Chapter 4 - Annie
I wait until I hear the office door click shut before I let out the breath I've been holding. My hands tremble slightly as I continue wiping down the already clean countertop.
Those men. Dear God.
When Raphael walked in with them, it took everything I had not to visibly react.
The taller one radiated menace, his cold eyes assessing me like I was a potential threat.
But it was the other man, Dante, who truly terrified me.
Something about him spoke of absolute power, of a man accustomed to being obeyed without question.
And the way they all looked at each other, the silent communication that passed between them... it reminded me so much of Dad and his undercover colleagues that my stomach twisted into knots.
"Get a grip, Annie," I whisper to myself, wringing out the dishcloth with more force than necessary. "This is just a job."
But it isn't just a job, is it? Not when Raphael comes home near midnight with two dangerous-looking men. Not when I notice the slight discoloration on his knuckles, as if he'd recently washed blood from them. Not when all three men subtly checked me for signs that I might be a liability.
I move quietly around the kitchen, putting away the last of the clean dishes.
Marco's dinosaur plate goes in the lower cabinet where he can reach it himself.
I've already learned he likes his independence.
The leftovers get covered and placed in the refrigerator.
All normal, domestic tasks that feel surreal given what I suspect is happening behind that office door.
Once the kitchen is spotless, I have no more excuses to linger. I should go to the guest room as I said I would, but curiosity pulls me down the hallway toward Raphael's office. The door is solid wood, making it impossible to hear anything beyond the low murmur of male voices.
I stand there for a moment, my heart pounding. Dad would be so disappointed in me right now. He always stressed the importance of minding my own business when it came to his work. "The less you know, the safer you are," he'd say.
But Dad is gone, and I'm here in this beautiful house with its dangerous secrets, drawn to a man I've known for less than 48 hours. A man who clearly lives in a world I don't understand.
A soft sound from Marco's room pulls me from my thoughts. I quietly pad down the hallway and peek in. He's still asleep, his dark curls splayed across the pillow. The nightlight casts dinosaur-shaped shadows across his bedroom walls.
Earlier tonight, he'd woken up crying for his mother. While comforting him, I'd gently asked where his mom was.
"She went away," he'd said simply, his little face serious. "Daddy says she couldn't handle our life. But Daddy never leaves me. Never ever."
The absolute faith in his voice had made my heart ache. Whatever Raphael does, whatever dangers surround this family, his love for his son is undeniable.
I adjust Marco's blanket, smiling as he clutches his T-Rex stuffed animal tighter. Then I quietly close his door and head to the guest room.
It's a beautiful space. Simple but elegant with a queen-sized bed and an attached bathroom.
Raphael showed it to me yesterday, mentioning that I could leave some clothes and toiletries here for overnight stays.
Now I'm glad I took him up on the offer, unpacking my small overnight bag earlier this evening.
After changing into sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, I sit on the bed, pulling my phone from the charger to check messages. Mom has texted to make sure I'm okay, and I quickly respond to reassure her.
*All good. Staying overnight. Marco's adorable.*
I hesitate, then add: *The job seems good so far. Mr. Conti is... professional.*
It's not a lie, exactly. Raphael has been nothing but appropriate with me, despite the electricity I feel whenever he's near.
The attraction is entirely one-sided, I'm sure.
A man like him, with his experience and position—whatever that position actually is—wouldn't look twice at a naive 21-year-old college student.
A soft knock on the door makes me jump. I quickly check that my clothes are decent before calling, "Come in."
I expect Raphael, but it's Dante who opens the door, his expression a total mystery. Up close, he's even more intimidating, though objectively handsome with his sharp features and expensive suit.
"Ms. Harper," he says, his voice smooth and cultured. "May I have a word?"
My mouth goes dry, but I nod, standing to face him. I'm suddenly very aware of my bare legs and messy hair. "Of course, Mr...?"
"Veneziano," he supplies. "Dante Veneziano."
The name registers somewhere in my memory.
Veneziano Imports? I've seen their logo on wine bottles and specialty food products. It's a legitimate business, as far as I know, but there’s something else I can’t quite remember.
And besides… The man standing before me exudes authority that goes beyond importing Italian cheeses.
"I won't take much of your time," he says, remaining near the doorway. "I simply wanted to meet the person caring for Marco properly. Raphael speaks highly of you."
"I've only been working here one day," I point out, surprised.
A slight smile touches his lips. "Raphael doesn't impress easily." His eyes study me, missing nothing. "Your father was in law enforcement, I understand?"
The question feels like a test. "Yes," I answer. "He died three years ago."
"I'm sorry for your loss." His tone seems genuinely sympathetic. "What division did he work in?"
Another test. "He was undercover narcotics," I say, deciding honesty is my best approach. "I didn't know details. None of us did."
Dante nods, as if I've confirmed something for him. "And now you're in college? Studying history, Raphael mentioned?"
"Yes. Sophomore year."
"Expensive college?”
I lift my chin slightly. "I have scholarships. And jobs. Like this one."
Something that might be approval flickers across his face. "Marco is important to all of us, Ms. Harper. His safety and happiness are paramount."
"I agree completely," I say, meeting his gaze directly despite the intimidation I feel. "He's a wonderful boy."
"And his father?" Dante asks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "What do you make of Raphael?"
The question catches me off guard. What game is he playing? "He's... a devoted father," I say. "And seems like a good employer."
"Nothing more?"
Heat rises to my cheeks. "I've known him for one day, Mr. Veneziano. I'm here to care for his son, not to form personal opinions about him."
"Good answer, Ms. Harper. I think you'll do well here."
Before I can respond, another figure appears in the doorway behind Dante. Franco, the giant of a man who had looked at me with such suspicion earlier.
"Dante," he says simply, his deep voice rumbling. "We need to finish up."
Dante nods. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Harper. I'm sure we'll see each other again."
They both leave, closing the door behind them. I sink back onto the bed, my heart racing. What was that about? Was I just interviewed, or vetted, by what I'm increasingly certain is some kind of mafia boss?
I run my hands through my hair, trying to process the interaction. The way Dante spoke, his questions, the assessment in his eyes... it was like being interrogated by a more sophisticated version of my father's police captain.
And his question about Raphael. *Nothing more?* As if he could see the inappropriate attraction I've been trying to suppress since the moment I saw Raphael standing shirtless in his doorway this morning.
My phone buzzes with a text from Mom: *Don't stay up too late. Love you.*
I smile despite my racing thoughts. *Love you too. Sleep well.*
Setting my phone aside, I move to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I'm finishing up, I hear the distant sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by muffled goodbyes. Dante and Franco must be leaving.
I hesitate, unsure whether I should stay in my room or check if Raphael needs anything before I go to sleep. Before I can decide, another soft knock sounds on my door.
"Annie?" Raphael's deep voice comes through the wood. "You still awake?"
My heart jumps to my throat. "Yes," I call back, quickly checking my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes look too bright. I look exactly like what I am—a girl with a crush on her impossibly attractive employer.
When I open the door, Raphael stands there looking tired but still unfairly handsome. He's removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie, and there's a tension around his eyes that wasn't there this morning.
"I wanted to apologize," he says, keeping a respectful distance. "I should have warned you I'd be bringing colleagues back tonight."
"It's fine," I assure him. "I hope the pizza was okay."
A small smile touches his lips. "It was perfect. Marco insisted on making mine with extra pepperoni, I see."
"He said it's your favorite."
"He's right." Raphael hesitates, then asks, "Did Dante speak with you?"
"Briefly," I nod. "He seems... concerned about Marco's welfare."
"Dante is Marco's godfather," Raphael explains. "He takes the role very seriously."
That explains some things, but not the subtle threat assessment I'd felt during our conversation. Not the way all three men carry themselves like people accustomed to violence.
"I understand," I say, though I'm not sure I do. "Family is important."