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“You don’t have to stand there on guard. I’m sure you have something better to do,” I snap at him.
“No, Miss Riley.” He says the words through his teeth, his wide nostrils flaring in agitation.
“Maybe you should lie down and chill out yourself, enjoy the peace with me,” I suggest.
“I don’t chill out,” he tells me shortly, and I sigh loudly at his response, deciding I've spent far too long with just my own thoughts.
“Do you have family, Ricardo? A life outside of the orders Rafe gives you?” I ask, craving a conversation that I don’t have to decipher or worry about fucking up.
“I have a family,” he answers, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him.
“A wife, girlfriend… a lover?” I raise my eyebrows suggestively, and he snaps his head to look at me.
“I have no time for women. I find them intolerable.” He looks down his nose at me.
“So, you prefer men?” I shrug.
“That’s not what I said… stop twisting… Oh, forget it. You’ve had enough fresh air, Briga. I’m taking you back to your room.” He casts his huge body over mine, blocking my sun, and just as he’s about to reach down and pull me up, I remind him of something.
“I’m free to roam at my leisure. Those were the rules the last time I checked. Unless Raphael has changed them?” I challenge him, watching him snarl as he backs away and retakes his position.
I lie back down, only this time I allow myself to think about Rafe. How, whenever I’m near him, my heart beats a little faster, and a desire so desperate overtakes all my senses.
I wonder if he’s known suffering the way that me and Liam have, I get the sense that something inside him is broken. Power and control seem to be his only weapon of defense, and it almost makes me feel a little sad for him.
I’m ready to go back to my room but purposely hang on a little longer under the tree, purely just to piss off Ricardo. I want to ensure he’s suffered a heavy dose of boredom before I put him out of his misery. Then, making sure we take the rose-lined gravel path back to the house, I decide it's time Rafe was reminded of the beauty he has in his garden.
Gioele sits awkwardly on the weight bench with his briefcase, balanced on his knees. Usually, we hold our meetings in my office, but lately, the gym on the top floor of my home has become my sanctuary. I need to do something with all the tension constantly building up inside me. So today, we discuss business while I work that tension off.
The gym is positioned in the apex center of the house and looks out on both the garden and the driveway. When I designed the house, I requested that the front and back walls up here were made entirely of glass so I had a decent backdrop while I exercised.
“What’s new, Gioele?” I ask, turning up the resistance on the treadmill and keeping my eyes fixed on the spot where Riley has chosen to lie under a tree.
“You don’t need me to tell you that your finances are secure. But I’ve done the breakdown, anyway.” Gioele, efficient as always, holds up a spreadsheet before placing it on the bench beside him.
I hire Gioele because he’s the best. He was loyal to my father for many years before he died, and now he is loyal to me. I depend on him to take care of everything, from laundering my money to dealing with all my legal affairs. And he also keeps a solid ear to the ground.
“I’ll take a look later,” I assure him. My attention is currently fixed elsewhere. Ricardo looks pissed as hell, standing a respectful distance away from Riley while she relaxes on her back with the knee of one leg slightly raised. If I weren’t so far away, I’d see her lace panties from the angle she’s positioned herself in. Which makes me aware of the fact that if Ricardo wasn’t looking in the opposite direction, that's exactly what he would be seeing.
“The female CIA Agent is still investigating your brother. It’s only a matter of time before she closes in on him. My source tells me she’s putting together a list of his clients.” My feet continue to thud against the treadmill as I take in what he’s saying.
“Good.” I may not be able to shut my brother’s organization down myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it done. A good brother would have shared this information with him six months ago when I first learned about the case that Special Agent Helen Scott was building against him. But that would be aiding his crimes, and I want this Agent to get her job done efficiently.
I was fifteen when I discovered how my father made his fortune. He took me to work with him that day at an auction, and he explained to me how the trade worked.
The women would be taken or bought for a pittance and trained to please before being sold to the highest bidder.
Despite the immorality of it all, there was a code.
My father dealt with women but never children. Nothing underaged passed through his training program.
I stick to that code.
I often wonder what my father would think about Adriano if he was still with us. Maybe the business Adriano chooses to trade in was an intentional “fuck you” to our father for taking the younger son to work that day instead of him. But back then, Adriano didn’t have his head screwed on. He was too concerned with establishing a name for himself, making cheap dope slinger deals on street corners, and calling himself a gangster.
My father called him a liability. In my opinion, he still is. Just a very fucking rich one.
“Not all good, Raphael. There’s every chance that a few of your clients' names could be on that list too. Not everyone works by the same ‘moral code’ as you do.” Gioele air quotes the words moral code because, like myself, he knows there’s nothing moral about the legacy I took over from my father.
