27. Raphael
Raphael
27
The overcast gray sky in Miami matches the somber tone of the event. It’s almost like Mother Nature is aware of the sad occasion and refuses to let the sun come out.
Today is the day we bury my cousin.
Dominic’s autopsy revealed that there really was nothing Lily could have done differently, or any doctor for that matter. His body was damaged beyond repair. A fact I’m confident Xiao knew. That is why, after he brutally tortured Dominic, he dumped him at our front gates like a broken toy no longer of any value.
It’s been three days since Dominic’s death, and Xiao has disappeared, leaving us all on edge. It feels like we’ve been left in the dark, and it’s unnerving.
The DiAngelo home has been on lockdown for three days now, and if Dad had his way, we’d continue, but I can see Lily is growing uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter how large the estate is or how often I assure her she is not a prisoner, her past lingers, and the feelings continue to haunt her.
It doesn’t help either that the lockdown includes Emilia. The girl is frustrating beyond compare and actively searches for any moment to corner me or catch Lily off guard enough to torment her. But my little Lily pad has thorns hidden beneath the surface. She doesn’t stand for Emilia’s mind games and gives it back ten times over, but like I said…it’s starting to weigh on her. Which means it’s weighing on me. And with how I’m feeling already from Dominic’s unaccounted for death, I’m close to tossing the damn girl in the ocean with a concrete block tied to her fucking ankle if she doesn’t leave us the hell alone.
Needless to say, after today is done, I’m taking Lily and Mei back to the penthouse. Dad can get upset all he wants, but Michael and Enzo feel the same way and are ready to leave.
A small raindrop lands on my forehead, and I silently curse as the priest continues his Bible readings. If he doesn’t hurry, we’re all going to be soaked.
“But the just man, though he die early, shall be at rest.
For the age that is honorable
comes not with the passing of time,
nor can it be measured in terms of years.
Rather, understanding is the hoary crown for men,
and an unsullied life, the attainment of old age.
He who pleased God was loved;
he who lived among sinners was transported–
Snatched away, lest wickedness pervert his mind
or deceit beguile his soul;
For the witchery of paltry things obscures what is right
and the whirl of desire transforms the innocent mind.
Having become perfect in a short while,
he reached the fullness of a long career;
for his soul was pleasing to the Lord,
therefore he sped him out of the midst of wickedness.
But the people saw and did not understand,
nor did they take this into account.
Because grace and mercy are with God’s holy ones,
and God’s care is with the elect.”
Close by, Aunt Mary, Dominic’s mom, cries behind her black veil. She flew in yesterday for the funeral and has been a mess since. Uncle Leo’s been no help either. In fact, I’ve barely seen the man, and when I do, he’s drunk off his ass. He hasn’t apologized to Lily yet, which has left me and the others extremely upset with my uncle. It doesn’t matter what the autopsy report says, he still believes his son’s death is her fault.
Seeing him standing next to his estranged wife is honestly a surprise. I half expected him to skip the funeral in favor of the bottom of a bottle. But there he is, swaying ever so slightly beside my father. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, probably to hide his bloodshot eyes from a combination of crying and no sleep.
Meanwhile, Dad stands rigid beside his younger brother as if he’s prepared to grab his arm at a moment’s hesitation. Gabriella and Mom stand behind Dad, the perfect examples of composure and grace.
Something Emilia is not. She didn’t even know Dominic yet came to the funeral for appearance’s sake. Enzo’s been playing referee all morning, keeping her from Michael and me. Because while the ocean idea is nice…so is a six-foot-deep empty grave, and the girl is tempting my patience. To top it off, she’s been sobbing next to my aunt, who is so lost in her grief, she simply latched on to the first person who offered her any resemblance of comfort.
My gaze roams over the intimate crowd and snags on Connor’s eyes. He gives me a small nod that I return, appreciating his support today. Ever since the events last month at the church with the previous Irish mob boss, his wife’s late father, Patrick O’Leary, relations between the Irish and Italians have been uneventful. Being the brother-in-law of Michael’s fiancée helps.
However, I wish I could say the same about the Russians. The Irish weren’t the only ones who lost someone that night in the church. Igor Mikailhov was shot and killed by Patrick. The current Bratva leader lost his younger brother, and he’s been grieving ever since.
He says he doesn’t blame the families for what happened. He claims his brother had gone crazy and lost his mind over a young girl. But as a brother myself, I know how strong that bond is. Even if Michael went borderline crazy like Igor had, I would still be angry over his death, with a need to take revenge on those responsible.
My eyes fall on Dimitri, the stoic Russian captain and the only leader in attendance, along with a handful of his men. It shouldn’t bother me that Sergei is absent, but it does. Grief or not, he should be here to show support. Had he chosen to do a public funeral for Igor, we would have shown our support, too. Another small thing that has me feeling on edge about the Bratva leader.
By the time we make it back to the DiAngelo estate for the wake, the sky opens up and cries the tears I’m unable to shed for my cousin. It’s not that I don’t want to or that I’m unable to. It’s just that…I can’t. There will be time to grieve after his death is avenged. Right now, that’s all I choose to focus on.
“I’ll go check on the girls and kids,” Enzo offers before the car even comes to a stop, and he’s gone before either Michael or I can halt him. We were blood with Dominic, but he was Enzo’s best friend. The grief he must be feeling right now is as terrible as we feel.
Enzo disappears, and I fight back the urge to follow. I’d enjoy nothing more than to be buried between Lily’s succulent thighs, worshipping her pussy until she forgets her name, and I forget the pain of the day. But that’ll have to wait, as much as I hate the idea.
“Hey.” Micheal nudges my shoulder. “Connor wants to talk to us.”
Curious about what the Irish leader has to say, I follow Michael to Dad’s office. It’s empty of the man himself since he’s conversing with those who came to pay their respects.
Connor stands beside the liquor cart, helping himself to a bottle. Normally, I’d make a witty remark, but the second person in the room grabs my attention instead.
“Dimitri?”
The dark-haired Russian turns from the bookcase he’d been inspecting, his blue eyes as sharp as the ice they resemble. Michael closes the door behind us and then directs his attention to the Russian. “How’s that eye of yours?”
Sure enough, if I look closely, the pale skin around his left eye is slightly bruised. Like a black eye healing.
“How’s the jaw?” Dimitri snaps back.
A couple of weeks ago, the pair got into an altercation at our club Sinners. I’m not sure what sparked the argument since I wasn’t there, but it escalated to a physical confrontation. Michael has remained quiet about the incident. And if Rose is aware, she’s not saying anything either.
“Will one of you finally explain what the hell happened between the two of you?” I demand, glancing back and forth between the men.
As far as I know, it had nothing to do with Gabriella. Following the incident at the hospital, Dimitri assured our dad that he really was only friends with our baby sister, and he has since kept his distance from Gabriella.
Still, I can’t shake the lingering feeling that something is going on between them or did at the very least. Both options make me uneasy. Because I don’t really know how I feel about the Russian. He’s quiet. Too quiet. And in my experience, quiet equals mysterious, which often leads to dangerous. And I don’t care about people or things I don’t understand.
“A simple misunderstanding,” Dimitri replies in his usual cryptic style.
Michael crosses his arms over his chest, leveling the Russian with an unamused look. “Yeah. A misunderstanding.”
Rolling my eyes with a hard sigh, I turn toward Connor. The blond Irish watches the exchange with intrigue. He must feel the same way I do. That they’re both fucking lying through their teeth.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask him before I put my brother in a headlock and force whatever bullshit he’s hiding free.
“Not me,” Connor admits. “Dimitri wanted to talk—”
“What?” Michael barks.
“—and he knew you wouldn’t agree to it if he had asked,” Connor finishes.
“He’s right,” Michael says.
The Russian closes his eyes slowly and his chest expands, like he’s trying hard to stay calm.
Connor sighs. “Will you just listen to him, please?”
Michael meets my eyes, and I give him an exasperated look. I’m done with today and just want to spend the rest of it with Lily.
Grumbling under his breath, Michael leans against a bookcase and nods begrudgingly.
“I’ve noticed something strange happening in our sex clubs the past few weeks. People have been disappearing,” Dimitri explains.
“There’s nothing strange about that, Dimitri,” Michael points out. “Your line of business doesn’t really scream long-term career.”
“True. But it’s not just the employees. It’s the patrons too.”
I frown. Now, that’s not normal. As different as the Russian sex clubs are, they’re still considered safe for those who enter their dens of inequity. The employees are there by choice and not force. “Are you sure?”
Dimitri nods. “Yes. Whoever it is, they’re only taking a few at a time. And I’ve identified a pattern. They usually look physically the same. All brunettes one time, and then all blonds the next.”
“And you think they’re being kidnapped?” Connor guesses.
“It’s not a wild guess to assume so,” Dimitri says. “Because they literally disappear, fall off the earth. No sign of them anywhere.”
“Have you told Sergei?”
Dimitri’s dark expression tells me he has, and it didn’t go well. “He knows, but he doesn’t believe me.”
“Then why should we believe you?” Michael asks in an accusing tone.
Dimitri snaps his piercing blue gaze on my older brother. “Because I believe they’re being kidnapped to be trafficked into the same ring responsible for Rose and Lily.”