Chapter 25 Rafael
Rafael
The vending machine coffee grows cold, a layer of oil floating on its surface within the flimsy Styrofoam walls.
‘Something tells me you didn’t request to come and see me so we could sit in silence. Although, I can keep pretending, if that’s what you want?’
George Thorne relaxes in his plastic chair on the opposite side of the small, cheap table. If I wanted to reach right across and wring his neck, I could. I could flip the bloody thing over, then smash his head against the floor.
I could make him tell me what I want to know.
I roll my lips, glancing away. The thought of Aurora getting a call telling her that her father’s been taken to the hospital is the only thing stopping me.
She’d be worried. She’d be upset. The thought of either of those things is more unpleasant to me than the man sitting opposite me.
The man who’s wearing an open expression, like we could actually have a conversation, man to man.
I clear my throat.
‘This is how it’s going to work. First, you’re going to tell me what you did with the money you took.’
He laughs, actually goddamn laughs.
‘Okay. And then I’ll tell you I’m Santa Claus too.’
‘You think this is funny?’ I glare at him.
‘How much did you lose?’
‘How much did I have stolen?’ I correct. There’s no point in beating around the bush, so I get straight to it, studying his reaction carefully. ‘Two hundred and forty million.’
He shrugs like it’s mere pocket change. ‘Some lost more, so better get in line. Although I have to warn you, you’ll be waiting a long time. I don’t have a clue where your money is.’
I suck in a sharp breath through my nose. It took a week to get my visitor request granted. And for what? So this arsehole can play with me?
‘Well, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it? Because I’m sure a little . . . cooperation would be useful, if I were to, say’ – I tip my head, eyes dropping over his crumpled clothes – ‘have a word with the prison governor about getting you some . . . additional home comforts.’
He rests his forearms on the table and leans over eagerly. ‘You can do that for me?’
‘Mr Thorne. I’m a resourceful man with friends in high places. I can do just about anything.’
He nods, his eyes narrowing like he’s mentally compiling a list.
I smirk internally. Some better bed sheets, magazines, a cuddly fucking teddy bear. If it makes him give me what I need, then I can make it happen.
‘Do you know what they took? When they bashed in our front door?’ He doesn’t wait for me to answer.
‘Everything,’ he hisses. ‘They took bloody everything. Even my dead wife’s clothes.
They ransacked the shit out of my house!
They weren’t theirs to take. My daughter wanted to keep them, to remember her mother.
They restrained her when she tried to stop them. ’
My blood boils and I bite back my grimace at the image of Aurora seeing all of that. Of them touching her.
‘Give me the officers’ names. I’ll make sure they’re fully investigated if they used unnecessary force.’
George sits back in his chair, shaking his head. ‘What’s the point? It’s not going to undo the damage, is it? It’s not going to erase that memory from my daughter’s head.’
My jaw clenches. He’s right.
‘I’m worried about her. She’s too trusting. Too na?ve.’
Something in his tone has me listening more carefully. ‘And?’ I encourage.
‘And she was always this bright, happy young woman. She lit up every room she walked into. And now she’s visiting me here. I see the way it affects her. My daughter’s everything to me. It’s always been just me and her. You think I wanted to get locked up in here? Away from her?’
‘I think you didn’t want to get caught,’ I answer.
He snorts, turning away, then asks, ‘How’s Dove?’
‘Leave my sister out of this,’ I say with a deathly calm to my voice.
‘She’s been a good friend to Rory,’ he continues. ‘She’s the only one who’s stuck by her through all this. The only one who believes I’m innocent.’
‘My sister makes questionable decisions at times,’ I reply, forcing my arse to stay in the cheap plastic chair so I don’t launch myself at the bastard and drive my fist into his face.
‘You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her? Would you?’
He doesn’t see me coming. The coffee flies to the floor and I’m fisting the collar of his shirt before he can even blink.
‘Are you threatening me?’ I hiss.
He doesn’t look worried. In fact, the arsehole looks pleased, like this is exactly the reaction he wanted.
A guard rushes over, but George waves them away. ‘We’re fine. Just a misunderstanding.’
The burly guard eyes me in warning, and I let go of George’s shirt and slowly lower back into my seat.
‘Don’t bloody test me,’ I warn in a low voice as the guard walks away, keeping his eyes on us. ‘I can get you sent to another prison that makes this one look like Buckingham Palace.’
George straightens the front of his shirt. ‘It wasn’t a threat. I just needed to know if you were the right man.’
‘Right man for what?’ I spit.
‘To keep an eye on my daughter.’
I reel back. ‘You’re joking. Why the—?’
‘I know your sister well. I probably saw more of her before I got put in here than you did. My daughter adores her and trusts her, and I trust my daughter’s judgement.’
‘Spare me the bullshit. What do you want?’
‘Dove says you’re a good man.’
‘Debatable,’ I grit.
‘You’re a man who loves his family. Who would do whatever it takes to help them. I can see that.’
I don’t like where this is going . . .
‘Leave my family out of this,’ I snarl.
He inhales slowly, eyes pinching as he studies me across the table.
‘I have no intention of doing otherwise.’
The tension in my bunched-up shoulders eases a fraction.
‘As long as you bring mine into it,’ he adds.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ I snap. But as I look into his eyes, I get it. ‘Aurora?’ I whisper, her name coming out softly.
‘My daughter,’ George confirms. ‘She’s struggling. With money and bills and things. She won’t admit it to me, but I know her.’
‘What do you want?’
‘You said yourself: you’re a well-connected man. Make some calls. Get them off her back.’
‘Her rent’s already taken care of,’ I tell him. Perks of being her new landlord.
‘And the rest.’ George grimaces. ‘She’s not .
. . she’s not eating enough. I wouldn’t put it past her to be living off the samples at Tesco.
She used to love that as a kid. Trying all the freebies they’d have out on the counter.
’ He tries to smile, but it falls straight from his face.
‘She won’t tell me if she’s struggling.’
‘And you think she’ll tell me?’
‘Not unless she thinks you’re something bloody special, she won’t.’ He snorts. ‘She only lets people she really cares about get close to her. But I think you can help her anyway.’
‘And if I do?’
He levels me with a look that cuts right through me, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine.
‘Then I’ll tell you where it is. Every. Damn. Penny.’
I lean my head back against the Bugatti’s cool leather headrest.
‘Dammit!’ I curse, punching the steering wheel.
He wants me to watch over Aurora. Act as her what? Goddamn guardian angel?
I snort, our company’s name taunting me.
Guardian Fairfax. Protecting the priceless. Providing you peace.
My mother’s whimsy over the way she and I were saved in that car accident led to my father’s name choice for the business.
Guardian Fairfax because of guardian angels.
And my mother’s choice to name me Rafael.
The slogan came later, once Dove was born.
She was the ‘peace’. The calm baby. The one that completed our family, my father said.
And then we got Angelo too. A happy bonus for all of us, except, perhaps, my father.
I crack my knuckles, staring out of the window at the uninspiring grey box of a building.
He’s in there laughing at me. George bloody Thorne. Mastermind. Blackmailer. Desperate father.
I know he’s playing the only card he thinks he has. One that will help Aurora. The poor arsehole practically collapsed with relief when I agreed to his proposition.
I don’t want to be indebted to George Thorne. I’d look out for his daughter for goddamn nothing other than my own peace of mind since I discovered she’s struggling. But now I understand what his offer really means, and it throws a whole new light upon the situation. A whole new light indeed.
I drag in a deep breath and pull out my phone. My thumb hovers over the name, hesitating before I hit call.
‘Hello?’
She answers on the second ring, making satisfaction burn warm and reassuring in my chest.
It’s been a week, but she wants to talk to me. Maybe she’s been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about her.
‘Aurora,’ I purr softly. ‘How are you?’
There’s a pause before she answers. ‘Fine.’
I can hear the hesitation in her voice. The suspicion. She isn’t used to me calling her, and certainly never with anything less than blame and distrust dripping from my voice.
‘How’s your week been?’
‘Fine.’
I smile. She’s going to make me work for it. Good girl.
‘I’ve been thinking about you,’ I tell her.
Silence.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Why are you calling me?’ she bites. ‘We aren’t doing this.’
‘Doing what?’
‘This. It was once. You said I’d never have to speak to you again. I thought we agreed.’
‘It was twice, actually.’ I lick my lips at the memory.
‘I don’t care what it was. It’s done. I want to forget about it.’
I sit up in my seat, a flash of unexpected nerves coiling in my gut and taking me out like a bat to the knees. She sounds so sure. How can she be? After a night like that? The threat of her slipping away tugs at my subconscious, engaging my mouth before my brain.
‘Where are you? I’ll come to you so we can talk.’
‘What’s there to talk about?’
‘Aurora,’ I growl.
She huffs. ‘I can’t. I just had coffee with Dove, and I’ve got work to do.’
I lean back into my seat again. So that’s it.
It’s not that she wants to forget about that night, it’s that she can’t forget about it.
And seeing my sister has made her feel guilty.
The knowledge is like a soothing balm cascading over me.
Aurora might be my sister’s best friend, but I’ve known Dove her whole life.
My sister won’t be angry at Aurora for being with her brother.
She’ll just come for my balls if I hurt her friend.
‘Are you filming more videos?’ I ask, unable to conceal the interest piquing my tone.
‘Seriously?’ she scoffs.
But I hear it, the hint of heat in her voice.
She knows I’ll be watching as soon as she loads them up.
And she knows what I’ll be doing as I watch.
That’s been my only saviour this past week, trying to maintain distance from her until I saw her father.
I needed answers before I spoke to her again, concerned that I’d tell her what a pathetic excuse for a father he is, leaving her suffering alone, when he has the means stashed away to help her.
And I know she thinks she already hates me after one or two meagre comments I’ve made.
But if I annihilated him like that, I’m not sure there would have been any coming back from it.
And now I’ve seen him, it changes everything.
‘I’m always serious when it comes to you and your career, Aurora,’ I say.
And I’m seriously looking forward to her new videos. I’ve devoured the ones she’s already posted this past week. Although none of them are a scratch on the real thing. Not now I’ve felt her beneath me, tasted her, heard the sounds she makes when she comes undone.
Looked into her eyes as she’s come all over my cock.
She snorts. ‘You don’t think it’s a stupid hobby?’
‘Why would I think that?’
‘Charlie always said . . .’ She stops short as a rough grunt leaves my throat at the mere mention of her idiotic ex. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she finishes.
‘I want to see you,’ I clip.
‘No.’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘Yes!’ I snap. ‘Give me one good reason I can’t.’
‘I can give you a million,’ she argues.
We’re silent for a few seconds, just the sounds of two sets of laboured breathing echoing on the line.
But she hasn’t hung up.
‘Beauty,’ I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose, my voice dropping to a soft exhale. ‘I miss you. Please.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she whispers back, her fight making way for something stronger. Desire. Desire for me. For us. For the way I’m praying she feels when she’s with me. Judging by the way she kissed me and slept so contentedly in my arms, I’d say she does feel it. Even if she doesn’t want to.
Because I need her to feel the same damn way I feel – obsessed, out of control, complete.
‘Rafael, we . . .’ She falters, and I hear it. The way she breathes my name, like it feels right on her lips.
‘We . . .’ I repeat, bringing us together as one, uniting us in a singular word. ‘We should talk about things. I want to ask you something.’
‘What?’
‘Not now.’
‘I’m not playing games with you. You want to ask me something, you can ask me now,’ she says.
I bring my phone away from my ear and press the screen to switch to video. Mistrusting eyes appear, framed by soft golden strands, blowing around her face as she walks. I study the buildings behind her for clues about where she is.
‘You’re so bloody beautiful.’
Her cheeks flush and she glances away, her attention on the street ahead.
‘Ask me then,’ she says.
‘I need to look into your eyes. Stop walking.’
She sighs, annoyed.
‘Good girl,’ I murmur as she comes to a standstill and looks directly at her phone’s camera.
‘What is it?’
The flush deepens on her cheeks as I take a few moments to gaze at her, admiring each curve of her face.
‘I need you to tell me the truth,’ I say slowly.
‘Okay.’
Wide, innocent aquamarine eyes blink at me as I lose myself in their depths. Sunlight on top of a glistening, calm ocean.
‘Do you know where it is?’
‘Do I know where what is?’
Her brow furrows in confusion. I’ve never asked her outright. And I know the answer now, after visiting her father. But I need to hear it from her. After all these months, I need to look into her eyes and hear it from her.
‘The money I was investing with your father’s old firm. The money that was stolen from me. Aurora, do you know where it is?’