grew thin. “Because, Rafael, there are dozens of photographs and no, I have yet to see them.”
“Of the murders at the restaurant?”
“This goes way beyond the recent murders that were committed in A Coruna.”
“Then what the hell are we talking about?”
“The indictments brought against you last night were just the beginning. From what little I’ve heard so far, there is enough information on your criminal activities involving the Barcelona, Valencia, and Bilbao ports to send you away for a long time.”
I clenched my fist, fighting my violent urges. “And my family, any of my enforcers?”
There was another hesitation, one I refused to tolerate.
“Tell me!” I demanded.
When he spoke, his voice was strained, the words obviously difficult for him to say.
Exhaling, I took in the information, easing down into the chair.
“Did you hear what I said?” Felipe asked in what seemed like a faraway voice.
“Yes, I did and thank you. I’ll be in touch.” I merely tossed the phone across the small desk and swiveled in the chair to stare out the window toward the ocean water. Loyalty. As my father had told me from the early on, loyalty meant everything to our family. Without it there would be chaos, the inability to run the various businesses without the constant fear of smaller fish attempting to move up the ranks.
Should the worry have been coming from the top down?
I took a few minutes, sitting quietly and staring out the window. Then I eased my SIG from the holster, rubbing my thumb up and down the barrel. I was no longer angry, just sad from the implications of what would be a difficult decision, but one that was necessary in order to preserve the family.
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward the window, a calm settling in. I would need to quiet the demons in order to complete the task.
After all, it wasn’t every day that a man was required to assassinate someone they believed they could trust.
Chapter Fourteen
Savannah
Fear.
As I sat huddled on the deck, I thought of my favorite quote regarding the wretched feeling.
“Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”
The words were truer now than ever before given fear had taken hold of my mind and soul, as well as my heart. I’d fallen into pits of darkness, allowing terror to take over my life prior to leaving the states and going away on a whim. The blindness of believing that I could leave my past behind, shoving the anxiety aside had been childish. There was no running from the deep and almost violent emotion.
However, the near panic I’d felt before was nothing compared to the ravaging emotions rushing through every cell and muscle in my body. The reason why was almost sad.
Rafael.
I’d fallen hard for the brusque and ruthless man, which I was unable to make any sense out of. As my mother would say, I’d fallen from the frying pan into the fire. I could use all the cute sayings in the world, but I couldn’t right this in my mind.
I sat in the corner of the small deck, able to see miles of beautiful ocean with absolutely no one else around. The house itself was nothing special, merely a few rooms with a gorgeous view, but in truth, I could be happy here.
If I had someone by my side.
That wasn’t going to happen, at least not with Rafael. I’d come to terms with who and what he was, even though I’d heard only a fraction of what had to be thousands of stories. He would never let me in, sharing any aspect of his business.
Or his life.
And I was the idiot girl to still want him to.
I tensed the moment I heard the door, anticipating some form of punishment or demand, maybe a gun waving from fear of being attacked. When he walked onto the deck in an untucked tee shirt and jeans, his feet bare, I was thrown back into the very moment I’d seen him on stage. He was exceptionally gorgeous, his features captivating from any woman’s standards, but today, he seemed even more so. The now four-day stubble suited him entirely too much, adding to the hungry artist look. I bit back a laugh at the thought.
The man likely had more money than God. Then again, money didn’t buy happiness.
“What kind of art does your aunt sell?” Rafael asked the question so casually that I had to think about it.
“Erotic paintings.” I pulled the glass of wine