That was the moment something changed.
Not loud, not dramatic, but real.
Because this wasn’t about business anymore, it wasn’t about control or territory, it was about a line that had been crossed without his knowledge.
Emma reached into her small pocket and pulled out a few crumpled bills, placing them gently beside her mother.
“I can get more tomorrow,” she said, trying to sound strong, but her voice carried the weight of someone who had already done too much.
Rocco watched that small gesture, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something he couldn’t easily name.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t guilt.
It was something deeper, something uncomfortable.
Responsibility.
