Page 56 of Raphael

It took everything in me not to shoot up and punch the woman in the face. Jesus, when did I become so violent? Still, the need to put her in her place made my hand shake with anger.

Maybe later. For now, I’d pretend I didn’t speak any Spanish.

To the world, I was the one that had the baby. So of course, she’d assume since I was Gabriel’s mother, that I slept with Raphael’s father. Either way, the insinuation didn’t sit well with me. Lombardo Santos raped Anya. Father had forced her, but Anya refused to tell me why. That secret died with her.

“Beatrice, choose your next word wisely or you won’t like what comes next,” Raphael said softly, but a hint of vehemence screamed through. Fuck, there was something sexy when he spoke in Spanish.

“She was your father’s and you hated your father,” she continued her ranting in Spanish.

I held my breath, waiting for Raphael to correct her. He didn’t.

Did Raphael really hate his father?I wondered.

I wouldn’t ask him now. There’d be time for that later, when we were alone.

“Have you worked here for a long time, Beatrice?” I asked, meeting her eyes and smiling sweetly. She wouldn’t know it was a fake smile, not unless she knew me.

“Yes.”

“You bang your boss?” I asked, keeping my voice measured.

I didn’t give a shit if she did or didn’t, but fuck if I’d let her degrade me. Or my sister. She didn’t know what Anya endured that night. Nobody did, except for Aurora, Willow, and me. We’d had front row seats to the fucked up show.

My eyes skimmed up the table to find Raphael’s gaze already on me. His expression sparked with dry amusement, but Beatrice fumed, a string of Spanish curses leaving her mouth.

“You going to let her talk to me that way?” Beatrice hissed, her eyes flashing with anger.

Raphael didn’t even spare her a glance.

”Caine will take you back to the mainland,” he spoke casually. “You’ll be compensated for the next six months.”

A sharp gasp sounded and I half expected her to grab her chest in theatrics. She didn’t. Instead, she took a large vase, ready to throw it at me when Raphael shot up and grabbed her wrist.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned, his voice deadly calm but venom coated each spoken word, giving me the glimpse of the ruthless mobster he was.

Before I could even blink my eyes, two guards showed up and escorted her out of the kitchen, then out of the home while her rapid Spanish words followed behind her.

Once we could no longer hear her, Raphael finally spoke up, “Now, let’s talk.”

I cocked my eyebrow. “And we couldn’t have talked before you dismissed your girlfriend?”

“Beatrice is not my girlfriend,” he explained calmly. “She never has been.”

I scoffed softly. “She might not have gotten that memo.”

He shrugged. “That’s her problem. Now let’s talk about our future.”

“There’s no ‘our’future,” I snickered. “So let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The look he gave me said something otherwise, but I didn’t care to evaluate it. Maybe he expected I’d call him out on it or maybe he’d thought I’d start ranting. I did neither. Anya taught me a long time ago that sometimes it was best to keep your opinions to yourself. Until you had the upper hand.

In this case, and with this man, I worried I’d never get the upper hand. After all, he was a criminal. The devil. Though the man was definitely suave and charismatic, I couldn’t forget what his father had done to Anya. What he had almost done tous- my best friends and me.

“Did you really hate your father?” I asked him, keeping my gaze on him.

His eyes darkened, something cruel and full of venom passed his gaze but it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

“He wasn’t my most favorite person.” A small admission, but something about it gave me hope.