28. Rafael
28
RAFAEL
Sergio requests that I meet him down by the Newport docks.
“You have fifteen minutes,” he says before hanging up. The triumph was evident in his tone. He was convinced this was his best hand to play after what happened at the warehouse. He might’ve lost in the standoff against Il Diavolo and the Belluccis, but he seems determined to move onto the next best thing.
The third party who had been in attendance, and he’s using my girlfriend to do it.
I’m a man who works notoriously well under pressure. I have had guns pointed in my face and kept my cool. I have been in rooms where I was the enemy of every man around me and managed to be victorious.
When I was a kid living in the slums of Ragusa, I used to have a defeatist attitude. I looked at myself like a victim and let my emotions rule me.
The night I met the devil changed my life. I realized if I wanted to change my destiny, I was going to have to be the one to step up and do it myself.
Success would only come if I didn’t let emotions rule me. I crafted my entire Rafael Calderone persona around it.
But as I bark at Adagio to head straight for the Newport docks, Adagio’s confused by the sudden command. He makes it happen, anyway, slamming on the gas.
The Audi whips around halfway down the street, earning honks from a few other cars in surrounding lanes, then jets off the opposite way.
“Why the docks? What’s going on?” Adagio asks from the front seat. “Why do you look like you ate rotten clams all of a sudden?”
“This is no time for jokes,” I growl through gritted teeth. I’m furiously texting some of my other men. The ones I know are still in the area from the warehouse. “Sergio has Portia.”
“How the hell is that possible? What about Gavino?”
“He won’t answer his phone!”
I dial Gavino’s number for the third time in two minutes. Adagio’s driving like a mad man, bullying his way through any traffic we encounter this late at night.
Unfortunately, it’s a Friday, and in order to make it to the docks, we have to pass through some of the most crowded parts of the city, including the neighborhood where all the trendy bars and clubs are located.
Gavino still doesn’t answer.
“Goddamn it!” I roar, slamming my fist on the rear door’s armrest. His voice mail beeps for me to record my message. “Answer your fucking phone! You’re supposed to be tailing Portia and you let her get taken?! Meglio che tu risponda a questa domanda, altrimenti ti taglio la fottuta gola !”
I hurl threats at Gavino, because it feels like the only thing I can do given the situation.
I’ve never been more instantly reminded I’m powerless.
That’s the problem when you’re a powerful man who has developed feelings for another person. It’s a vulnerability that can be exploited at any time.
It’s a weakness you can’t rid yourself of. Doing so would mean giving up the person altogether.
As we race off to the docks, my heart has rabbited into my throat. My pulse pounds in my ears, dread coiled deep inside me. It spreads like vines climbing up a tree, twisting tighter ’til it feels like I’m being strangled.
I clench my hand into a fist in my lap, glaring at the windshield ahead. We have to hurry or else there’s no telling what Sergio will do.
He’s a humiliated man with an ego and a recent promotion. He’ll do anything to prove himself. Anything he thinks will win him Titus’s approval.
The guy was shot in the fucking shoulder, and instead of accepting his loss for the night, he saw an opportunity to try to turn his luck around.
I answer on the first ring as Maurizio calls.
“Head over now,” I order. “He wants me alone, but there’s no way that will happen. If it’s a firefight he wants, we’ll give it to him.”
“We just got done convincing him and the Tucos you’re not Il Diavolo,” Maurizio points out.
“I don’t fucking care anymore,” I growl in answer. “If I have to reveal myself, I will. We have to get Portia back… and in one piece.”
We come up on the Newport docks.
This time of night, the place is virtually empty. It stretches on for miles along the dark water, supported by old wooden pilings covered in algae. Rusted cranes and cargo containers fill the space above water, the tang of diesel and salt thick in the air.
We park at the entrance, then get out and jog down the weathered planks. My eyes are peeled for the first sign of them. For any clues that will lead me to Portia.
We don’t make it very far before we turn around a stack of shipping containers and find Sergio and his small crew of men. They’re standing underneath a lamp post, their dark silhouettes lit up by the flickering light.
I sprint toward him, a couple paces ahead of Adagio. The business suit I have on isn’t ideal for physical activity, but nothing will stop me from making it in time.
Portia’s nowhere in sight.
I come to a sudden halt in front of Sergio and his guys, my expression darkening.
“Where is she?” I rumble between a deep breath.
Sergio’s wide mouth spreads in a grin. “I guess the secret’s out. I know how to get the Rafael Calderone’s attention. All I’ve got to do is kidnap his girlfriend. You’ve been so elusive, but I see right through you, Mr. Big Time Businessman.”
My jaw clenches and I grind out, “ Tell me what you want and give me her back!”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” He glances at his men fanned out behind him, then grins back at me. He’s wrapped up the gunshot wound in his shoulder with a torn piece of fabric that looks suspiciously like part of Portia’s dress.
If this motherfucker hurt a single hair on her head, there will be no holding back.
I will gladly become the devil he’s so fucking eager to provoke. I will make his existence hell in every way imaginable.
“So I left that warehouse with a hundred different questions,” Sergio says. “How could Il Diavolo set me up like that? Why the hell would he invite you there? What would my boss say when I told him about his demands? Then I got an idea.”
“Spit it out already.”
The grin drops from his face. “Don’t rush me, cocksucker. I’ll go at the pace I wanna go.”
It’s clear Sergio thinks he can boss me around. He can intimidate me.
His takeaway from the meeting at the warehouse was that I’m not Diavolo. I’m just a regular businessman with no official allegiance—and I’m dating the woman who just so happened to be snooping in all of our business.
He’s decided he can bully me into some kind of alliance. I see it a mile away before he ever speaks it into existence.
“Il Diavolo demanded you cut business ties with the Tucos. I’m demanding you cut ties with the Belluccis.”
I glare at him, tracking his every move with my hard gaze. “I have no ties with either of you. I am not allied with either of your families and won’t be.”
“Really? That’s disappointing to hear, Mr. Billionaire. ’Cuz we’ve got a better deal for you than Il Diavolo was offering. We’ve got your girl.”
Sergio gestures to one of the tallest cranes off to our right.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before—there’s an SUV dangling from the hook on the crane, the front end pointed toward the water.
The tinted windows have been rolled down to show me what’s clearly Portia slumped in the driver’s seat. She’s out cold, suspended several stories in air. If the Escalade were to crash into the water, it would be so heavy, it would immediately start sinking.
Portia’s not a strong swimmer. She would be done for, even if she were to wake up during the fall.
I rarely reveal my true emotions on my face. But this is one of those times.
Sergio laughs at the expression I wear as I glance up and survey the crane. “That took some work. You see my guy inside the operator cabin? All it takes is one pull of the lever and SPLASH! Your girl’s going for a swim in the big blue ocean.”
“Money,” I say, finally dragging my gaze away from the crane. It returns to Sergio. “How much do you fucking want? I’ll cut you a check right now.”
He throws his head back in a dramatic laugh. “You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about the money, Mr. Big Shot. It’s about having an asset like you in our back pocket! Il Diavolo thinks he owns you, but he’s got it backward. You’re doing business with only us from here on out.”
I look over my shoulder at Adagio who stares back looking about as pissed off as I do. He’s hot-tempered and the type to shoot off at the hip. I don’t need to exchange any words with him to know he wants so badly to blast these motherfuckers in their faces.
But we’re outnumbered five to one ’til backup comes.
My attention shifts back to the crane holding the Escalade. A strong gust of wind blows in from the ocean and precariously rocks the vehicle side to side on its hook. It doesn’t look like it’s secured the right way, like a few more gusts of wind and it’ll blow the vehicle right off the hook, into the water.
Likely what Sergio wants to happen. His guy controlling the crane won’t even have to lift a finger.
I don’t have much time. I have to do whatever it takes to make sure Portia comes out of this situation unharmed.
“Alright,” I say finally. My gaze drops back down to Sergio and his fat fucking grin. “Alright, you have my word. I’ll end all ventures linked to the Belluccis. I’ll only do business with the Tucos from here on out.”
“Was that so hard? Was it that tough a pill to swallow? This could’ve been solved in five seconds if you’d agreed upfront!”
“Put her down,” I command. “You got what you wanted. Now release her.”
“Interesting word choice, Mr. Billionaire. You know I was shot tonight. I’m not in the best mood. If I was a real asshole, I’d tell my guy to release her… into the water,” he says to a few chuckles from his men. “How about we do this? You put a please on it, and I’ll release her… safely onto the ground.”
This motherfucker.
The first chance I get, he’s dead. Him and his entire crew.
“Please put her down,” I say, forcing my tone to be calm. Forcing myself to be composed. “Please put her on the ground unharmed and let her go.”
“Hmmmmm,” Sergio hums.
He’s dragging it out. He’s savoring every second he has leverage over me.
But what he doesn’t know is that it’s his last second feeling victorious. I sense it before I hear it or see it. I whip around as suddenly headlights flood the scene and almost blind us all.
“ Capo, levati di mezzo !”
I recognize the voice immediately.
Gavino comes out of nowhere, barreling toward us in a taxicab at full speed. Me and Adagio catch on before the others do. We leap out of the way at the last possible moment.
Sergio and most of his men aren’t so lucky.
Gavino’s slams into them like a bowling ball knocking over pins. A few try to open fire to stop him, but they’re not quick enough before being mowed down. He doesn’t even have time to brake before he crashes into the shipping container directly behind them.
“COCKSUCKER!” Sergio roars from the ground, blood trailing down the side of his face. He’s down on one knee, his other leg motionless from being struck by the car. “RELEASE HER! RELEASE THE CAR!”
His guy inside the operator cabin does what he says. He pulls the lever and the crane cranks into gear.
“NO!” I boom, breaking out into a sprint.
Adagio’s rushed toward what’s left of Sergio’s men while I bolt past them. I’m running straight for the edge of the dock.
The crane retracts the hook that’s loosely gripping the Escalade. It seems to fall in slow motion as I pump my legs and sprint toward it. I watch in a cold sweat as the vehicle flips upon its fall straight into the water, making a giant splash that drenches us all.
My hands fly to my suit jacket, wrenching it off. The same happens to my shoes. I kick them off as I leap from the docks and dive into the water after Portia and the Escalade.
Some would say it’s too dangerous.
It’s night, the water is deep and the currents are strong.
I’m not a particularly excellent swimmer… but I am a man infatuated with a woman, willing to do anything I need to in order to save her.
Risk my own life. Die in the process.
Move heaven and hell. Walk through fucking fire. Swim in the deepest fucking ocean.
The splash I make thunders in my ears. Ice cold water smacks into me like a wall.
The world turns black and blue as I break the surface. It’s a disorienting second that I fight through, searching for the Escalade.
I spot it immediately. It’s sinking into the deep, the murky water distorting the large dark shape of it. Portia’s still trapped in the front seat, slumped over the wheel.
I kick off hard and swim straight toward her, fishtailing a direct path. I make it as quick as humanly possible, coming up on the driver’s side and reaching for the door only to discover it’s locked.
Damn it!
Bubbles stream from her nostrils, her dark hair floating around her. She looks eerie sitting so still underwater, like she’s already gone.
I have to fucking hurry. There is no time to waste.
I reach through the open window and wrap my arms around her torso to lift her out. Except Sergio and his men have strapped her in by the seatbelt. They’ve even fucking bound her wrists in rope. Even if she were awake and could swim, she wouldn’t be able to free herself and swim to safety.
They’ve made sure of that.
Pushing myself halfway through the open window, my hands push at the button on the seatbelt, fumbling with it to release her. The band finally retracts and she’s freed. I hook an arm around her waist and drag her out with me.
Then I start toward the surface, kicking upward. My lungs are burning and I’m starting to run out of the breath I’m holding. If I don’t make it soon, we’ll both be dead.
We breach the surface with a gasp tearing out of me. I suck in air like I’ve never tasted it before. Portia’s limp in my arms, eyes closed and wet hair covering half her face. I pull her with me to the dock, looking wildly above ground for help.
The scene before me is even more chaotic than I left it.
The men Gavino hadn’t mowed down have been killed by Adagio. But they’re no longer alone—several more of my men have finally shown up. They rush toward me and Portia as soon as they see us floating in the dark water.
We’re pulled out, returning to safe, dry land.
I ignore my men, pushing myself up onto my knees beside Portia. Lowering my head to her chest, I pray I’ll hear a heartbeat. That she’s still alive.
It comes, a dull and slow beat that tells me she’s been through it tonight. But she’s hanging on.
“ Grazie a dio ,” I mutter, breathless. My hand strokes her face, brushing some of her wet hair away. “ Dolcezza, per favore apri quei bellissimi occhi e guardami .”
She comes to… gradually.
First her eyes roll from behind her eyelids, then her head slips to the side as if she’s fighting her way to consciousness. She releases a soft groan.
I cup her cheek and whisper more tender words, hoping it’ll bring her back to me. Her skin is so damn cold. She has bruises on her throat and her dress is torn at the hem. She really has been through hell tonight, and I need her to wake up so I can make it better.
I can take care of her and right every fucking wrong done.
“Rafael…” she murmurs, her eyelids finally fluttering open. She stares up at me hazily, telling me she’s barely clinging to consciousness.
“ Dolcezza ,” I say, caressing her cheek. “I’m here. You’re safe. It’s going to be okay. I’m taking you home with me.”
My arms slip under her. I stand up, holding her close. She curls against my chest like she’s desperately seeking the warmth of my body heat. Though I don’t have much to give as usual; I’m soaking wet like she is.
“Where is my car?” I yell at my men. “We need to leave immediately.”
Adagio and Maurizio both fall into step beside me. One on my left. The other on my right.
“ Sono tutti morti ,” says Adagio. “ Gavino ne ha uccisi quasi tutti. Noi abbiamo fatto il resto. Ha detto che lo avevano attaccato, ma lui li ha seguiti fin qui. ”
“ Tranne Sergio ,” adds Maurizio. “ Lo abbiamo lasciato vivo per te .”
“ Bene. Voglio che venga portato nella mia camera. Mi occuperò di lui più tardi .”
I gently slide Portia into the back seat of the Audi then get in after her. She can barely sit up, her head rolling from her left to right shoulder. Her whole body is quaking, even her teeth chattering.
“Th-thanks,” she says through a deep shiver.
“Shhhh. Don’t speak, dolcezza . Conserve your energy.” I throw my suit jacket over her like a blanket. Thankfully, Adagio had enough sense to grab it on our way back to the car. I look up at the front where he sits behind the steering wheel. “Crank up the heat. We need to warm her up.”
Adagio nods. “We’ll be at the penthouse soon.”
Good.
Then I can have my private physician take a look at her.
Portia drifts off to sleep almost as soon as the car sets into motion. She casts me a small, grateful smile before nodding off.
I lean over and kiss her forehead. “ Va tutto bene, dolcezza. Sei al sicuro con me e non ti lascerò mai andare .”