25. Rafe
RAFE
For the first time since I hired her straight out of law school, Theodora looks rattled. She paces in front of my desk, a sheaf of papers tucked under her arm. “It was all right there. For years, he barely tried to hide it.”
I wait patiently for her to get to the point. “What did you find?”
“I trusted him. That was the problem. I knew better, and I did it anyway.”
“We all trusted him.”
“But it’s my fault.” She stops walking and slams the pages down on her chair. She lets out a frustrated laugh. “I worked with him all the time, you know? He’s your family’s accountant. We’d go over numbers together and I never bothered to check anything.”
“Why would you? Ignazio’s been controlling the Corvino books for decades.”
“That’s just it. That’s exactly what I should have been wary of. Someone with that much access, where they’re the single choke point, they always go off the rails. It’s classic.”
“I understand you’re upset, but I’m starting to wonder what set you off.”
“It’s the numbers.” She flips through the papers until she finds what she’s looking for. “They’re wrong.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shows me a spreadsheet, meticulously typed and highlighted. I follow the colors and she walks me through it, explaining how one column doesn’t add up to the other.
“Money’s missing.”
“I traced the amounts. Payments have been leaving Corvino accounts secretly for the past six years. Never the same number and never from the same location, but they always ended up in the same place.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell that yet. It’s some corporate dummy shell. But the point is, Ignazio was paying someone.” She sits heavily and leans back with a groan. “And I missed it from the start.”
The implication settles slowly.
I knew Ignazio wasn’t alone. Clearly, he’s got parts of my organization under his thumb. I’m still trying to work out who’s loyal and who isn’t, but that’ll come in time.
What bothers me is the timeline.
Six years. That’s a long stretch to plan a coup.
“It’s possible he was embezzling the money to himself,” I offer as an explanation.
She concedes with a weary wave of her hand. “There’s no way to say for sure.”
“But what if he wasn’t?” I sit with the question a moment as dread builds in my gut. “What if he’s been paying someone for six years?”
“What would he be paying them for?”
“Loyalty.”
“But who?”
I think of the photograph on my desk. Ignazio didn’t have access to my office that day. He didn’t leave the picture.
But someone sure as fuck did, and I still haven’t caught them.
Someone in my inner sanctum… someone close to me…
“You did good work. I have one more job before you can head back home.”
“What do you need?”
Silas is in the city working his charm offensive to keep the pharma deal from falling apart. Devlin’s sniffing around on his own. Cassian left his remote cabin once already—he’s not about to do it a second time.
“Kellan. As soon as possible. We have to go for a hunt.”
She nods grimly and stands. “I don’t want any details.” She pauses at the door. “But I hope you catch and flay him alive.”
When she’s gone, I sink back into my chair.
The Corvino family has been strong for years. I’ve worked hard to survive my father’s death and to grow our empire. There were more than a few moments I thought might be the end of us, but instead we pulled through and flourished into what we are today.
Buying the pharma distribution corporation is our chance to continue that growth. There’s only so much we can do in Philadelphia. But if we have access to a bigger supply chain and a larger network of providers…
It’s the next step up.
But that step will inevitably leave some people behind.
Which is why I understand Ignazio’s position. He’s acting in his own self interests. I can make sense of that.
But who would want to work with him? Some of the other older Capos?
How did they win any of the soldiers over to their side?
The fact that there has been a conspiracy under my own roof for six years fills me with rage.
There’s a soft knock at the door. I look over sharply, thinking it’s Theodora coming back for something, but instead June steps into the room. “Hey, Rafe. Do you have a second?”
Some of the tension in my stomach fades. “Always for you.”
She carries a cup of tea to my desk. I’m tempted to ask if there’s also a shot of whisky in there but hold my tongue. June hovers by my side, a child’s drawing under her arm.
“I was talking to Priya. I guess Hattie’s been doing well.”
“Good. That’s a relief.” I’ve been worried about my little daughter. It couldn’t have been easy what she went through. I still get shivers every time I picture my girl covering her ears to blot out the sound of gunfire.
I never wanted this life for her.
“But there’s this.” June places the drawing down in front of me. “I was debating whether I’d say anything, but?—“
It’s crude but I know Hattie’s style. June is on the far left of what looks like a ballroom and I’m on the far right. We’re separated by several unicorns and a pony with a jetpack.
“It’s nice. But I don’t see the issue.”
“There are a dozen of those.” June talks quietly, her concern emanating from her like warmth from a fire. “We’re like that in all of them. I asked her about it, and she said she thinks we hate each other.”
My eyebrows arch. “That’s perceptive.”
“Hattie’s a smart kid. She hides it, but she knows more about what’s going on around her than she lets on.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“I know you can’t do anything about it, but I was thinking—“ She sits down on the chair not covered by Theodora’s papers. “Maybe we could talk to her. I mean, together.”
I consider the idea for a moment before lightly pushing the drawing aside. I sip the tea and watch my wife, sitting back against my chair.
“What would we say?”
“I don’t know,” June admits, rubbing her hands together nervously. “But you and Hattie have a bond now. It’s pretty obvious.”
A warm, pleasant satisfaction settles in my chest. “I like to think that’s true.”
“It really is, and trust me, Hattie doesn’t take to adults like she did with you. It’s special.”
I try not to let her see how good that makes me feel. “She’s a special kid.”
“But she’s struggling. I think this is confusing for her, you know what I mean?”
“What would you have me do?” I spread my hands and lean toward her. “You do say you hate me, after all.”
Her cheeks turn crimson. It’s sexy and adorable the way she blushes so deeply. “I mean, maybe I don’t… hate you…”
“My word. Are you admitting your undying love for me right now?”
“No!” She glares at me. “Don’t make this difficult.”
I push myself to my feet. God, this has been a painful day, and I could use a distraction. “Go on, tell me more.”
“Rafe…” She trails off as I come around the desk. I sit on the edge facing her, one foot touching the floor still. Her eyes drift to my crotch, my thighs, to my shirt tugged tight across my chest. She clears her throat. “What are you doing?”
“I felt too formal behind that desk. A little too restricted. What were you saying about Hattie?”
“Oh, uh… Hattie…” She taps a finger against her lip. “Right, I was thinking we could say something to her together. Show a united front.”
“What would we say?”
“I don’t know. How you’re her father… I’m her mother…”
Her words die as I drop off the desk and kneel down in front of her. “Yes, go on.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get you to tell me this plan of yours.”
“You’re kneeling in front of me.”
“Hadn’t noticed.” I put my hands on her thighs. “Go ahead. Keep talking.”
Her mouth falls open, her face bright red. “I’m trying to say, we can tell her we don’t hate each other. That we both love her and want to take care of her and… and…” Her breath hitches as I lightly press her knees apart. “And what are you doing now?!”
“Nothing.” I lean forward, hands moving up her thighs to her hips. I tug her closer, my face pressed to her belly. “Nothing at all.”
“Rafe…” Her fingers glide through my hair. I think she’s going to push me away, but she doesn’t.
“You were saying you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t.”
“But you used to.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not even a little.” I kiss her belly and move up, breathing in her smell, burying my face in her breasts.
“Shit,” she whispers, and I hear her heart racing wildly. “This isn’t going the way I planned.”
“What did you picture?”
“I wanted to tell you we could do this together. We could parent her together. Because… because I don’t… I don’t hate you.”
“I don’t hate you either, baby.” I kiss the tops of her breasts, nibbling up to her collarbone. “I don’t hate you at all.”
“Then you’ll do it? With me?”
“I will absolutely do it with you.” I pause at her neck. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then let me clarify.” I lift my head to bite her lower lip.
“I will fuck you into a happy, messy submission. I will make you crawl on your knees to suck my big cock. I will make you scream my name, beg, choke, drool, spit, and come so hard you forget to breathe. I will shatter you like glass and build you back together again. Is that what you meant?”
“Uh,” she says, eyes wide. “Not really.”
I bury her mouth with mine. She doesn’t resist in the slightest as my tongue slides past her lips, her teeth, and I drink her down, tasting her and devouring her. She moans against me, arching her back as I tug her close.
Fuck, what is wrong with me? Giving in to my weakness now, of all times, when I have a traitor to catch, is a real fucking problem.
But I want her so badly it burns. It hurts, thinking about it. June underneath me, writhing, moaning, screaming my name as my cock tears her in half. June on all fours sucking my dick greedily, bouncing on top of me, tits shaking as she shudders and cries out. The taste of her, the smell of her.
God, it makes me so fucking hard.
But that’s not even what kills me.
No, it’s the idea of raising Hattie with her.
Of being a parent. Of becoming a real father.
And doing it by June’s side.