Rocky and Delilah

Prologue

Rocky

I have always been told I am a very quiet man.

I have been all of my life, I took after my father in that way. We both felt as though too many people talked way too much, especially people who had the least amount to say. I found small talk cheap, and oftentimes flat out refused to partake in it. Why would I speak with someone about the weather, or ask about how they were doing? Quite frankly, I didn't give a fuck what the weather was, or how anyone was doing.

I didn't care to let it show either. I didn't have to.

But even though I was reserved, calm and had a distaste for speaking, I was still the Don. And unfortunately, that meant having to talk when necessary, even at galas that I didn't feel the need to attend, much less host.

The annual gala for the families was held at the Saint James estate, as per usual, so it was an understatement to say that I was in a bad mood. The only comfort was that I was standing beside Duke, my right hand man, and someone I could call a friend. Duke usually filled me in on some bullshit I didn't care about, and tonight was no different.

"Everyone has been talking about the girl Mathew Cohen brought tonight. She's a fuckin' babe. Total ten. Best ass I've seen in a while." Duke tried to fill me in discreetly, but Lenard Hawthorn loudly voiced his agreement, grasping the attention of the group of men around us.

"I'll give you that," Lenard decided with a grin, "But her tits are a six, maybe seven out of ten. They sit nice, but they're a little too small for my taste. I'd still hit it though." He decided, while making an obscene thrusting gesture with his hips that made everyone around chuckle. Even though I had no idea what this girl looked like, I knew the odds of someone letting Lenard Hawthorn within ten feet of them, nevertheless having sex with him, was close to zero. 

So as I listened to the group, I internally rolled my eyes. Duke was gayer than Andy from the office, and Lenard was five foot four and two hundred and fifty pounds. Safe to say neither man had any room to talk.

But, I did have to admit that the more I heard people talk about Mathew Cohen's date, the more curious I had become. I wanted to see the woman who had the men around me so fascinated. I silently searched the crowd as I polished off my drink. After only a minute of looking, I knew I spotted her. Duke nudged me with an elbow, and nodded toward the girl with a smug grin, "That's her boss." He confirmed, "Fine little thing, yeah?" He asked, and I didn't give any hint to an answer.

I briefly took in the young, blonde girl.

She was a tiny thing. Sitting all by herself at a table, dressed in a light pink dress that didn't quite touch the floor. Her gentle features were very feminine, with a soft upturned button nose and light blue eyes. She looked almost ethereal sitting there, and I didn't want to look away.

Especially when an older man approached her. He had his hand reached out with a devious grin, and my fist unwillingly clenched around my glass. 

That fucking prick is old enough to be her granddad.

I didn't like this, I decided. How was she all alone in here? It didn't make any sense. Didn't she come with male family to make sure she's safe and well taken care of?

The girl's cheeks were tinged a light pink as she shook her head at the old man, obviously declining his advances. I let out a relieved breath. Good girl.

But I didn't realize I'd been staring until she turned her head in my direction, meeting my careful gaze. Her beautiful face furrowed as she tilted her head in a silent question, but I only looked away, tuning back into the conversation around me. I tried to concentrate on Duke's voice, "It was almost a quarter of a million that Charles wanted to borrow, but Don basically hold him to go fuck himself." Duke shook his head, obviously replaying the memory of Derrick Charles lying through his overly whitened teeth to get an advance on some cash. Lenard spoke next, "Of course he did. Charles is an idiot. Our Don knew better than to let him borrow that much money."

And as much as I hated small talk, I hated men like Lenard Hawthorn even more. What kind of a man would kiss an asshole raw if he thought it would get them further up in the ranks? Not a man worthy of respect in my opinion.

And the only thing Lenard was closer to, was on my last Goddamn nerve.

The men around were unfazed by my silence as the conversation continued on, but my attention stayed on the girl, watching her like my life depended on it. After a few minutes of her looking around the room, she excused herself. I watched with a careful gaze as she made her way through the door that led outside to my balcony. After a moment, and with no reasonable explanation as to why, I excused myself as well, "I'm going to go smoke." I spoke discreetly to Duke.

Duke nodded and Lenard moved closer, "Oh, I'll go with you boss." He tried, but I shut him down, "No." I told him, and the annoying man flashed a disappointed smile, "Next time, then."

I didn't give a response as I separated from the group, exiting from the same door she had just used. The cold night air brushed my face as I left the ballroom, and my eyes immediately latched onto Mathew Cohen's date. She was standing faced away from me, and had not yet acknowledged that someone else had walked out behind her. I took a moment to study her from behind.

She was not the conventional type I was used to, that was for sure. I had always attracted powerful, sturdy women. Someone older. Taller, more filled out. Someone who could handle me, and didn't need me to be gentle.

 It was all I knew, powerful women.

So I couldn't figure out I was so enthralled by this waif-like girl. She looked breakable, with her sweet, girlish stature and her long, light hair that reached the small of her back. I watched in eerie silence as she tilted her head back to gaze at the sky, and when I finally walked up beside her, I felt her look over at me.

But it was once I heard her soft voice, that I knew, I was completely and utterly fucked.