Chapter 20 Rafe
RAFE
Ilie with Riley's body pressed against mine, her head tucked beneath my chin, one arm draped across my chest. The bedroom is still dark, the sun not yet risen, and for a moment I just lie there and listen to the steady rhythm of her breathing.
She's asleep, deeply, peacefully asleep in a way I haven't seen since I brought her here.
No tension in her shoulders. No lines creasing her forehead.
Just her face relaxed against my skin, her fingers curled loosely against my ribs.
She was so exhausted when we were done having sex, she fell asleep almost immediately, which only further proves my point that she's pushing herself too hard.
I don't know what she sees in me. I've done terrible things.
I'm not a good man. I've never pretended to be this entire time she's been with me and I never let on for a moment that we could have some fairytale life.
But even when I threaten her with what seems to be a future of punishment or pain, she still doesn't pull away.
I can't wrap my head around it at all. For all intents and purposes, Riley Maddox should hate me for stealing her away from her family during what should be a magical season for her.
Christmas means family, and this year it's even more special with her sister's wedding.
But she doesn't hate me at all. She clings to me like I’m the air she's breathing and without me, she'll suffocate.
Her breathing shifts slightly, and I feel her stir. I run my hand down her back slowly, and she settles again without waking. I want to show her that she matters to me but I don't have the words for it, and even if I did, I'm not sure I'd know how to say them without sounding like a fool.
But maybe I can show her in other ways. Maybe I can prove that keeping her here isn't just about survival or control. It's about wanting her.
She shifts again, her eyes fluttering open, and she tilts her head back to look at me. Her hair is a mess, tangled from sleep, and there's a crease on her cheek from where it pressed against my chest.
"Morning," she says before a yawn slips out. She stretches slightly, her body arching against mine, and then she settles back down with a soft exhale.
"Morning."
"What time is it?"
"I haven't checked," I tell her honestly because time seems suspended when I'm lying naked in bed with her. I brought her tea around nine, I think, but sex took a while. I have to be in the city by one, which means I should probably get started that direction soon.
"Don't you have a meeting?" she asks, probably remembering when I told her I have to check on the toy drive today.
I have no doubt my team will get the guns where they're supposed to be over the next few days.
It's the actual toys I need to make sure get to the right destination.
I won't be the business that reneges on a commitment.
Riley shifts and props herself up on one elbow, looking down at me. "You're staring."
"I'm thinking."
"About what?" she asks softly, and she pushes her hair over her shoulder behind her back.
"Christ, what am I not thinking about?" I sigh hard and roll to my back and stare at the ceiling. "We've come so far…"
She leans over me, resting her chin on my breastbone, and splays her fingers on my chest. But?"
"But I need you to keep working. We have to finish this strong." I won't give her the exhaustive list of what happens if we fail again. I've scared the poor girl enough as it is.
She sits up fully now, pulling the sheet with her, and I see the exhaustion flicker across her face.
Not physical exhaustion—emotional. It scrapes along my raw conscience that's already feeling dissected and exposed.
Riley's not happy with some of the things she's doing.
She's not fulfilled without her family around, and she's worried about their feelings.
Every bit of that is visible in her posture and facial expression.
She doesn’t have to say a word to me to communicate how unhappy she is.
We're tethered by some invisible thread now so that without her making a sound, I know what she's thinking sometimes.
It's a heavy weight when the person you're that connected to is suffering.
And I assume it's probably the best feeling in the world when that same person is soaring on eagle's wings.
"Hey," I tell her, pulling her back down on the bed. She collapses beside me with a forlorn expression, and now she's the one staring at the ceiling.
"I know… I'll keep working," she says numbly, and I can tell it’s getting to her. When I went off on her last night, it broke something inside her. Starting a relationship with someone shouldn't feel like a burden, but that's what I've done to her.
"You're miserable…" I say plainly.
"Do you wonder why?" Her eyes shift, focusing on something across the room so she doesn’t have to look me in the eye.
"No… I don't." I sigh and press a kiss to her temple.
"But I understand, and I'm gonna make it right.
" My mind shifts to the conversation I have to have with Sal today.
There's no way around it. Even if Riley fails and everything goes horribly pear-shaped, she belongs to me. No one will touch a hair on her head.
I've given my entire life for this family.
My father would've wanted more for me, but I settled on being Sal's gopher and worked my way up.
Now even though my cousin Joel is going to take the reins of this family someday, I know I have some sort of standing with Sal.
Even if he doesn't understand it, I hope he'll respect that I've made up my mind.
Win or lose, Riley is mine.
"You're offering big promises, Rafe." Riley turns to look at me now and I see the skepticism in her expression. "You're gonna stand up against your entire family to make this right to me?"
I grimace at her words. I don't know if our definitions of "right" are even relatively the same, but I know the end result will be Riley and me together and her with freedom to be with her family. I can't see the way forward yet, but I won't stop until I have that result.
I kiss her, slowly, and when I pull back, I see the softness in her eyes that makes my chest ache. She cares about me. I don't deserve it, but she does, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure she doesn't regret choosing to stay.
"Why don't you do what you're good at and I'll do what I'm good at? Hmm?" One more peck on the lips and I slide out of bed, grabbing my jeans from the floor and pulling them on while Riley watches from the bed. "I'll get coffee. You want anything to eat?"
"Just coffee's fine." She rolls over to her side and hugs the pillow I used to her chest. I see the hint of her curves under the thin sheet and rethink my decision to slide out of bed so easily, but coffee—and a good pitstop in the bathroom—calls.
I relieve myself in the bathroom and wash my hands before heading to the kitchen to make the coffee, and my mind wanders to that conversation with Sal again.
Part of convincing him of her worth is selling her services to him the way I'd sell a good deal to a potential buyer or supplier.
It's a trick I'm excellent at—so good, in fact, that against all odds, I managed to buy Next Gen for pennies on the dollar from an organization who was all but ready to fold it under.
Now Sal trusts me to run it—or he did before all this bullshit with Lombardi. I know even if I can't pull off the win here, I can definitely sell Riley's capabilities. Sal may only ever look at her as an asset, but if she's mine—and she will be—she'll be safe, even in failure or mistake.
I carry the coffee and the laptop back to the bedroom and find Riley sitting up in bed, the sheet wrapped around her, her eyes on the window. She turns when I walk in, and I hand her one of the mugs.
"Thank you," she says.
I set my own mug on the nightstand and slump onto the bed next to her. She yelps happily as her coffee sloshes at the bouncy mattress, and I settle in to look over her work and get her set up for today.
"Here," I say, opening the laptop and pulling up the files. "I'm giving you encrypted root directory access. You'll be able to see everything, change everything, delete everything."
She sets her mug down and takes the laptop, her fingers moving across the keyboard as she navigates through the system. "Rafe, you're letting me see your whole organization…" Her eyes are wide, skimming content as she scrolls. She looks fascinated and appalled in equal measure.
"I know."
"You're trusting me with this?"
"Yes."
She looks up at me, and I see the surprise in her eyes. "Why?"
"I want you to know I am taking you seriously.
I won't let anything happen to you, and I'm going to make this right.
" There are those words again, empty until I prove myself to her, but her eyes seem to show her doubt is lifting, that this token of trust I'm offering her is giving her confidence that I really will do as I say.
"This is going to take time," she says as her eyes turn back to the computer and her fingers start to fly. I think she’s forgotten that she's stark naked under that sheet and she's too energized to start working for me to remind her and distract her from that zest.
"I know. But you can do it…" She nods, and I stand, pulling on a shirt and reaching for my jacket.
Riley glances up at me, but I only have half of her attention now.
"I need to talk to Don Salvatore," I say.
"About you—and I need to check on the toy drive.
The shipment leaves in two days, and I need to make sure everything is on schedule. "
"The toy drive," she repeats, and I hear the edge in her voice. "You mean the weapons shipment."
"Yes. But the toys are real too, remember. And I want to make sure they get delivered."
She looks away, and I see the conflict on her face. She hates that I'm using the toy drive as cover, but she also understands why. She's seen the records. She knows how the organization operates. And somewhere along the way, she's accepted that this is who I am.
"I'll be back in about four or five hours," I say. "Work on the dead man switch. If you finish that, move on to the Ferretti books. Cut every tie you can find."
"Okay."
I lean down and kiss her forehead, and then I walk out of the room, closing the door behind me.
As I head toward the front door of the safehouse, my mind is already shifting gears. My gut is churning over this talk with Sal, but if I know him like I think I do, he'll at least let me prove myself and Riley. He doesn’t take risks very often, though.
And then there's the toy drive. The weapons shipment disguised as charitable donations, the final big move of the year before the fiscal deadline. It has to go off without a hitch. The Feds are watching too closely, and if anything goes wrong, it could bring the entire operation crashing down.
And I have to get this toy drive locked in and moving smoothly.
It's the last good thing we have going for us this year before we have to dive into what the new year brings for us.
We pull this off and complete the supply chain for these weapons and we'll secure the entire eastern seaboard as ours.
It has nothing to do with the work Riley's doing for me, but it's equally as important to pull off, just part of the responsibility Sal's put on my shoulders.
And if I'm wanting him to take my demands seriously—because they won't be requests at this point—I have to walk in confident that I'm in charge and I've got my ducks in a row. That confidence is what will sell this entire thing to my uncle.
And Riley's life depends on it.