DECEPTION : (A student/teacher romance)

Aloud huff leaves my father. “I don’t know why you’re bothering with school.” He shoves another spoon of granola into his mouth. “You don’t need it.” As he points his spoon toward me, I take a sip of my orange juice, then lift my shoulder, unwilling to respond.

Not today, at least. Today will be a good day.

It’s been weeks since we settled issues at one of the clubs, and I’m unwilling to wait any longer. I need her. My body craves her, and the pressure my father is putting on me is becoming unavoidable. So today is the day.

And I cannot fucking wait.

“School is for wasters.” He chides, and I almost choke on his words. Pretty damn sure most parents wouldn’t agree.

“You like your accounts in order, and I like to keep tabs on what’s happening.” Lies, all lies. “School helps with that.” My brother Tommy does our family accounts, even when he was meant to be absent from the family. Rafael, our oldest brother, threw work his way. Papa mumbles, and I take that as his approval.

I like to cut up our enemies and destroy anyone that gets in my way. I’ve become the perfect Mafia son over the years. My father’s brutal parentage has crafted me well, leaving me unhinged at best.

Although my father has never been abusive toward me and my brothers, the demands he puts on us are violent and catalytic to a child’s mind. We never had a normal family upbringing. None of us ever had a mother figure growing up, and whenever any of us would become close to one of the numerous nannies, he would abruptly cut them from our lives. It’s part of the reason I wonder if that’s why I’m so drawn to Hallie’s soft nature; I’ve been void of it my entire upbringing.

“You have an event coming up with the Harrington girl.” He waves his arm around as if trying to think of the Harrington girl’s name.

“Kimberly?” I offer. “The girl you’re forcing me to marry. Or was it Livvy? I can’t remember.”

He balks at my words, and I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare at him.

His eyes hold mine. “Doesn’t matter whatever her fucking name is.”

I sneer. Of course it doesn’t matter; she’s as much a pawn in this as I am. I also know her name is Olivia.

“Don’t start acting like a child, Rocco. It’s a means to an end, that’s all.”

Anger rushes up my spine, and I sit forward. “The end being what, exactly? We have money, we have alliances, what more could we possibly fucking need?”

“Her father’s a—”

“Jackass. Her father’s a jackass judge.”

Scoffing again, he shakes his head. “Just continue the fucking bloodline, will you? And do as you’ve been asked. Marry her and get her pregnant.”

“And you think he’s going to be happy? I stick my dick in other women while his little princess waits at home for me to get her knocked up?”

“He’ll get used to it.” He shrugs like the heartless piece of shit I know him to be.

“What, like you did?” I spit back, referring to the women who have scorned my father. His steely eyes snap up to mine, and he glares at me with a threat of violence. I’m past caring, and I’m pissed he’s ruining my day.

The tension is interrupted by the horn of a car outside, and my shoulders drop while my father’s attention is pulled over my shoulder toward the front window. “Why is there a little punk collecting you for school?”

I choke on a laugh at his reference to Matt, my best friend. “Because it’s what normal schoolkids do.”

He narrows his eyes on me. “You’re not a normal schoolkid.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” I grumble as I push back on my chair and snag a slice of toast from my plate.

“Rocco, I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but I know we don’t have time for this shit.” He glares as I round his chair and head toward the door, unprepared to listen to another damn word that comes out of his mouth.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” I spit back as I stride through it.

“Jesus,” my father mutters as I slam the door behind me and plaster on a smile I feel deep in my bones. Spending time with Matt makes me feel fucking normal, and knowing I’m about to reveal myself makes me feel sensational.

Matt’s eyes bug out as I make my way toward the car, and I can’t help the chuckle that rumbles in my chest.

As soon as I open the car door and slide into the car seat, his questions start. “What the fuck, man? You’re loaded.” He throws his hand out toward the line of sports cars.

“I am.”

He glances around the expansive grounds. “Like really fucking loaded.” His eyebrows rise, and his jaw practically falls to the floor.

“Yep.” I pop the p, with a wide grin.

As if seeing me for the first time, he slowly trails his eyes over me from head to toe. My combat boots are unlaced, and my signature ripped jeans, white T-shirt, and leather jacket are all in place. Nope, I definitely don’t give off the rich-kid vibe with my appearance. There sure as shit isn’t anything preppy about me.

He shakes his head. “You never said you had money.” His tone is laced in hurt, and I can understand that. Until today, I’ve kept Matt as far away from my home life as possible. Hell, even my father never knew I had a friend from outside of our world, and for good reason too. There’s no way in hell I wanted Matt to get wrapped up in my chaos. My world is dangerous and not one I want to expose him to unless necessary.

“That a problem?” I counter.

His mouth snaps shut, and he shakes his head. “Nnn-no. Of course not, it’s just … you don’t look like the kids at my school. Hell, you don’t even look like a kid.” He waves his hand in my direction.

A loud chuckle erupts from me. He’s not lying. I look nothing like a damn kid, and I’m proud of the fact. My father insisted on making men out of his sons early in our lives, and that included a range of activities that would be frowned upon in everyday life. My body is covered in tattoos, my kill count is ostentatious, my behavior is unpredictable, at best, and the brutal sexual tendencies I attempt to keep hidden are slowly unraveling—because of her.

When I first met Matt, he was being bullied in a coffee shop. Some jerks at his school had surrounded a table he’d set up as a study area. I watched from the doorway as one swiped his book onto the floor while another lifted Matt’s hot chocolate above his head, and I saw red. Before I knew what I was doing, I was striding through the shop at lightning speed to save a kid who was a lot younger and smaller than them from being ridiculed and damaged any further.

The hot chocolate was knocked out of the punk’s hand when I delivered a swift punch to his jaw that sent him falling to the floor with a heavy thud. Then, with my combat boot on his face, I stared off with the other two jerks who stupidly decided to move toward me. In a flash, I withdrew my knife and threw it into one of the guy’s thighs. He went down squealing like a pig while the other guy saw the same fate as his friend beneath my boot. Only he knocked over a tray of drinks on the opposite table as he went down, leaving him soaked, much like they’d intended on doing to my new friend who watched me with wide, innocent eyes.

I spun the chair around, dropped myself in it, and asked my new buddy if he could assist me with my math homework. He nodded frantically, making me chuckle. He had nothing to be nervous about; this little guy needed a friend, and I needed him. We’ve been close ever since.

“I can’t believe you’re moving to my school, man. This is insane!” He grins, showing off his perfectly white teeth no longer housed in braces.

“I know.” I smirk while sinking further into his car seat.

Pulling away from my house, he continues to shake his head. “You have an armed guard at a security post?” He nods toward one of our men as we drive past, and his pale, stunned expression has me chuckling.

“It’s not fucking funny, Roc.” He shoves me playfully. “What the fuck, man?”

With a smirk, I lift my shoulder. “I wanted to remain incognito.”

“Incog-fucking-nito?” His mouth falls open. “Just who the hell are you and your family?”

“The Mafia,” I state as my spine straightens, awaiting his reaction.

He swallows thickly, and I wait on tenterhooks for his response. “Okay. Well, my parents are going to lose their shit. Just so you know.”

My grin spreads across my face. “I’m counting on it.” His eyes narrow. “At least they know I have your back.” I shrug.

He nods. “Right. I mean, we don’t have to mention the Mafia thing to them straight away, right?”

I shrug. “Guess not.” It’s no big deal to me whether he tells them.

“My mom is pretty desperate to meet you, and she makes a mean lasagna. You have to try that before this”—he waves his hand between us—“all goes to shit.”

I balk at his words and slouch back into the seat, then my heart races as I calculate that we’re twelve minutes away from my destiny—her.