“Sir?” she asked in a low voice.
Rocco looked at her.
-Yeah?
Will my mother be alright?
The question hung in the air longer than it should have.
Because the honest answer depended on what Rocco decided to do next.
He could still be the man everyone feared.
Or it could become something the world had never seen before.
A man powerful enough to change the rules he once imposed.
Rocco finally stood up.
He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.
When the voice on the other end of the line answered, its tone was calm.
“Bring a doctor,” he said. “And food. Enough for a week.”
There was a pause.
—Boss… is this business?
Rocco looked at Emma, who was carefully covering her mother with the blanket.
—No —he answered in a low voice—.
This is something else.
