Chapter 9 Rafael
Rafael and Enzo,
My room was meant to be private, accessed by me alone. I’m not sure who made the mistake but clearly one was made.
Please provide a lock neither of you, nor anyone else in this house, have access to.
Lucy Sinclair, MD.
Alessi House Physician
I re-read her email for the hundredth time. Typing the response left me wholly unsatisfied. What I wanted to do was march up to her room, pin her against the fucking door and tell her plainly no mistake was made, especially not by me.
Her cute little demand rubs me the wrong way. The contract specifically stated private corridors; she has her fucking privacy. Nowhere did it state I would provide a room only she can access. I’m not a fucking idiota.
One thing was clear—that doctor of ours has some brass balls. I’ve never been spoken to in the way she speaks to me. Bold, polite, but with an undertone of defiance.
I adjust myself in my chair, trying with minimal results to tame my dick as it steadily grows harder each time I read her email.
A knock draws my attention, and I glance down to the real time video footage outside my door. Quintin waits outside, pressing the speaker, I usher him in.
He walks in, collected and controlled. Although physically we could not be more opposite, with his golden hair and fair skin, but mentally and emotionally, he matches me stride for stride.
He is currently my top choice to take over Angel Inc.
if anything were to happen to Enzo and me.
Since neither of us plan on having children, there could be no better person.
“Sir, we have word a woman matching Katya Romanova’s description was seen boarding a private jet. Our sources say it was destined for Seattle.”
“Seattle?” I ask. Could she be close? In our city?
Three years ago, she fled our home, covered in our mother’s blood. We have been hunting her since, but she’s difficult to pin down. Her kill count could rival my brother’s. But whereas Enzo is not shy about his…well, existence, the White Owl is illusive as ever.
We’ve been close; we were even in the same city as her once, but she continues to evade us and the longer she does, the more volatile Enzo becomes. He’s like a piece of fabric, slowly dissolving thread by thread and nothing I do has patched him back together.
The death of our mother was difficult on us both, but her and Enzo had a special relationship.
He was her baby; she was his idol. I had always envied my brother.
While I was dragged from meeting to meeting, city to city, to prepare for leadership and taking over as Don when our father died, Enzo stayed with Mother.
She taught him how to use his blades, how to cook their favorite Russian delights, even taught him to speak Russian.
The bastard is fluent in the language where I only know enough to hold simple conversations.
I loved Mother, she was and has been the only woman I have ever loved and for that, I desire revenge for her death as badly as my twin. The difference, however, is I have control over my emotions and their direct link to my behavior, whereas Enzo does not.
“The plane left two days ago, returned a few hours after landing,” he confirms.
“Do you know where Ilya Romanova is?” I hate the little flutter in my chest at the thought we could finally have her. We can lock down this city in a matter of hours. If she’s here, she would never get out.
“He remains in New York.”
The little flutter catapults into flames.
Fuck. If Ilya remains in New York, Katya will be as well.
According to what Mother told us, an Owl never separates from her brother longer than a day, two max.
Their primary objective is to protect and serve the future heir, occasionally taking an assignment away but never one that cannot be completed overnight.
It must have been someone else, but I will alert my men to keep their eye out and double security around the manor. “Thank you, Quintin.” I nod and he slips out, taking my hope with him.
Fuck, where could she be?
I don’t even have time to go back to the document I was reviewing when Enzo barges in, behind him, Doctor Sinclair strides confidently into the office.
“Good morning—”
“I want a new lock on my door.” She cuts me off, hand propped onto her hip and Enzo scratches at the back of his neck, his grimace begging me not to kill her yet due to her blatant disrespect.
My composure holds steadfast as I stand, buttoning my suit jacket and holding her stare.
My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of silencing her bratty fucking mouth.
I would love to see her spout disrespect with a cock shoved down her throat.
Rounding my desk, I drag my fingers along the recently oiled mahogany surface.
“As I told you previously, your request has been declined, Doctor Sinclair.”
It takes every molecule of my being to hold myself back, a feeling I haven’t experienced in quite some time, actually, since the White Owl took my mother, and I had the urgent need to chase her through the woods.
But this woman stands still. She is not running, which I strangely find even more alluring.
“You can’t decline my need for privacy, Mr. Alessi.” Her arms cross over her chest as she stands her ground. What a brave fucking woman.
“You have privacy, Doctor Sinclair. What you do not have is the ability to dictate where the fuck I go within my own house.” I step closer, trailing my eyes over her small frame, one I’d love to bend over my fucking desk and rail into submission.
Fuck, where did that thought come from? She’s wild, untamed; I can see it in her.
Spoiled little brat has had everything handed to her in this life.
“The contract states—”
“The contract states access to a private room, which you have. You could be housed at Cloud Nine, sharing a room with one of the whores, like you so eloquently called Nova yesterday.” I caress her pretty pink cheek and she jerks out of my touch, eliciting the slightest twitch to my lip, the closest thing I come to smiling.
“Now, which would you prefer, Doctor Sinclair?”
Her jaw tenses as she breathes in deep. I hear the subtle hiss through her nostrils, and her body trembles slightly. But not from fear. Despite her innocent doe eyes, this woman before me trembles with restrained rage.
My tongue runs over my teeth as I wait for her response. Will she continue to fight, or will she submit? The unknown simultaneously repulses and draws me closer because for the first time in my life, I’m not sure which response would make me happier.
“The room is acceptable,” she spits out.
Before I slam her into the fucking door and maul those pretty lips with my tongue, I step back. “Glad we could come to an agreement.”
I lean back against my desk, tucking my hands into my pockets and watch her anger dissipate, accepting what was inevitable. I wait patiently while Enzo stands in the corner, watching her as he picks under his fingernails with his knife.
Finally, after a few moments, her body relaxes, and her posture softens. “Can I ask why?”
“Why what?”
“Why can’t I have a room only I have access to?”
“Safety, Doctor. Enzo and I are the only ones beside yourself with access to your room. And neither of us would harm you—”
“Unless you asked nicely,” Enzo chimes in and I refuse to acknowledge the interruption, keeping my attention trained on the demanding little thing in front of me.
“Your space is yours; we will not come in uninvited unless necessary. But your safety in this house is non-negotiable.”
She seems to accept the explanation, her arms falling to her sides as she drags in a deep inhale. “Fine. I won’t mention it again if you hold true to what you’ve promised. You will not come in unless necessary."
“Or you’ve invited us in.” Enzo pipes up again. This time, I glance over to find him twirling his knife, chomping at the bit to be invited into her space.
“You have our word,” I say, nodding once. “Now, if you’ll please have a seat, I do have matters to discuss with you.”
She complies, lowering herself into the leather chair opposite my desk. Her legs cross at the ankles and she adjusts her dress, ensuring it covers her thighs fully. Enzo falls ungracefully into the seat beside her, relaxing back and extending his arms out, stretching them with a huff.
“I wanted to clarify your role within the house. The contract lists you as the house physician, tending to and treating any needs of the Alessi family and its subordinates. I want to be clear, the men and women of Cloud Nine are included in that description. In fact, I would like you to prioritize their care over any other duty you may have.”
“What is Cloud Nine?” she asks, a mask of confusion covering her soft features.
“Cloud Nine is the exclusive night club owned by the Alessis. It operates as a typical night club, but it is multifaceted, with one part being where our Angels work. These girls are special. They belong to us and should be treated no differently than you would treat one of us. In fact, treat them better.”
I pause, glancing at Enzo to see if he would like to add any remarks, but he remains silent, quietly observing the doctor, taking in all her micro expressions. He’s better at reading emotion than I ever was and often catches on faster than I do.
“Okay. Simple enough. Would you like me to see the Angels here in the house or is there somewhere else I should treat them?”
“Unless it can be avoided, they will remain at the club, and you will go to them. We will give you access to one of our vehicles. Clarabell runs the operations for us at the club. She’ll call or message you if any of the Angels need your services.
This is the only difference in what the contract states and what I expect from you.
Lastly, this amendment shall stay between those of us in this room. Dante will not hear of it, understood?”
She sits, contemplating a moment, allowing me to take in her appearance.
Dark hair wrapped in a neat bun at the base of her neck, porcelain skin and freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks as if someone took a paint brush filled with diluted gold and flicked it.
Her large, brown eyes are innocent until provoked, like a doe ready to flee.
Her lips are full and smart, a dangerous combination for my psyche.
Finally, she breaks the silence and the trance she held over me. “Did you have this same agreement with the previous physician?”
“I could not trust Doctor Arden with the Angels. I saw to their needs myself,” I answer, steepling my fingers under my chin, slightly irritated by her questioning. No one questions me. No one except Enzo and occasionally Nova. I command; they follow.
Simple. Clean.
“What makes you think you can trust me, Rafael? Why do you think I won’t run to Dante with this little secret?”
I bite at my lower lip, reining in the feral side of me she seems keen on pulling out.
“I know you’ll keep this between us, Doctor Sinclair, because, if necessary, I have access to where you sleep and not even your pretty little smile or those innocent brown eyes will keep me from protecting my own. ”
Where I intended to make her cower with fear, instead, her chin tilts up, her spine straightening.
Enzo stands, stepping in front of her chair and closing her in as he leans forward.
“You thought I was the crazy one, Little Doc? As you said, I’m just the hound.
” He snaps his teeth an inch from her face, lips snarling before chuckling and striding out of my office.
He leaves what’s left unsaid hanging in the air.
She fucked up thinking I was the nice twin.