Chapter 22 Rafael
Staring at the phone in my hand, my hip resting against the granite countertop in Cesare’s huge kitchen, I finally looked over all the messages I'd ignored for the last few days.
My stomach rolled in discomfort already seeing the notification number.
Twenty-five messages. I didn't even know that many people, let alone should have so many messages.
A quick glance only made the queasy feeling increase. Most of the messages were from Kelly and two of them were from my sperm donor. Choosing the lesser of two evils, I checked over the message. Kelly meant Benito, and I had nothing for him. Every time I gave him information, my stomach burned.
Father: We miss you at home.
Father: It has been a while, when will you be coming around?
A while? He acted as if I were gone for a month or two. I was kicked out at seventeen and stopped coming around three years ago when I finally got to New York. My stomach twisted. I should have opened Kelly's messages first. It would be less stressful.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek to the point of pain. The coppery tang of blood coating my tongue did nothing to ease the anxiety running havoc. I pushed off the counter and checked down the hall. Cesare's office door was still closed which meant he was working.
I took the chance for what it was and hit my father’s contact number.
"Mijo, it's been so long."
Son. Bile lapped at the back of my throat. He only called me that when he wanted something.
"How much?"
The silence that greeted me was quickly destroyed by a scoff and a few curse words in Spanish. I rolled my eyes, knowing in the end, his pride was for show.
"I'm busy,” I cut in. “How much do you need?"
"Do you think I only call you because of money? That a father can't want to connect with his only son even if you are a maricón?”
Yeah, but you take this faggot's money. I bit back my retort and sighed into the phone. It was an argument I wasn't willing to deal with.
"Your daughter didn't have anything for you?"
He grunted. "Your sister has decided to abandon her family. She is as ungrateful as ever."
Sometimes I felt like my half sister was right in the way she treated them. Being a bitch had its perks. They called and begged her a lot less.
"But you, although you'd make your late mother weep in shame, you don't forget where you come from."
The mention of my mom dragged out the same reaction every single time.
Anger and shame. Maybe she would have hated how I am or maybe she would have accepted me.
I was never going to know because she was dead.
Raped and murdered on her way to pick me up.
She wouldn't have had to pass through that park that day if I hadn't gotten into a fight at school and they demanded to speak with her.
She would have been at work or home, waiting for me to get back.
I shoved the horrid memories away and slammed the door shut. "How much?" The question came out more clipped than I intended.
"Whatever you can spare. Work has been slow, and not to mention Miranda hurt herself last week." He broke off in Spanish like he always did, but I’d refused to learn then and I wasn’t going to listen now.
I could have picked it up; I was bilingual already.
I spoke English and Portuguese and reluctantly a bit of Spanish.
My resentment toward the man refused to let me digest the words.
My spine straightened at the mention of his wife. "I'll wire some over later today."
"Oh, Mijo, it's always good to help your family."
"I have to go, I'm busy." I hung up before he could drag on a conversation neither one of us wanted to be a part of. My tongue felt like it was coated in ash.
He only ever came near me for the money, and every single time I gave it to them.
I sent a message to Grand Myah letting her know I wanted to set up a transfer to family.
At Silver Dreams, they helped me get all of my finances in order.
A lot of people working there had families all over the world that they sent money to.
A confirmation came seconds later, and I erased all our messages, including my fathers. I hit Kelly's name and sighed even heavier at the amount there. Multiple messages of her asking to hang out or meet up.
Did something happen? Why in the fuck did Benito want to meet up so badly? He knew how hard that would be. Cesare was paranoid on a good day. A fanatic on the worst days.
Cesare had a plan for York, but did it warrant this? I'd given Benito the heads-up the moment I knew, but he'd been impossible to reach. Might have been too late but that wasn't my fault. They were the ones in this stupid fucking war with their dad.
Kelly: Free for some drinks?
Kelly: You coming to hang out today?
Rafael: I'm a little busy. How soon are you wanting to hang out?
This was shady as shit even for me. Three dancing dots appeared along with a read receipt before I was even able to put my phone away.
Kelly: Now.
Kelly:
Today was supposed to be a good day. I had another day of Cesare being home with me.
How in the fuck was I supposed to enjoy it if everyone was determined to put me in a bad mood?
The idea of seeing Cesare’s sons made me want to open the freezer and slam the door against my temple repeatedly. They were a lot.
Rafael: Can't. Getting dicked down.
Hopefully Benito saw it and left me alone for a while. He hired me to fuck his dad, so he should let me do that job.
“Who are you texting?” Cesare's deep voice blanketed me in thick heat.
My stomach clenched, and my fingers tightened around my phone. I had to physically fight myself not to tense up all over. Or shove my phone back into my pocket.
“A friend.”
“You said you don't have any.”
I licked my lips, dragging my attention from the screen to meet dark, foreboding eyes.
He watched me with such intensity I didn't dare breathe too hard.
He crossed his arms, stepping further into the kitchen, making the large open concept feel closed off and small.
The plain shirt clung to his chest and arms like I wanted to.
It should be illegal how even in simple clothing he came off as intimidating.
Fear and lust twisted together in a familiar way that had my cock hardening and sweat beading along the back of my neck.
“I don’t.”
Two more steps, and I could smell his cologne as if I were wearing it myself. My mouth watered even as my stomach twisted. My breath hitched as he leaned over me. I wasn't short by any means. But Cesare's few inches above me felt like feet sometimes.
"Then you're lying to me."
It wasn't a question, and I didn't treat it like one.
Because yeah, I was lying to him, but there was no fucking way in hell I was going to add another one to the pile.
Cesare didn't snatch the phone out of my hand, but he held his hand out as if expecting me to hand over all the evidence to my crimes.
Fuck, this shouldn't be hot. I'm scared out of my fucking mind and yet I have a boner. I bit my lip as I passed the phone over without so much as an ounce of self-preservation. How fucked was it that I hoped he found something? He wouldn’t, I was meticulous, but I wanted him to so this game of chess could be over.
All the cards on the table and we could be together.
But I knew that was delusional, even for me.
If I wanted to stay by his side, that meant I had to keep playing the game.
His big hand curled around it, and his gaze dragged from me to the phone. “Who’s Kelly?”
Play it right or you will lose him.
My mental pep talk did what I needed it to do. My heart rate slowed down as everything slowly clicked into place. Truth mixed in always helped sell the lie. “A friend.”
He gave a look that was steeped in darkness and danger.
"You're sexy as fuck when you look at me like you want to break my neck."
Cesare's gaze dropped to my throat, and I groaned. He was thinking about wrapping those hot hands around my neck and squeezing until I saw stars. I'd prefer if he did it while all ten inches of his cock was buried in me, but I'd take him how I could get him.
"Rafael." My name was all the warning I needed.
I rolled my eyes, tamping down the arousal. “She’s the closest thing I have to a friend. And she's trying. I suck ass at it if you haven't noticed, but yeah."
"How did you meet?"
I cocked a brow. "Is this you trying to get to know me better or one of those ‘I think you're here to murder me so now I'm suspicious of you’ kind of questions?
" I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ear, trying to hide the tremor the fear lacing my limbs were inducing.
"You can be, I don't want to say paranoid, but I can't think of a better word yet. "
Cesare crowded closer, looking down his nose at me. "If I was worried about your ability to kill me, I wouldn't sleep so soundly. Now answer the question before you piss me off even more."
"She works at Silver Dreams, and we've gotten along. We're kind of compatible."
A single brow was the only response I received.
"Sexually."
Cesare’s entire body went stock-still. If I wasn’t so in tune to watching his every move, I wouldn’t have noticed. He was so close it would take nothing to touch him. To press myself flush up against him. Holding back sucked.
Yearning for a man was the worst kind of torture, especially a man like Cesare where I had to toe a line I couldn't see.
“You fuck women?” His face was blank, but the shock in his tone was strange. Almost like he was holding something back.
Is he angry?
How in the hell should I answer? I went with the truth. “I prefer to get fucked, but I’ve had a woman top me a few times. We get all types of clients at Silver Dreams.”
His brows scrunched together in thought. "So you don't fuck them, they fuck you?"
"Isn't it all the same? Everyone gets to orgasm?"