in his. "You scared the shit out of me," he whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. "Don't ever do that again."

To his surprise, Victor's fingers twitched in his grasp. Stormy eyes blinked open, hazy with pain and medication.

"Rocco?" Victor's voice was a rasp, barely audible. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," Rocco said, a watery laugh escaping him. "Where else would I be?"

Victor's brow furrowed, confusion clouding his gaze. "Your father... he knows?"

Rocco's stomach dropped as reality came crashing back. In the panic over Victor's injury, he'd almost forgotten the confrontation in Giovanni's study.

"I don't know," he admitted. "We didn't exactly finish that conversation. But... I don't care. Let him know. I'm not hiding anymore, Victor. Not from him, not from anyone."

Something softened in Victor's eyes, a vulnerability Rocco had rarely seen. "Rocco," he breathed, squeezing Rocco's hand weakly. "You don't have to?—"

"Yes, I do," Rocco interrupted fiercely. "I almost lost you tonight. I'm not wasting any more time pretending this isn't exactly what I want. What I need."

Victor's breath hitched, a flash of heat cutting through the haze of pain. "And what is it you need, baby boy?"

Rocco's cheeks flushed at the endearment, arousal simmering low in his belly despite the circumstances. "You," he said simply. "Just you. All of you."

Victor's eyes darkened, his grip on Rocco's hand tightening. "Come here," he growled, tugging Rocco closer.

Rocco went willingly, careful not to jostle Victor's injuries as he perched on the edge of the bed. Victor's free hand came up to tangle in Rocco's hair, pulling him down into a searing kiss.

It was messy and desperate, tasting of antiseptic and fear. But beneath it all was a current of need so strong it made Rocco's head spin. He moaned into Victor's mouth, pouring every ounce of pent-up emotion into the connection.

When they finally broke apart, both panting, Victor's eyes were clearer than they'd been all night. "You're going to be the death of me, little one," he murmured, thumb brushing over Rocco's swollen lips.

Rocco nipped at the digit playfully. "Not if I can help it, old man. You're stuck with me now."

Victor's laugh turned into a pained groan, his face contorting. Rocco pulled back immediately, guilt twisting in his gut.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have?—"

"Don't," Victor cut him off, his voice rough but firm. "Don't apologize for this. For us. I meant what I said before, Rocco. You're it for me. No matter what comes next."

Rocco's heart soared at the declaration, even as anxiety gnawed at him. "But my father... the family..."

Victor's eyes hardened, a hint of the dangerous man he truly was shining through. "Let me worry about that. No one's going to keep you from me. Not even the great Giovanni Rossetti."

The possessive growl in Victor's voice sent shivers down Rocco's spine. He wanted nothing more than to climb into that hospital bed and show Victor exactly how much he appreciated that sentiment.

Throwing caution to the wind, Rocco leaned in, capturing Victor's lips in a heated kiss. Victor responded immediately, his hand fisting in Rocco's hair to pull him closer.

"Careful, baby boy," Victor growled against Rocco's mouth. "Don't start something you can't finish."

Rocco pulled back just enough to meet Victor's smoldering gaze. "Who says I can't finish it?" he purred, trailing his hand down Victor's chest.

Victor's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "Rocco," he warned, but there was no real heat behind it.

Emboldened, Rocco let his hand drift lower, ghosting over the substantial bulge in Victor's hospital gown. "Let me take care of you, Daddy," he murmured, voice dripping with need. "Please?"

A low growl rumbled in Victor's chest. "You're playing with fire, little one."

"Maybe I want to get burned," Rocco shot back, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Before Victor could respond, Rocco slipped his hand beneath the thin fabric of the gown. He wrapped his fingers around Victor's rapidly hardening cock, relishing the older man's sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck," Victor hissed, his hips bucking into Rocco's touch. "We shouldn't... someone could walk in..."

But his protests died on his lips as Rocco began to stroke him in earnest. The younger man's touch was sure and confident, twisting on the upstroke in a way that made Victor see stars.

"Let them," Rocco breathed, leaning in to nip at Victor's earlobe. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

Victor's control snapped. With a snarl, he yanked Rocco onto the bed, mindful of his injuries but unwilling to be gentle. Rocco went willingly, straddling Victor's thighs as their mouths crashed together in a bruising kiss.

"Greedy little brat," Victor growled, his hands gripping Rocco's ass possessively. "Always pushing, always testing me."

Rocco ground down, creating delicious friction between them. "You love it," he gasped, head falling back as Victor attacked his throat with teeth and tongue.

"God help me, I do," Victor admitted, leaving a trail of biting kisses along Rocco's collarbone. "Love everything about you, baby. Even when you drive me fucking crazy."

The confession, raw and unguarded, made Rocco's heart soar. He captured Victor's face between his hands, pouring every ounce of emotion into a searing kiss.

When they broke apart, both panting, Rocco's eyes shone with unshed tears. "I love you too," he whispered, the words feeling monumental and fragile all at once. "So much it scares me sometimes."

Victor's expression softened, a tenderness in his gaze that made Rocco's breath catch. "Oh, baby," he murmured, thumb brushing over Rocco's cheekbone. "You don't ever have to be scared with me. I've got you. Always."

The moment hung between them, charged with promise and possibility. But before either could speak again, a sharp knock at the door shattered the intimate bubble.

They sprang apart, Rocco nearly tumbling off the bed in his haste to look presentable. Victor cursed under his breath, struggling to adjust the hospital gown to hide his obvious arousal.

The door swung open to reveal a nurse, her eyebrows rising as she took in the scene before her. "Everything alright in here?" she asked, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Rocco felt his face flame, but Victor just chuckled. "Never better," he said smoothly. "Just discussing some... family business."

The nurse's smile widened. "I'm sure," she said dryly. "Well, I hate to interrupt, but it's time for your pain medication, Mr. Kovac."

As she bustled about, checking Victor's vitals and administering the drugs, Rocco couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The heat of moments ago had faded, replaced by the stark reality of their situation.

Victor was still injured, still vulnerable. And the looming confrontation with Giovanni hung over them like a storm cloud, ready to break at any moment.

When the nurse finally left, Rocco sank back into the chair beside Victor's bed. The older man reached out, taking Rocco's hand in his.

"We'll figure this out," Victor said, voice rough with emotion and the effects of the medication. "Whatever your father throws at us, whatever comes next... we'll face it together."

Rocco nodded, squeezing Victor's hand. "Together," he echoed, a small smile playing at his lips. "I like the sound of that."

As Victor's eyes began to droop, the pain meds kicking in, Rocco settled in for another long night of vigil. His mind raced with possibilities and fears, but beneath it all was a current of hope.

Whatever came next, they had each other. And for now, that was enough.