16. Raphael
Raphael
16
In all the craziness over the past few days, Emilia’s pending arrival completely slipped my mind. And her timing can not have been any worse.
“Fiancé?” Lily repeats, and she sounds almost devastated.
“Yes. Raphael DiAngelo.”
Lily turns to me, her wide blue eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions, sadness casting the deepest shadow. I feel compelled to tell her the truth because it seems like if I don’t, I might lose her. The idea of her believing Emilia feels like a knife to the gut.
Right as I prepare to counter Emilia’s statement, Dad interrupts.
“Emilia, what a wonderful surprise. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Well, I just couldn’t wait to come visit and meet Raphael.” Her eyes dart to me before she blushes. “My fiancé.”
I’m uncertain what about my face makes her feel welcome. Seems like she needs to be reminded. “We’re not engaged.”
“Officially, not anymore, but—”
“No buts. We are not engaged, so I am not your fiancé.”
The pout she sends my way screams her young age. “I hoped that after we spent some time together, that could change back.”
“It won’t.”
“Emilia.” Dad steps in, and she drags her attention to him. “Your father and I dissolved the contract of marriage between you and my son because it was no longer—”
“I didn’t agree to that.” She stomps her foot, once again acting like the child she is.
Dad narrows his eyes, clearly annoyed by her interruption. That Emilia is a guest here is probably the only reason he doesn’t lash out. “Because it was not up to you. I graciously agreed to allow you to visit Miami out of respect for my friendship with your father. Do not make me regret that decision.”
“Dante?” Mom announces a moment before she enters Dad’s office. She surveys the crowd, discerning the tense and uncomfortable atmosphere permeating the space.
“Maybe I should go find Mei and the others,” Lily suggests, making ready to stand.
My hand shoots out automatically and grabs her arm. “Stay.” I urge. At first, she tenses under my touch, but then she surrenders and stays seated. “I was not aware we had company,” Alice says politely, focusing on Emilia.
“Alice, this is Emilia. Emilia, this is my wife, Alice.” Dante introduces the two.
Emilia holds her hand out. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. DiAngelo, or may I call you Alice?”
“Thank you, and Mrs. DiAngelo is fine,” Alice replies, ignoring the disappointment clear on the girl’s face. “We were not expecting you until tomorrow. Your room is not ready.”
Emilia drops her hand. “Oh. I can wait.”
Alice inhales deep and slaps the most fake smile I’ve ever seen on her face. “Of course. I’ll get right on that.” Before Emilia can say another word, Mom turns to me, and her smile transforms into a real one. “And you must be Lily.”
Lily stands, walks closer to my mom, and sticks her hand out, but instead of accepting it, Alice gathers Lily in her arms for a quick hug. “I’ve been so excited to meet you.”
“Uh, me too, Mrs. DiAngelo.”
“Oh please, there’s no need to be so formal. You may call me Alice.”
I’ve got to hand it to my mother—she’s the queen of passive aggression and no fucks given. She once stormed in during an important meeting of Dad’s, pregnant with Gabriella, demanding to know why he missed their ultrasound appointment. When he blamed his mistake on his phone, she took the device and threw it against a wall, missing his head by mere inches. Mom also refused to prepare the wedding bouquet for Sophia when we got married. An Italian tradition she claimed wasn’t necessary since the bride was Russian.
“Okay…Alice, thank you for having us,” Lily says gratefully.
“Of course. Your daughter is the most adorable little girl.”
“Hey Raphael, are you still in here?”
Michael walks into the already crowded office. Dad drops his head and sighs, mumbling something about the damn holidays and needing a larger house.
Mom kisses her eldest son’s cheek before turning to her husband. “I’ll get the girls out of your hair, darling.”
“Much appreciated, dear.”
Alice ushers a simmering angry Emilia out. Lily looks back at me over her shoulder and smiles softly before following.
“Was that Emilia?” Michael asks as soon as the office door shuts.
“Yes,” Dad answers.
“She’s early.”
“She is,” I answer this time.
Michael raises a brow at me. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” I bite out.
Michael chuckles, apparently amused by my predicament. Bastard. “Well, maybe what I have to share will cheer you up. Dominic’s at Sinners with the doctor.”
“What are you getting Lily and Mei?” Michael asks as he navigates the car through the city streets toward Sinners.
After the shit show in Dad’s office, I’m itching to get my hands on the man and shed some blood.
“I don’t know yet.” I haven’t given it much thought until last night when I sent the list we made to Mom. “What are you getting Rose and Liam?”
Michael groans and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not just our first Christmas, it’s the one Rose will always remember. If I fuck this up, I’ll never live it down.”
I stare at my brother in wonder. He’s actually freaking out about this. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. You could give the woman a brown potato sac and she’d be happy.”
“What do you think about a pair of emerald earrings? They’ll bring out her green eyes. No. I can’t do earrings. Liam will just grab them. He’s already pulled a pair off the other day. What about a new ring? I could do Liam’s birthstone,” Michael rambles. “What’s the birthstone for September, anyway?”
“Emerald,” Enzo supplies from the back seat. “Evie was born in September too.”
Michael peers at Enzo in the rearview mirror. “What are you getting Evie?”
Enzo pushes harder into his seat, rotating his sore shoulder to ease the discomfort. Poor guy, just as he was recovering from the bullet wound he suffered while shielding Rose, he gets into a car accident. He’s lucky all he ended up with was a dislocated shoulder and a bullet graze.
Frowning, Enzo stares out the window. “No idea. If the woman wants something, she just goes out and buys the damn thing. Can’t surprise her with anything.”
Sounds like there’s more to unpack there, but we pull up to Sinners before Enzo can elaborate.
Dom looks up from his phone when I walk into the white room downstairs. He holds the device up with a quizzical look. “Why did Michael create a group chat freaking out about Christmas?”
Jesus. I left the man alone for less than a minute. “Don’t ask. How’s our friend?”
Dom waves his hand toward the doctor tied up in a chair while his eyes remain glued to his phone. “He passed out somewhere around the fifth toenail being pulled off.”
The bloody evidence litters the tile floor. The doctor’s head hangs forward heavy against his chest.
Looks uncomfortable.
Good.
While I’m busy filling a bucket of water, Michael and Enzo enter the room, arguing about how a bracelet is better than a necklace. Sighing hard, I bow my head at the sink and wonder what I can say or do to convince everyone to just leave me alone with the doctor.
Once satisfied with the water level, I turn around, aim, and promptly toss the entire contents onto Dr. Rodriguez. He wakes up immediately and starts yelling. It won’t do him any good, though. The room is completely soundproof.
“What the hell?” he shouts. “Let me go! You sick motherfuckers.”
“Such language is ill becoming of a doctor,” I comment.
“I don’t give a fuck! Who in their right mind kidnaps a man and tortures him? What do you want?”
“And what kind of man drugs and rapes an innocent woman before selling her?”
Dr. Rodriguez looks at me in confusion and pain. “What–what are you talking about, man? I already told the other one, I haven’t ever done something like that.”
“Come on, Joe. The more you lie, the more painful things are going to become.”
“I’m serious! I’m a doctor, for God’s sake!” he cries out. “We save lives.”
“That’s interesting.” I glance at the others, who are finally more interested in what’s going on than picking out gifts. “Have you guys ever heard of a doctor who treats their patients by selling them?”
Michael shakes his head. “Can’t say I have.”
“Nope,” Dom adds.
“Nada,” Enzo says.
Looking back at the doctor, just the very idea of this bastard touching Lily, using her, abusing her over and over against her sends a hot surge of anger rushing through me until all I see is red.
Pulling my knife out, I bury it in his hand, effectively pinning it to the chair armrest. Then, with another knife, I slice off his pinky. The sight of blood squirting and the sound of his agony brings me pleasure deep in my dark soul, pleasing the devil on my shoulder. So I slice off his thumb too.
“Kind of hard to be a doctor without a thumb. Don’t you think so?” I comment casually while I study the severed digit before I flick it into the doctor’s screaming face. It falls to his lap and then the tile with a sick, wet sound.
“Help! Someone help me!”
The most annoying part of torture is the screaming. It hurts the ears and interrupts necessary conversation. If we didn’t need him able to talk, I would have poured battery acid down his throat already just to shut him up.
I drag a chair forward and plop down in front of the doctor. “So. Let’s get back to it then, Doc. Tell me about your time in Columbia six years ago.”
Joe tosses his head back and sobs. His face is wet from sweat and tears, growing pale from the pain and blood loss.
“What are you talking about?”
“Maybe all the drugs have damaged his brain over the years,” Michael suggests.
I wouldn’t doubt it. “Let me refresh your memory.” I pull my phone out and open a picture of Lily dressed in her professional white coat. Evie sent it to me the other day when she ran a background check on her. Something I hated to do but understood was necessary. Turning it around, I ask, “Remember her?”
It takes a second, but then his eyes light up in recognition, and his pale face grows a sick gray.
“Yeah,” I say, putting my phone away. “That’s what I thought.”
“I don’t know what she told you, man, but she asked for it. She wanted me to fuck her. She begged me for it.”
“Man, give this guy an Oscar.” Enzo snorts. “That’s the best acting I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m serious! I didn’t drug her, and I definitely didn’t rape her. She wanted it. I swear.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what consent looks like,” I say. “Didn’t your parents teach you that no means no?”
“That’s rich, coming from a maniac who has me tied up and torturing me.”
Finally. Now, we’re getting somewhere.
A sick smile stretches across my face as I lock eyes with him, letting him see the unsettling sight of a devil sharpening its claws in my gaze. A devil excited to come out and play.
“What kind of doctor did you say he was again, Dom?” I ask, my eyes never leaving the shaking man.
“He switched from emergency medicine to plastics a few years ago. Must be all that guilt weighing on his mind from all the women and, who knows, maybe men too, he sold.” Dom replies.
“I’ve never fucked a man, you sick bastard.”
“Oh, well, thank God for small miracles, I guess,” Dom snaps back.
I run the cold steel of my blade down one of his three remaining fingers on his hand. “What happened, Doc? The women in emergency med no longer doing it for you? So you switch to plastics, where you just have free access to them all the time?”
“Don’t tell me you molest them while they’re under,” Michael growls.
Joe’s face falls as more tears fall freely from his eyes. We have our answer, and it drives me to grab his uninjured hand and sever it completely right above the wrist joint. Blood pours out and gathers quickly on the tile.
“Shit.” Oops. I stand and turn to the table.
“I got it.” Dominic sighs, annoyed with me for cutting the doctor’s hand off. He steps forward with a towel to cover the bloody stump and a tourniquet to slow the bleeding.
I lean forward against the steel table and focus on taking deep breaths to bring my anger back under control before I snap his fucking neck.
“We need him alive,” Michael reprimands me as if reading my mind.
“I know that.”
“For now, at least. Get what you need and then kill him.”
Reminded of my goal, I feel the devil settle down before turning back around, composed and ready to continue.
“Who did you sell Lily to?” I ask, twirling my knife in my hand.
“I don’t know…it was some local guys,” Joe cries. “I swear. It was the first time I ever dealt with them, and I never saw them again.”
Sounds like teams were rotated to collect the “goods.” It’s sickening to think that we do the same in our various businesses, but it’s a common tactic. “And who did they work for?”
“I never saw their faces or talked to them personally.”
“I’m sure you heard something.” I slap his pale, damp cheek a few times. “Come on. Think, Joe. Use that doctor brain of yours.”
He groans deep from the radiating pain. I really shouldn’t have cut his hand off. But I loathe the man with a level of hatred I never thought possible. Maybe not as much as Xiao, but I still want to send him to the deepest pits of hell where he can spend his days tortured over and over by the devil himself. Until I arrive to continue at least.
“The Los...Renegados,” he whispers. “I swear…that’s all I know.”
I believe him. And we have what we need.
“What else does Rose like? Maybe a day away from Liam at like the spa or something?” Enzo asks, switching back to the earlier conversation since our time with the good doc is ending.
Michael snorts. “A day away from our son is the last thing she wants, but a spa day does sound nice.”
“What about you, Raphael? Are you going to get Lily and Mei something?” Dom asks.
My eyes roam over the dying doctor, and the devil on my shoulder whispers something dark and delicious in my ear.
“I think I have the perfect gift.”