Page 1 of Raphael

PROLOGUE

Raphael

My driver opened the door and I stepped out of the car. The moment my feet hit the pavement, I inhaled the humid Washington, D.C. air as I walked towards the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals on Madison Place.

Climbing up the stairs, I entered the large brick building through security and spotted her right away.

Sailor McHale.

I’d been trailing her for the past two weeks. The moment Alexei gave me the tip on Anya and Sailor McHale.

She was already there, putting her phone into the bin. I put mine in the bin behind hers. I wasn’t exactly a small man and usually women always glanced my way. Yet, this one never bothered to look in my direction. Either she was completely unaware of me or she just had a habit of keeping her head down and staying out of sight.

“Miss McHale,” the guard greeted her.

“Mr. Roberts, how nice to see you.” Her lips curved into a smile, reserved but still a pleasant one. “Has your wife had the baby yet?”

“Any day now,” he chuckled.

Tilting her head in goodbye, she grabbed her phone and continued on. She was in this building often. More than at home. Sailor McHale was the lead reporter on the whole clusterfuck with the Tijuana Cartel who happened to be rivals to my own. The idiots had been trying to expand their territory and poach D.C. and Maryland.

Nico Morrelli put a stop to that shit right away. Though he didn’t expect help from the most unlikely petite woman with long, blonde hair.

Turns out, Miss McHale had been following a high ranking member of the Tijuana Cartel and witnessed the killings and women trafficking in the Port of Washington. It was her evidence that put Santiago Tijuana, the fucking asshole, and others behind bars. It was only a matter of time before the members of the Tijuana Cartel made deals with the feds, ratting out their top boss. This woman became the prosecutor's main witness, and it was clear she wasn’t happy about it.

But that was the second reason I was here. There had been whispers that the cartel would be making a move to get rid of Miss McHale - no witness, no case. It was one of the oldest known facts in the world. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they made a move to eliminate her, but I couldn't allow that to happen.

Police and agents guarded her apartment building, her son’s school, and her place of work. Then there were the undercover agents that were always tailing her.

Much to my dismay.

It made it harder to bump into her. To talk to her.

I couldn’t repeat the mistake that I’d made with Bella. No assumptions this time around. There was too much at stake. Although, I did have men watching her too. Discreetly. If her son was indeed my half-brother, I’d be responsible for them.

I grabbed my own phone and left some space before I followed. She sauntered across the large lobby. One of the agents muttered something to her and her head whipped his way. Whatever he told her, it seemed to visibly agitate her and her step faltered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she hissed quietly.

I acted like all my attention was on the phone, while I eavesdropped.

“No, he was bailed out.”

“You fucking fools,” she mumbled. “What happened to no bail?”

They lowered their voices further, but I couldn’t risk getting closer and being caught. Not that hearing them mattered. I already knew what the conversation was about. Like the rest of us in the underworld, the Tijuanas had powerful people in their pocket. It wouldn't have taken much to slip money to the right people and get the judgment of 'no bail' changed to 'released on own recognizance'. The only surprising thing about all of it was that it took them as long as it did. So maybe they didn't have as many powerful people to grease the wheel for them in D.C. as I thought. Or maybe they had just as many working different angles.

“Just give me a minute,” she muttered, clearly still agitated. The two agents walked away from her but kept their eyes on her.

I started walking down the large, long hallway toward the courtroom where the hearing was designated to take place.

Just as I was passing her, she swayed and I swiftly caught her elbow. An abundance of smooth, long, silky blonde hair the color of freshly fallen snow, brushed over my sleeve.

“Fucking heels,” she muttered, gripping my sleeve.

Her soft body leaned into mine and the attraction was instant. Just like all those years ago. At least on my part. It took me all of two seconds to notice the generous curve of her breasts. Porcelain skin. Smooth cheekbones. Pink lips calling to me. And a sexy, determined look on her face.

Yes, she was beautiful. A blind man could see it. But it wasn’t about that. It was about the way her body fit against mine. A dusting of freckles on her face that I wanted to devour. The sweet primrose scent. Everything about her pulled at a string that I considered dead.