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“But?” I add when I sense there’s one coming.
“Adriano has lost a huge amount of men from his clientele list over the past few weeks. Some of them, as I suspected, were also on yours. And although we have no evidence to say Helen Scott was investigating you, we also don’t have any to suggest that she wasn’t.”
This is all too fucking much. Just when I’m starting to get my life on track, the C- I -mother-fuckin-A is the last thing I need poking around the business I’m trying to fold.
“And how do we know all this information?” I wonder out loud.
“I’ve had spies in your brother’s home for years.” Gioele reminds me. “That guy who was fucking Scott’s daughter, his father, worked for your brother too. Apparently, the Soul who killed your brother stepped right into his office before it happened and told him that he was going to end the agency.” Gioele looks almost impressed.
“What’s his name? The one who killed my brother?” I ask because, for some strange reason, I feel anger toward him.
“His name is Brax Marshall,” Gioele informs me. “I’m gathering as much information as I can about this club. We don’t need an unnecessary war at a time like this,” he points out the fucking obvious, but it does nothing to shimmer the rage inside me.
“You can leave now,” I dismiss him, opening my office door for him to exit.
“But Raphael, we need to sit and discuss this. This club could be more trouble than we gave them credit for. We already know they do business with Samuele. This could be the start of a mass takedown,” he warns
“Then I suggest you do what I pay you to do, Gioele, work a little harder to make sure that there isn’t anything left for them to take down.” I manage to snap my words out through a clamped-shut jaw.
“Well, maybe it’s time for you to stop playing happy families and start to realize what a fuck up your brothers left you in.” Gioele stands up from his chair and comes at me. “You’re in shock.” He lowers his tone but still looks equally pissed. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow when you’ve had the chance to take everything in.” He storms out.
Sitting down at my desk, I take some time to process my emotions. How can I feel upset about the fact my brother is dead? I detested him. I hated what he did. If anything, I should feel relieved that my secret is safe. But I don’t. I feel cheated. I was supposed to end him, not some self-assured member of a biker gang. My enemies will only see that as a weakness. But what shocks me most about Adriano’s death is that the burden of my secret seems so much heavier now that I am carrying it alone.
Adriano didn’t have a funeral. Or if he did, Raphael didn’t bother going to it. I still don’t know how he died. Rafe refuses to talk about him. But what I do know is that Rafe grieves for him.
He’s trying to hide his hurt from me and is doing his best to put on a brave face. I understand why he’s sad. Regardless of anything bad Liam could ever do, he’ll always be my flesh and blood. The thought of anything bad ever happening to him makes my heart break.
“Dress warm we’re leaving the house today.” Rafe catches me completely by surprise when he interrupts my thoughts. We’ve finished breakfast and have been sitting in silence for far too long.
“Going where?” I ask, starting to get excited. I haven’t left the house since the night of Maria’s party, and the prospect of a change of scenery is appealing.
“I remember promising to take you for a drive. There’s a nice viewpoint a few miles away. I could have Sylvia pack us a hamper.”
“I really like the sound of that.” Reaching across the table, I touch a kiss against his prickly jaw before I leave him to go and choose something to wear.
I’m spoiled for choice since Rafe insisted I order an entire wardrobe of clothes, and with the chill from winter still looming in the air, I go for a cute pink sweater and a pair of white leggings that stretch comfortably over my ever-expanding stomach.
When I head back downstairs, Rafe is standing waiting for me. He has his ass resting against the driver's door of his Ferrari, and when I step outside into the cool spring air, he smiles at me. He’s dressed in his version of casual, in tight jeans and a black shirt that’s undone enough for me to appreciate his chest. I can’t help thinking the sunshades he wears make him look like an Italian runway model.
“You gonna let me drive?” I smirk at him sarcastically.
As if a control freak like Raphael Verretti would ever allow something like that to happen.
“You drive?” He takes off his glasses and looks at me as if what I’ve just told him comes as a surprise.
“Of course, I drive. I’m an awesome driver.” I watch his eyes study me curiously, deciding if he should believe me or not.
“Do you have any idea how powerful this car is?” One of his eyebrows hooks up. He’s massively underestimating me.
“Let’s see.” I tilt my head and look at the car, trying to remember the name of the engine it’s packing. “An F136 twin turbo engine…” It comes to me, eventually. “780 horsepower. You could probably get her to reach 200.”
Rafe remains cool, slowly nodding his head, but I can see I’ve impressed him with my car knowledge.
My hands automatically react when he tosses something at me, and I stare in shock when I look down at them and see that he’s tossed me the keys.
“You push past 70, even on a straight, I’ll add another punishment to my list,” he warns, striding around the hood and getting into the passenger seat. I squeal with excitement as I open the driver’s door and slide in behind the wheel. Inside, the car still smells new, and I run my fingers over the dash and soak up the sheer luxury of it. If Liam could see me now, he would flip.
“So about this list…” I look at Rafe with a teasing smile as he leans over my body and pulls the safety belt around me. He takes extra care to ensure the bottom belt rests low and flat along my thighs instead of across my bump. Then after he’s clicked it into place, he does a quick safety check of the belt crossing my chest, nodding when we’re good to go.
