Page 63 of The Billionaire's Destiny

I climbed to my feet and rushed forward, touching Rocco’s back, then felt hands close on my waist, tugging me back.What the hell?Glaring over my shoulder, my eyes landed on Xander, who’d become a stone statue, unmoving.

The guy pushed Rocco’s chest, but he didn’t move. Wyatt stepped in front of me, blocking my view.

“Let me go! Now!” I shouted, my voice filled with desperation, but neither one of them budged.I strained my neck over Wyatt’s shoulder in time to see Zane grabbing the man by the arms. I couldn’t hear him over the music, but Rocco’s mouth was moving with his finger, pointing at the man who was yanking and squirming in Zane’s tight grasp.

The lights came on, and two security guys rushed up and took over holding the guy from Zane. The people around us started to stare.

“That’s Rocco Marini.” The mutters rose around us like someone had turned up the volume.

Xander let me go, and I could now see Rocco moving past the crowd toward me, and my pulse jumped in my throat. He reached out, and I clasped his hand. We moved toward the exitwith Xander and Wyatt following behind us. None of us spoke as Rick joined us with a few bouncers as the crowd closed in.

“Move back!” Rick shouted.

We made it off the dance floor and around the bar to an emergency exit, where we pushed the door and rushed outside.

“Adelina.” Rocco’s voice caught my attention as he held out a blazer for me to put on.

“Are you hurt?”

I shook my head no. “Are you?”

He didn’t answer, but scowled past me at the crowd pouring out of the club heading right toward us on the sidewalk. Some held phones, stopping close to record, as the security guard next to us shouted, “Vai! Vai”, telling them to leave. I stared over Rocco searching for cuts or bruises, but he didn’t appear to have anything out of place after the scuffle. There were sirens in the distance, but nothing heading our way. Maybe the fight at the club’s over?

“Guarda costa ha fatto!”Look what he did!

A male’s voice shrieked above the din of the crowd and traffic, drawing us all toward the source. It was the man Rocco fought. He was holding up his ripped shirt.

I grimaced. “Ripped? I didn’t see his shirt rip.”

Rocco placed his hand around my waist. “It wasn’t.”

The man’s head turned and he pointed over at us, shouting something to one of the security guards. Part of the crowd near us broke away to record him.

“Did we end up in a reality show audition?” Xander said and huffed.

Wyatt laughed.

“Xander, Wyatt. Rick’s taking you back. Thank you, and we’ll talk later.” Rocco inclined his head toward them, his grip on my waist tightening with subtle insistence. His tone was respectful, though the expectation was clear that they were to go without a formal goodbye. A Mercedes swerved over and stopped, and the security stepped away from us and opened the door.

Xander touched my back as he passed, with Wyatt giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. They got in and were off down the road with a fluid ease, leaving Rocco and me to step up behind another car. Zane rolled the window down to let us know it was him.

Rocco let me go and shook the security guard’s hand. “Grazie. Parlerò con Mark e ti manderò qualcosa al più presto.”Thank you. I’ll speak with Mark and send you something.

“No, no, per favore. È un piacere.”No, no, please. It’s my pleasure.

I kept my head tilted down and climbed inside the car with Rocco following me in. Outside, blue and red police lights strobed against the windows, flickering through the interior like warning signals I could feel in my pulse. The shriek of a siren sliced through the night, echoing the frantic beat in my chest. As a police car pulled up behind us, the crowd finally moved back,their shouts and laughter muffled by the closed doors. One of the officers raised his hand to stop traffic, the stark motion sharp and unyielding, granting Zane a window of opportunity to pull out, and we sped off.

The wail of an ambulance caught my attention from the window. My neck strained to see it slow down, and my stomach dropped.Could it be for the man at the club?

The quiet pressed in on the ride, and I stared out the window, watching city lights stream by, and I knew our talk about what happened wasn’t over. When we finally turned toward the hotel, relief swept through me, only to fade as Rocco still didn’t speak to me when we went inside and stood in the elevator alone.

“Rocco?” I glimpsed him, but he didn’t answer or even look at me.

“You’re not talking to me now?” I said, raising my voice. “It’s not my fault—”

“How’s it not?” he spoke over me.

I grimaced. “I was just dancing.” My hand moved to my necklace, fingers twisting the chain.