Chapter 18
RAFAEL
Isit at the window, circling my finger around the rim of a whiskey glass. I’ve got fire in my blood, not just the same protective instincts telling me to keep my family safe. But the overwhelming urge to find Tony and tear him to pieces.
A traitor. In my family. Matteo, one of my men back home, is on speaker.
“We’ve searched his apartment,” he says. “Nico was a clean freak, not much to speak of. But we found a note in one of the drawers. An envelope with your name on it, boss.”
“And?” I demand.
“Nico says he was being blackmailed by Tony. Apparently, Tony got hold of photos of Nico’s ex-wife, said he’d send them to the kids’ school if Nico didn’t do what Tony wanted.”
I rub the bridge of my eyebrows, trying and failing to ease the tension there. “Blackmailed him for what?”
“To lie to you about a woman called Ava?” Matteo says.
“Hmm,” I grunt.
“To tell you she was dead.”
“Anything else?”
“No, boss.”
I hang up, then head downstairs to my car. I’m too restless to sit still. My men are scouring the city, searching for Tony, but I don’t know what to do with myself. This isn’t like other conflicts when there are targets to hit and plays to make. Tony has gone to ground, the bastard.
My cellphone rings as I’m aimlessly driving around the city. It’s Dante. When I answer, I hear grunting in the background. “Boss,” Dante says. “We might have a line on a Hungarian bar Tony’s been using as his base here.”
“How?” I say.
He’s been allying with the Hungarians. I suspected as much – it seems like he’s the asshole who sent those men after me last year when I was in Ava’s apartment, the asshole who made me leave her – but hearing it makes me livid.
“The phone in his motel room,” Dante tells me. “Had outgoing calls to a couple of Hungarian bars.”
“What’s the address?” I demand. “I’m coming to you.”
“Boss, it might be better—”
“Address, Dante.”
He gives me the details. I hang up and stomp on the gas. It makes sense that Dante wants to keep me away from the nitty gritty. Few dons get their hands bloody. But this is family. This is betrayal.
He blackmailed one of my men, made him lie, told me that the woman I fell in love with- I can acknowledge that now—was dead.
I pull up outside the bar, nodding to Dante and my men across the street. Dante climbs out of his car and walks over, leaning down to my window. “Want me to go in first?”
“No, wait here, all of you,” I tell him.
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Did I stutter?” I growl.
Dante inclines his head, his scar puckering around his lip, making him look like he’s smiling when he’s doing the opposite. “You got it.”
I climb out of the car and stride across the street. In my head, I hear myself telling Ava this won’t always be complicated, wondering if I’m lying.
The bar is quiet, with just a few people sitting at a corner table. Big, rough-looking, covered in tattoos. From the way they look up – like they’re shocked anyone would dare come here – I know they’re mafia.
I walk over, whistling softly. Four of them, one with a broken nose, another with tattoos all over his neck and face, the third tall and broad with a long neck. I guess the man who stands at the front is the leader, leather jacket, gold rings on all his fingers, cracking his knuckles.
“Rafael Bellini,” he says. “This is… unexpected.”
“I need information about my cousin and his association with your family.”
“And you came alone.”
I spread my hands. “With no gun. My men outside might take issue if they hear shooting through. If you’re going to come at me, it’ll have to be with fists.”
The man smirks. “And you like those odds?”
“That would be easy work,” I tell him, looking him dead in the eye.
His men exchange glances, no smiles, looking as if they think I’m crazy. Good.
“Do you know who I am?” the man asks.
I think for a moment. I’ve made a point of learning about the high-ranking Hungarians, but mainly, we just try to stay out of each other’s way when I’m here for business.
“Odon,” I say.
He nods. “You do your research.”
I say nothing.
“What is it you want to know?”
“Why the fuck would you back my cousin Tony in a bid against me. Did you really think that’d end well for you, that you’d stand a chance against all my men and me if it came to real war?”
The three men bristle, but Odon looks at me in genuine concern.
“No one is trying to start a war with the Bellini Family,” he says evenly.
I take a step forward, staring Odon in the eye. He’s a little taller than I am. It’s a strange feeling, looking up, even slightly. He swallows. His men bristle, and the one with the broken nose moves as if attempting to do something. But Odon waves a hand, and he settles down.
“Shall we sit?” Odon says.
Through gritted teeth, I say, “Sure.”
We go to a nearby table. Odon sits, drumming his fingers against the table. “Tony was using this bar, and others, to launder some of his money, business as usual,” Odon says, glancing around like a trapped animal.
This is what many people don’t understand about real power. I don’t even need a gun to make this bastard understand the danger he’s in. The danger they’re all in.
“How long?”
“About a year and a half.”
I rub my chin, thinking of the lie Nico told. Tony knew I’d trust Nico’s word. And he also knew that if I discovered Ava was pregnant, I’d come back here, perhaps stumble upon what he was doing.
“He hired your men to send after me last year.”
Odon holds his gold, flashy hands up. “Now, see, Mr. Bellini, that’s not as simple as you think it is.”
I lean forward. “Then make it simple.”
“He convinced a few of our men to go after you, filled their heads with ideas of glory. But the higher command didn’t know. The lieutenant didn’t know.”
I grunt out a laugh. Does he expect me to believe this crap?
“Where is Tony now?” I snarl.
“I swear, I don’t know. He just launders money here. That’s it. It’s a business arrangement, nothing more.”
“You might be telling me the truth, Odon,” I say. “You might.”
I stand, lay my fists against the table. He gestures frantically to his men when it looks like they might get up. I want them to. Don’t even care if my backup comes in here or not, just want the wild fury of a fight.
“Give me the names of the men he tricked,” I tell him.
“You can’t expect me to—”
“The names,” I cut in quietly. “Or I burn down this bar, and a real war starts. I only play nice because I don’t like conflict; it’s a waste of money. But those men were fools who listened to a fool, who also tricked you right. So cough them the fuck up. Now.”
A minute later, I walk out of the bar with a napkin scrawled with names. Dante is waiting anxiously, the big man shifting from foot to foot. I give him the napkin.
“Find these men.”
He nods. “Boss.”
When Ava answers her apartment door, I almost forget about all this chaos.
Fuck.
She’s wearing PJ shorts that hug her thick, perfect thighs. A tank top… with no bra. Is she trying to kill me? Her nipples poke through the material. I can see green veins disappearing into the fabric, outlining her fullness.
Her face is beautifully devastating, hurt, and happy to see me at the same time, somehow.
I step forward, meaning to hug her, but she whimpers and steps back.
“No more hugs?” I growl.
She clamps her lips closed. My heart tugs at her reaction. My dick surges with tension. I’m half animal, half lover.
“Where’s Theo?” I ask.
“Sleeping.”
“Can I see him?”
She stares at me wide-eyed, like she’s waiting for me to pounce. She has no idea what she does to me, that every time she looks at me, my body responds instantly. Ever since the moment I laid eyes on her that night.
“I don’t want to disturb him.”
“Just from the doorway, then.”
She nods and leads me through her apartment.
I need to try to remain calm. But what the fuck is the father of this woman’s child supposed to do when she turns around and shows him that round, sexy ass?
Squeezed into those shorts, her top riding up, a delicious strip of smooth, silky skin on display.
My fingers twitch as I think about pulling her again. My thoughts are only interrupted when I see Theo sleeping peacefully, his mobile casting planets against the ceiling.
In the living room, we sit on opposite sides of the couch.
“How is… everything?” she asks.
“My most trusted man, my best friend, is dead,” I sigh. “My cousin betrayed me. And now our worlds, angel, which are supposed to be entirely goddamn separate…”
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
“He was the one behind it,” I tell her. “The lie that you were dead. He tried to keep me away from you. And perhaps he was right.”
She gasps. “You think so?”
I look at her bleakly. “Bad things happen to innocent people all the time. Especially when bad men come into their lives. You were surviving, Ava. On your own.”
“You said things wouldn’t always be complicated,” she says softly.
I nod.
“But…” I bite down, scared to say it. A flush spreads across her cheeks and over her neck. Even her sheer biology threatens to make me feral.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly. “Whatever it is, you can say it.”
“Well, it implies I’ve agreed to a future where we try to uncomplicate things, you know? When I thought we were still at the dating stage.”
“I don’t think you understand.” I move up the couch, wrap one arm around her and let the other settle on her thigh. Goosebumps spread up her thigh as I settle my hand against her bare skin. “I can’t imagine a world where there’s not a future. With you and me. With our son.”
I crash my lips against hers in a hungry kiss. She responds, clawing onto my shirt, pulling herself closer like she wants to melt into me. I slide my hand down her body, spread it over the small of her back.
“Rafe,” she moans, leaning back slightly. “You have to slow down.”
“I know I should,” I admit, then kiss her again.
The noises she makes are tantalizing, a gorgeous mixture of conflict and hunger and need. She grabs my shirt so hard, her fingernails dig into my chest, then pushes herself away again. Only this time she’s not pulling away because she wants to stop.
“Rafe…”
“I… know…” My voice falters.
“What?” she murmurs.
“You’re, uh…” Oh, fuck. My shaft is so hard it’s painful.
She looks down, has the gall to look mortified when she sees the wet spots on her top.
“I’m sorry, this happens sometimes—”
“Don’t fucking apologize,” I growl. “Don’t you dare do that. That’s a sign your body is up to the task of being the best mother, Ava.”
She stares at me. Her flush like fire, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Don’t you dare,” I groan, leaning down, kissing her chest, going lower.
“Ruh-Rafe,” she whimpers.
“Say sorry for this,” I growl, biting her top and pulling it down. Revealing inch after mouthwatering inch of her breasts.
I pull her top down, wedging it under her leaking breasts. Her nipples glimmer with her milk. I kiss across her breast, moving toward her nipple eagerly, my cock a rock-hard rod of pure heat in my pants.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, voice shaking, tone something like awe.
“Tasting what’s mine,” I snap, taking her nipple in my mouth.
I slide my hand up her thigh at the same time—
Her cellphone explodes on the coffee table. She stands abruptly, her tits bouncing, milk flying from them. Pulling up her top, she grabs her phone. “It’s Mom.”
“Yeah, take it,” I say breathlessly.
She glares, but she’s smiling too. Her eyes sparkle with pleasure. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.” She answers. “Wait—Mom, slow down. The police?” A pause. “Shooting?”
“What’s going on?” I demand, jumping to my feet.
“There was a gun fight outside my parents’ house.”