Page 13 of Raphael

I failed Anya; I refused to fail Gabriel too.

ChapterSeven

RAPHAEL

My phone beeped.

A message from Alexei. I rarely spoke to him and now twice in the same day we exchanged messages. Earlier today, he asked for help locating a guy, Igor, who dared fuck with him and his FBI agent. Coincidently, the fucker had an estate in Florida and I was happy to help.

I wondered if he maybe needed help with clean-up because I had no doubt that Alexei killed the man. Probably sliced him to pieces while he was still alive so he’d hear his screams. There was something unhinged about Alexei; although I trusted the man with my life. He was the type to never break his word, regardless of the fact that we shared a non-blood related connection through Isabella Nikolaev, our mutual half-sister. The two of them shared a mother while the two of us shared a father.

I slid the message open and the words staring back at me sent a wave of shock through me.

*Look into Anya and Sailor McHale. One of them had a son. He’s your half-brother.*

The message was cryptic. Too cryptic for my liking.

I typed back.*What do you mean ‘one of them’?*

And seriously, another half-sibling? What. The. Fuck!

Bubbles appeared instantly.*He hurt Anya. Birth certificate shows Sailor McHale as the mother.*

Fucking clear as mud. I expected nothing less from the man who barely spoke.

Glancing at the clock, I noted the time. It was almost ten at night. The incoming breeze through the open balcony door caught the white muslin drapes, opening the view to the open ocean. I sat at my desk in my bedroom, enjoying the view.

I loved this island. I bought it before my older brother was killed, before I took over the Santos Cartel. Only the closest ones to me knew about the location. There were plenty of men who wanted me dead before I took over our family business. There were even more since. Both my father and my brother were really good at making enemies.

Even after I took over the Santos empire, I kept the cartel’s business and men separate from my own men. I ran the cartel business out of Miami. Everything else from here.

I rang my right hand man, Caine.

“Don’t you sleep, Santos,” he grumbled.

“Unlike you, I don’t share children’s bedtime habits.”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

I chuckled. “You first.”

“Okay, what do you want?”

“I need you to dig up information on Anya and Sailor McHale.”

“Who?” I could hear the surprise in his voice.

“The McHale family is very old and prominent in politics. They are as established as the Kennedys and rumored to eventually tie their power through a marriage alliance. You must have heard of them.”

“And why the fuck do I care?” Yeah, I wouldn’t have cared either if I hadn’t received information from Alexei. “I hate goddamn politics.”

I wasn’t much of a fan either, but at a young age, I had learned that connections were important. So I’ve learned early on to know everything about everyone that mattered. And the McHale’s mattered.

“The rumor is that my father had something going with one of the McHale girls,” I told him. “I need to know if the youngest McHale is my half-brother.”

A string of curses followed. “Jesus, your father really never learned how to wrap it up.”

He got that right. I wouldn’t be surprised if another half-sibling popped up out of the woodwork.