the night as Roco walked up to them. He still had his leather jacket on but seemed to have changed into jeans and his button up shirt that was more unbuttoned t

with security and make sure that everything is as it should be then meet me i

grabbed the papers, before running back across the hallway and into his brothers. "Here you go," he s

nsulated well enough that only a little of the bass from the music in the club was heard. Not being able to hear while making business deals was not a good thing. He had offered the office

his brother without looking up from the papers in front of him. He sc

tared into his brother's blue eyes that he had gotten from their mother and waited for him to continue. "There has been someone selling drugs in here. We can't seem t

ar through Roco's body. Standing up, he walked around his desk. "I can assume that bec

I was trying to prove myself. I know that you all take me as the little brother that screws around and makes jokes.

his club because he knew that Roco didn't have the slightest interest in anything the Mafia had to offer. He likes to have

ng to get to the bottom of this," he walked back to his desk and took a seat to finish the pile of paperwork. Roco sat in the chair in front

was picky when it came to his tattoo's. His brothers liked to tease him about the amount of time it took for him to decide on one but he didn't mind. They were covered more than him, but that was th

him breaking him from his thoughts. He still didn't look at him

his head. "It's for Madre," he told him. "You know, since she is always saying we are l

he thing. Madre is going to hit you,"

hrough," he put his head in his

starts to like our tattoos... Sometimes," he advised. Rocco groaned, but said nothing and