25. Rafael
25
RAFAEL
There is no throwing Portia James off your trail once she believes she has a lead. She’s the type of reporter that can’t be bought or paid for; she can’t be shaken off or intimidated. If she’s going to give up a story, it’s only going to be because the trail either runs cold or it turns out to be false.
Both of which, I decide, are the case for her current investigations. One will be false. The other will lead her to a dead end.
La mia bella dolcezza doesn’t realize that I’ve spent countless hours watching her. It started in the early mornings on Metro News, where she was the sole reason I tuned in. Then it bloomed in other ways, with my initial searches into her life. I stumbled across her marriage and educational background. I learned all about her orphaned childhood and the tragedy of her life.
When she went to Jamaica for a work trip, I knew about it. I was watching every day, through means like locals I’d paid off, and the insider at the station who secretly works for me (executive producer Pat Linetti has been in my back pocket for years).
I knew about her volunteer work at the Rise and Thrive Foundation and her aspirations to make it to the evening news.
…before she ever told me in Sicily.
As it turns out, Portia isn’t the only one who investigates her romantic partners.
Which is exactly why I anticipated that, if we were ever to become involved, the day would come where she would investigate me. Her curiosity is so natural to her that she’d eventually get a little curious and begin digging into my background and business dealings.
So I destroyed what little remained of my history. I had some of my men delete any trace of my life after the age of seventeen. The decade that was my twenties was wiped clean, as I worked my way up in the world.
Everything about those years erased like they never existed.
All that would come up if anyone ever looked into me were some vague puff pieces about my business acumen or glowing reviews of my latest ventures.
It would be a dead end for Portia when she inevitably looked into my history. She would have no choice but to let her suspicions fizzle out.
Portia may not realize that I have access to her computer files and search history… but I do. I can see every last corner of the internet she scoured trying to dig things up on me before finally she seems to realize there’s nothing.
Good.
It’s for the best that she drops it.
I’m under no illusion I’m a good man. Some would say I’m not even bad. I’m a monster. I’m the devil in a suit and tie who leaves a trail of blood in his wake.
Those assessments wouldn’t be completely wrong. I have been ruthless as businessman Rafael Calderone; no one becomes a billionaire without being cutthroat and extremely ambitious.
As Il Diavolo, I have been violent, remorseless, and a nightmare come to life. I have ruined men’s lives with no loss of sleep at night but instead, I’ve relished in my victories. I have done things Portia would probably never understand.
If she ever knew the truth, she would hate me. She would be disgusted.
How could la mia dolcezza love a man like me? How could she ever overlook such darkness?
If I were a selfless man, I would let her go. I would spare her from ever falling for a man who turns into the devil incarnate.
But I can’t, because I’m not a selfless man. I’m a selfish man. I want her and will do anything to have her, even if it means throwing her off Il Diavolo’s trail and my true identity.
Sabotaging her other investigation is trickier.
There are far more moving parts to the war between the Belluccis and the Tucos. Portia refuses to drop her deep dive into the drug shipments and the new psychedelic rumored to be hitting the streets soon.
She’s put herself in danger numerous times. First it was her pushing for answers at the meat-packing district shooting. The dirty cops on the force let me know all about how she’d refused to back off even when Captain Poveri (also on my payroll) told her the investigation was ongoing and they had no new leads.
Then it was her insider scoop with Benjamin Sigler. Then it was poking her nose around at Bocca while Luigi Grasso was there.
The woman refuses to quit. Something I admire about her, and find inexplicably sexy, but that has also frustrated me to no end.
Initially, I believed purchasing Metro News would serve a purpose twofold—I could save Portia’s job and the fledgling news network while also using it as a means to keep a handle on her investigations. I could make sure she didn’t get too in over her head.
But she’s only pushed harder, dug deeper, actually unearthing things.
I barely find out about her impromptu visit to U4EA in time to put a plan in action.
The other moving parts of the situation have made it difficult to strategize. The Tucos are involved, as is Don Vito and others like Consigliere Anthony.
I had to figure out how to battle Tuco, satisfy Don Vito, and keep my actions hidden from Portia. All while she actively pursued answers about the drug war between the Belluccis and our nemesis mafia family.
Needless to say, it wasn’t fucking easy. But I devised a last-minute plan that’ll work flawlessly.
“Keep a close eye on her,” I say, my desk phone pressed into my ear.
Gavino is on the other end. He’s dressed discreetly in an outfit that’ll blend in at U4EA, where he’ll be tailing her the entire night, ensuring she doesn’t get in too much trouble.
“We could have her turned away at the door,” he says.
“No… I’ve already told the bouncers to let her in if she drops my name. It’s best we let her get this out of her system now. She’ll go inside and probably figure out what Sergio is up to. Knowing her, she’ll want to follow. Then the rest of the plan can take place.”
I can hear Gavino grinning on the other end. “You are a genius, Diavolo.”
“ Non baciarmi il culo. Non ti farà guadagnare alcun favore. Fai il tuo lavoro e non rovinarlo .”
I hang up on him in time to glance up and notice Maurizio has entered my office. My lead enforcer is a couple inches taller than me—and heads above most people—but we have similar enough builds. Both wide in the shoulder and chest areas with a leaner waist. We wear almost the same suit size and have dark hair and thick beards.
He’s as close to a doppelg?nger as it’ll get so short notice.
“You needed to speak with me?” he asks in his deep monotone, anchored by his Italian accent.
“Yes, you are going to be me tonight.”
I’m reclined at my desk, fingers steepled, devil mask concealing my face. Maurizio’s rarely one to be expressive, but even he can’t resist in this moment. His brow creases in confusion as he tries to make sense of what I’ve said.
“We are going to kill two birds with one stone,” I go on to explain. “Titus Tuco and his band of leccaculos clearly know who I am. They know of Rafael Calderone’s secret identity. Or at least they believe they do.”
“Because of the yacht,” Maurizio says.
“And much more than that. They shot up the charity dinner. They’ve suspected for a while. We’re going to throw them off Rafael Calderone’s trail. Nectar will be sold at U4EA tonight. Sergio will show up to confront Milos for betraying him. Milos will betray us too.”
Maurizio’s head slants to the side, still confused. “But Adagio brought him by the warehouse earlier to give him a tour of the product.”
I grin from behind my devil mask. “Yes, he did. Because I asked him to. Milos needs to know the warehouse for our drug operation… or what was once our warehouse. We’ll be moving to a new location after tonight.”
“I’m not following.”
“You don’t need to. You only need to do your part. Which is to dawn my mask, sit on my throne, and be Il Diavolo for the night.”
“ Sì, diavolo. Lo farò ,” says Maurizio, giving a dutiful nod like the soldier he is. He leaves me alone again in my office.
I rise up out of my chair and turn toward the window that overlooks Newport’s financial district.
It’s all hustle and bustle. Tall buildings and congested streets. Pocket-sized pedestrians in suits, carrying briefcases, rushing off to their next meeting or engagement. I can practically smell the money in the air.
The success. The victory.
That’s what tonight will be.
My drug will be on the market. The dough will be rolling in. Don Vito and Anthony will have no choice but to back off. Sergio and the Tucos will be powerless to stop it then be thrown off Rafael Calderone’s trail.
Portia will be just the same. She’ll realize Il Diavolo and Rafael Calderone couldn’t be more different. As far as she’ll be concerned, they won’t even be the same man.