Defiant Desire

Rocco's POV

I sat in my study, a half-empty glass of scotch in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl as if the motion could drown out her voice in my head. But it didn’t. Her words kept echoing, haunting me.

I've started to care about you.

Was it true? Or was it just another game? Another well-rehearsed line from a Marchetti, born and bred to deceive, to manipulate, to twist truth into a