Chapter Seven #2
There are so many hidden passages in this house that I’m glad I let Sophia lead.
Every step she takes, every turn she knows, makes my chest tighten in both relief and frustration—relief that she knows where she’s going, frustration that I don’t.
When we marry and have a home of our own, there will be at least one hidden passage.
Just in case anything happens, so we can escape.
We’re back in Antonio’s office, and I’ve locked the door behind us. Sophia is pacing, phone pressed to her ear.
“Antonio, I need you to come to your office.”
A pause. She rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath.
“No, it has nothing to do with the wedding. But I’m pissed at you for not telling me.”
Another pause, longer this time. Her fingers tighten around the phone.
“Can you just get your ass in here, please?”
She slams the phone down and glares at me, eyes blazing. “He’s coming.”
I nod once, and remain silent. My gaze sweeps over the office, noting the angles, the doors, the possible exits.
As much as I want to tell Sophia to relax, to trust me, I know better.
Marrying me wasn’t something she wanted.
My mind drifts back to last Halloween when she was in my arms and right now it feels like a lifetime ago, my job is to keep them both alive until we get through this.
I sweep the office again, one door leads to the hallway, one window to the outside. If I smash the window or shoot it out we could escape through it. My fingers brush the Glock in my hand, and I check the shotgun slung over my shoulder.
Sophia paces near the desk, her stance tense, phone forgotten for the moment. Maria hovers behind me, fingers twitching as if she wants to check her pistol.
If this hits the fan, I’ll take the center, using the desk as partial cover. Shotguns pack punch at close range; the Glock is quick if we have to move.
I can almost hear my heartbeat in the quiet, loud against the hum of the air conditioning. My eyes flick to Sophia, and the frown that mars her pretty face.
Someone tries to open the door, then a sharp knock rattles it.
“Sis, you in there?”
Sophia moves toward it, but I hold up a hand, gesturing for both women to step behind me.
They do, quick and tense, and I push the door open just enough.
Antonio strides through, shoulders squared, eyes sharp.
I slam the door behind him and lock it. His gaze locks on the Glock in my hand, and before I can say a word, he swings. His fist impacts with my jaw.
“No!” Sophia shouts, stepping between us, only to land flat on her ass. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Antonio. Stop it!”
We break apart, and Maria is between us. “Ant, you have to stop. Raphael is not the enemy.”
“Antonio,” he hisses at her, tension curling in every syllable.
“If you stop, I promise to never call you Ant again.”
Antonio glares, jaw tight. “What the fuck is going on?”
I hold up a hand, laying the Glock on his desk, but my grip on the shotgun never loosens. “Your sister and her best friend were trying to escape—”
“So, you thought you’d take matters into your own hands and stop them?” His voice thunders, booming in the office.
I suck in a deep breath, letting the weight of the situation settle before I speak. “No. If you’ll notice, both women have guns.”
Antonio’s eyes snap to Sophia, then Maria, who’s waving her pistol in the air with a mischievous grin.
“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Antonio asks, hands on his hips, gaze piercing through me.
“Well, if you’d let Raphael finish instead of interrupting, we would,” Sophia fires back, voice sharp.
Antonio circles the desk, sits down, leans back, and crosses his arms. “Fine. Speak.”
I rub my jaw, tension tightening in my shoulders. “At the back of your property… they found your security team. All of them. Dead.”
Silence falls in the room. Antonio blinks, then leans forward, voice low but deadly. “Dead? Who the fuck—?”
Tightening my grip on the shotgun, letting him see the steel in my eyes, I interrupt him, “I don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To make sure it doesn’t happen to us.”
“Who else knew that both families would be here tonight?” Sophia asks.
Antonio leans forward, elbows on his desk. “Everyone who got an invite.” He stands. “This is not talk for women.”
Sophia laughs. “I forgot. We just use women as brood mares and marry them off. Don’t be such a dick, Antonio. You need us.”
Maria moves to stand next to Sophia.
“A man does not stand behind a woman for protection,” replies Antonio.
“No, but a woman could stand next to him,” I say.
Sophia gives me the briefest of smiles but it falls all too quickly from her face.
“We don’t know who it is or how many are outside. We can only assume someone is moving against us.”
Antonio frowns at me and points. “How do we know your family isn’t behind this?”
“How do I know yours isn’t, and you killed your own men to make it look like it was us?”
Antonio holds my gaze, and finally nods. “The deal between your father and mine’s been in the works for six months. I don’t think either of them would risk it over some power play.”
“No, but you might.” My words slice through the air.
He chuckles, low and easy, then glances at his sister. “Sophia, tell Raphael how much I love working for our father.”
“You hate it,” she says, her voice is firm. “You don’t want to run the family.”
I can’t help it—I laugh. “You expect me to believe that you actually shared this with your sister? You’re like me. Groomed to take over from the day you were born.” I pick up the Glock and then lean against his desk.
Antonio smirks, then moves deliberately around his desk, opens a drawer, and pulls out two Glocks, laying them on the surface.
“Exactly. It’s why the deal happened. Neither I nor my brothers want the crown.
Papa faced a choice: hand the family over to some loyal soldier who isn’t blood—or merge with the Costas and put you in charge. ”
I frown, shaking my head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
He grunts, checking the weapons, the sounds are sharp in the quiet room. “It’s how Papa saves face. Territories stay the same, your people stay in place, ours stay in place. Only now, instead of butting heads, we work together.”
I cock my head, studying him. “Why don’t you want it?”
“Angelica,” Sophia murmurs, almost reverently, and Antonio’s expression tightens.
“Yeah,” he says, voice rougher now. “She wants no part of the family business. She agreed to marry me, but she won’t let me put a target on her back—or on our kids. No children growing up in this house. Not like us.”
I tilt my head, incredulous. “You’re giving it all up… for a woman?”
Antonio smiles, slow and knowing, like he’s been waiting for this. “She’s not just any woman.”
I let that hang, studying him.
The room feels smaller somehow, the tension thick, and Sophia says, “For some people, love’s important.”
“Yeah,” he says, eyes flicking to Sophia and then back to me. “For some, it’s the only thing that matters.”
“Who then?” I ask.
Antonio tilts his head back, eyes on the ceiling. His fingers tighten around the triggers of the Glocks in each hand. Slowly, he lowers them, his gaze locking onto mine. “Have you had any run-ins with the Russians?”
I nod, my jaw tight. “Yeah. They’ve been moving in, pushing their tainted shit to some of our dealers.”
“Tainted?” Sophia’s asks.
“Carfentanil,” I say flatly, letting the weight of the word hang in the air.
“They’re giving it away to a few of our dealers.
Free. The catch? It’ll kill you. Hell, even a little on your skin could do it.
They’re trying to push us out. Dealers and clients are dropping like flies.
Makes the cops hungry for a bust, thinking it’s us. ”
Sophia’s eyes widen, and she glances at Antonio. “Is that… our problem too?”
He nods, the movement slow, deliberate. “They don’t care whose turf it is. Death sells fear. Fear sells power. And they’re trying to scare everyone into submission. We either stop them, or we get buried under it.”
I lean forward, pressing my palms to the desk. “And you think they’ll hit us directly?”
Antonio shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe. But they’re smart—they know the cops are looking at us. Our deaths would just make them targets. The smart move is chaos first, then control.”
“You mean they start shooting, we all start shooting at each other, and the only ones left are the Russians so they can take over?” I spit the words out, tasting the bitterness.
Sophia shifts, tugging nervously at her sleeve. “So… what do we do?”
I glance at her, then back at Antonio. “We hit them before they hit us. Hard. Make sure everyone knows the Costas and the Chavez families aren’t soft.”
Antonio tucks one Glock into the back of his trousers. “I like the sound of that. But you’re going to need more than firepower, Raphael. These Russians… they play dirty.”
I let a slow grin creep across my face, the kind that always makes men in the room shift uneasily. “Good. So do I.”
There’s a beat of silence, thick and heavy. Leaning back, I let the Glock rest on my thigh, and study them both. “How do we warn our families?”
Antonio’s eyes glint. “Sophia, could you go out and ask Papa and Mr. Costa to come inside?”
“I don’t want her getting hurt.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
“We need to let them know. Dressed like that,” he looks her up and down, “both men will come inside.”
“I don’t like it,” I say.
Antonio shakes his head. “Sophia, what do you say?”
She takes a slow breath and shoulders the weight of it. “Antonio is right.” She sets the shotgun down. “You aren’t head of this family yet. I don’t take orders from you. But if something were to happen to either man, war would ensue.”
Maria clears her throat. “I’ll go with her. We can just take the pistols. No one will even realize we have them.”
“Perfect,” I say, my sarcasm sharp enough to cut glass, and I glance at Antonio. “Need I remind you this deal between our families only works if I marry Sophia? If she gets herself killed, we’re back to the way we… were.”
Sophia swallows hard, the tremor in her jaw betraying her fear, but she nods. “I… I can do it.”
“Good,” I say, my tone flat, like a blade. “Because the next time someone dies, I want it to be them, not us.”
Antonio leans back, a sly grin creeping over his face. “And I thought today would be boring.”
“No such thing as boring when the Russians are in town. Let’s make sure they remember why we run this city.” My fingers tighten around the Glock, the steel cold against my palm, and the thought of losing her—my obsession—sends a chill straight through me.
Sophia and Maria move toward the door, careful but determined. I watch every step, every twitch of muscle, every flinch. My eyes flick to Antonio, who’s watching them leave.
“Act natural.” My voice stops Sophia and she looks at me. “You’re a spitfire. Make a scene. Demand that both men come inside and if it looks like they won’t raise your voice. They won’t want to be embarrassed in front of their men and the other guests.”
Sophia gives me the briefest of smiles. “I can do that.”
I point at Maria. “And if you can, get my brother Gabriel to come inside with you. Say, ‘chalice’. If he doesn’t come tell him, ‘Raphael has sipped from the poison chalice.’”
“Code word?” asks Antonio.
“Yes, something we’ve done since he was young. A way to let me know if he’s in trouble.”
“Got it,” replies Maria.
Reaching out, I put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Be careful, both of you.”