by Pamela Yaye
Light bulbs went off in Rafael’s head. His instincts had been wrong. Gracie and her ex-con brother weren’t responsible for the vandalism of Dolce Vita Miami, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel or the brazen arson attack at Jariah’s condominium complex. Tye was.
Rafael’s fear escalated. He took a deep breath and with great effort squelched the panic rising inside him. Shocked and appalled by the hateful words coming out of Tye’s mouth, Rafael considered the best course of action. He had a minute, maybe two, before Demetri came into the house in search of his beer and his brothers, but Rafael had even bigger things to worry about. Angela, Jariah and Paris were out shopping at Aventura Mall and would be back home any minute. But what would happen if his parents arrived first? Rafael shuddered at the thought. His father disliked Tye, always had, and the feeling was definitely mutual.
“You couldn’t stand to see me succeed,” Tye snarled. “That’s why you forced me out of Dolce Vita. You were jealous because the spotlight was finally shining on me.”
“I fired you because you embezzled money from our business and set me up to take the fall.”
“Shut up! Just shut the hell up!”
Rafael inched down the hall and peeked inside the bright, spacious wine cellar. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He was hallucinating, had to be. Rafael rubbed his eyes and shook his head but the terrifying image still remained. Tye was pointing a black Beretta pistol at Nicco’s chest, and his eyes were dark with rage.
Guilt troubled Rafael’s conscience. This is all my fault! The guy who’d bumped into him near his uncle’s jewelry store was Tye Caldwell, and if Rafael had remembered to call his security team Tye would be in jail, not pointing a gun at Nicco.
In that moment, Rafael realized just how precious life was and decided that if he survived this ordeal he would propose to Paris sooner rather than later. He couldn’t wait three weeks for her thirty-sixth birthday. He had her diamond engagement ring hidden in the secret compartment of his briefcase, and he’d memorized his speech weeks ago. He was ready to pop the question and couldn’t think of anything better than— The thought froze in his mind and his mouth dried.
“You’d be nothing without me!” Tye raged, his tone thick with hate. “Dolce Vita was my brainchild, not yours. I poured my sweat, blood and tears into the business.”
Rafael glanced around, searched for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but came up empty. He had to act now. Couldn’t risk putting the people he loved in harm’s way.
I don’t need a weapon, I have the element of surprise on my side, he reasoned. Eyes narrowed in determination, hands balled into fists, he burst into the room and lunged at Tye. Rafael knocked him to the ground, and the gun went off. Bullets ricocheted around the room, blasted off the walls and shelves. Wine bottles shattered into a million pieces, oil paintings crashed to the floor, and the stench of gun powder polluted the air.
Anger and rage infected every inch of his body. Rafael punched Tye in the face, throwing so many blows he lost count. His hands throbbed in pain, but he didn’t stop. He had to protect his family, had to save the people he loved most, no matter what.
“Bro, stop, that’s enough!” Nicco grabbed Rafael’s forearm and pulled him off Tye. “Damn, you knocked him out cold with one punch.”
“He got what he deserved.” Disgusted, Rafael stared down at Tye. He was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. His eye was swollen shut, his mouth was bloody and his white polo shirt was ripped. Broken glass littered the floor, wine flowed like the Red Sea and the air smelled sweet. “No one messes with my family and gets away with it.”
“You saved my life.”
“Of course I did. That’s my job. I’m your big brother.”
“When you burst into the room, I thought I was dreaming!” Nicco confessed with a chuckle. “When did you become such a badass?”
Rafael knew his brother was trying to make light of the situation, but he saw the pain in his eyes, heard the strain in his voice. He lobbed an arm around his hunched shoulders to let him know everything was going to be okay. Rafael heard police sirens wailing and knew help was on the way. Demetri must have heard the gunshots and called the police.
Expelling a deep breath didn’t calm Rafael’s nerves, didn’t erase the violent images in his mind. His clothes were torn and bloody, but the nightmare was finally over. Everything he held dear was still safe and secure, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter 22
Rafael wasn’t kidding when he said his extended family was large and boisterous, Paris thought, glancing around the dining room at Dolce Vita Miami. She’d never seen so many tall, dark and handsome men in one place, and marveled at how attractive Rafael’s cousins were.
The past twenty-four hours were a blur, the scariest of her life, and as she stood at the bar listening to Jariah and Angela discuss the bridal showcase they’d attended weeks earlier, Paris found her thoughts wandering. I can’t believe Rafael took on a crazed gunman by himself. What was he thinking?
She raised her cocktail glass to her lips and sipped her Shirley Temple. Yesterday, after a fun-filled day of shopping with Jariah and Angela, she’d returned to Nicco’s Coral Gables home to find police cruisers, ambulances and news trucks parked in the driveway. Minutes later in the kitchen, Rafael and Nicco had recounted their terrifying ordeal with Tye Caldwell.
Mr. and Mrs. Morretti had arrived a little past noon, and after several rounds of hugs and kisses, they’d decided to release a statement to the press. Since there was significant damage to the second floor of the estate, Mr. Morretti had called his nephew, Realtor to the stars Dante Morretti, and arranged to rent a six-bedroom waterfront mansion for the rest of the month.
“Paris, are you okay?” Jariah asked, squeezing her forearm. “You look upset.”
“I’m fine. Just overwhelmed by everything that happened yesterday.”
Angela wore a sympathetic smile. “That’s understandable. The past twenty-four hours have been incredibly stressful, and the media attention on Rafael has been insane.”
You can say that again, she thought, expelling a deep breath. For the second time in weeks, Rafael had ended up on the front of the local newspapers. The headlines flashed in her mind, one after another. Shipping Heir Saves the Day! Morretti Family Under Attack! Gun Shootout in Coral Gables! The media was intrusive and unwelcomed. Ever since the story broke the paparazzi had been camped out at Nicco’s estate. Armed bodyguards built like WWE wrestlers were stationed at the entrance of Dolce Vita. Several undercover police officers were among the crowd. Arturo didn’t want anyone to ruin Nicco’s birthday celebration and had taken every measure to ensure his family was safe.
“Try not to worry,” Angela advised. “Things will blow over in the next couple days, and the media will move on to the next big story. They always do.”
Paris glanced around the room in search of Rafael, but couldn’t find him anywhere. She was still shaken up over the incident, but she put on a brave face. She didn’t want to ruin the festive mood, but couldn’t help feeling alone and neglected. She hadn’t had a second alone with Rafael since his mother had burst into the kitchen frantically calling his name. Paris couldn’t help but wonder if Mrs. Morretti was purposely trying to keep them apart.
She shook off the thought. You’re being silly, she told herself. She had nothing to worry about, no reason to feel insecure. Later, when she was alone with Rafael, she’d share her exciting news. A smile warmed her lips. She was one step closer to opening her beauty salon, and the life she’d always dreamed of was finally within her grasp. Relocating to Washington was a big step, but Paris knew that it was the right decision. I wonder what Rafael will say when I tell him I’m—
“Paris, darling, may I have a word with you in private?”
Before she could respond, Mrs. Morretti took he
r arm and led her through the dining room. Streamers, helium balloons and ribbons hung from the ceiling. The black-and-white decor looked sharp against the colorful birthday banners. Paris heard noisemakers ring out and smiled to herself when Rafael’s favorite Rod Stewart song filled the air. Tantalizing aromas wafted out of the open kitchen, and her mouth watered when a waiter rushed by carrying a silver tray topped with decadent chocolate desserts.
“Because of everything that happened yesterday we haven’t had much time to talk.”
Nodding, she smiled politely at Vivica Morretti, who was dressed in an ivory floor-length gown. Her glowing, caramel-brown skin was flawless and free of wrinkles.
“What are your intentions with my son?”
Paris felt her mouth sag open, and slammed it shut. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Ms. St. Clair.” Her tone was as calm as a hypnotist’s, but anger blazed in her dark brown eyes. “I want to know exactly what’s going on between you and my son. Are you friends with benefits, sex buddies or a true couple?”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Morretti, our relationship is none of your business.”
“You’re wrong,” she argued, propping a hand on her wide, full hip. “Your relationship with my son is my business. Rafael’s my firstborn, and I won’t let you or that Cicely woman play games with his heart.”
“I’m nothing like that conniving gold digger—” Paris broke off when she realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that.”
To her surprise, Mrs. Morretti smiled, and her face brightened.
“Don’t be,” she said with a wink. “I was thinking the exact same thing!”
They both laughed, and the tension in the air lifted.
“Your son means the world to me, and I’d never do anything to hurt him.” Spotting Rafael on the stage, Paris felt a heady rush of adrenaline and desire. He looked drop-dead sexy in his crisp, sky-blue shirt and white dress pants, and when their eyes met through the crowd her heart did the rumba in her chest. “Rafael is an incredible person, and I’m glad we reunited in Venice, because he’s truly one in a million.”
Mrs. Morretti dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips. “I was hoping you’d say that. My son adores you, and I’m glad you feel the same way.”
“I do. I’ve loved Rafael since I was nineteen years old, and I always will.”
“Welcome to the Morretti family!” Vivica threw her arms around Paris and squeezed tightly. “I think you’re going to make a wonderful addition to our family, and I’m thrilled that my son found love with a strong woman just like his mama!”
“That’s it?” Paris joked. “I was worried you were going to grill me for hours.”
Vivica laughed and flapped a bejeweled hand in the air. “There’s no need. I’ve already done three background checks on you, and you passed with flying colors!”
Rafael wasn’t kidding about his mom being a gutsy spitfire, Paris thought, laughing.
A hush fell over the dining room, and the music faded to the background.
“At this time, I’d like to call my beautiful girlfriend, Paris St. Clair, to the stage.”
Paris glanced over her shoulder, and gave Rafael a questioning look. What’s going on? Why is he calling me to the stage? she wondered, resting her empty glass on the buffet table and smoothing a hand over the front of her purple, one-shoulder dress.
Paris felt hands pushing her forward, toward the small, raised stage, and laughed when Rafael’s father, Arturo, appeared at her side and hustled her through the dining room. Deciding to play the role of dutiful girlfriend, she climbed the stairs and took the arm Rafael offered.
“I asked Paris to join me because I have a special announcement to make....” he said.
Me, too, she thought, concealing a smile. And I have a feeling you’re going to be thrilled! It’s the most wonderful surprise ever, and I can’t wait to share my good news!
“The first time I saw you at the U of W cafeteria, I knew you were the only woman for me.” Rafael gripped the microphone with one hand and caressed her cheek with the other. “I let you get away fifteen years ago, but I won’t let it happen again. Reuniting with you in Venice was an act of divine intervention, and I feel fortunate to be given a second chance at true love....”
Paris heard a gasp fall from her mouth. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and the room spun around her. She watched Rafael drop to one knee, and goose bumps pricked her clammy skin. Unspeakable joy consumed her, flowed like a river through her heart and soul. Rafael was her one true love, and the only man who’d ever really accepted her. He encouraged her to be herself, cheered her accomplishments and proved his unconditional love and support every single day.
“I love you, angel eyes, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Rafael reached into his pocket, took out a massive, diamond-encrusted ring and held it at the base of the fourth finger on her left hand. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes! Of course! Just say when!” Paris shouted, unable to contain her excitement. They shared a sweet kiss, one that made her heart sing. Her gaze fell to the canary-yellow, oval-shaped stunner on her left hand, and Paris decided it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen. “I love my engagement ring, Rafael but I love you even more.”
Cheers, applause and whistles rose from the crowd. Light bulbs flashed, noisemakers rang out and the dimly lit dining room became boisterous and festive.
“I love you, baby. Thanks for making me the happiest man alive.”
“You’re welcome, and thanks for the gigantic rock!” she joked, admiring her ring.
Holding her tight, he peppered her face with kisses and tenderly stroked her hips. “We better stop before your father comes up here and beats me to a pulp. He gave me his blessing this afternoon when I met him for drinks at his hotel, but I don’t want to get on his bad side...”
Rafael’s words confused her, but in the crowd, just a few feet away, she spotted her family. Her dad smiled, Oliver winked and Kennedy burst into tears. Her brother-in-law flashed a thumbs-up, and Paris laughed when her nieces and nephews cheered and waved frantically. Cassandra and Stefano were standing behind her father, and seeing her best friend made Paris squeal for joy. All the people she loved and adored were in the same room, and she had her sexy new fiancé to thank. “I can’t believe this,” she gushed, blown away for the second time in minutes. “How did you pull this off without me knowing?”
Rafael pressed a finger to his lips. “I’ll never tell.”
Oh, really, she thought, hiding a smirk. Two can play that game!
“Can I have this dance?”
Basking in the glow of his love, Paris snuggled against Rafael and swayed to the beat of the soulful D’Angelo song playing in the background. Congratulations, well-wishes and cheers rang out around the dining room as guests returned to their respective tables, but Paris only had eyes for Rafael.
She tightened her hold around his waist. She felt so warm and content in his strong arms that she didn’t ever want to leave. “How do you feel about a spring wedding?” she asked, nuzzling her face against his and inhaling his rich, dreamy scent. “Spring has always been my favorite time of year, and I’d love to get married right here in Miami.”
Rafael raised an eyebrow. “You want to get married this spring?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, fervently nodding her head. “How does April 5 sound?”
“That’s less than two months away.”
“I know, but we don’t have much time.”
He frowned. “We don’t have much time for what?”
“What happens in Venice doesn’t always stay in Venice....”
“I’m confused. You lost me.” A bewildered expression crossed his face, and his scowl deepened. “What does that mean?”
>
Paris took his hand and placed it on her stomach. To avoid being overheard, she pressed her lips against his ear and whispered her confession. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant?” he cried, his eyes wide. “How? When? I don’t understand. Are you sure?”
“I’m 100 percent sure. I took four pregnancy tests this morning, and they all came out positive.” Gazing up at him, she searched his face for clues about how he was feeling, but came up empty. Paris leaned in close, to feel his warmth, his support, and tenderly caressed his cheek. “I wanted to tell you after breakfast, but it wasn’t the right time.”
Rafael nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. Are you okay?”
Rafael sighed and shook his head. “I’m not okay... I’m fan-freaking-tastic!”
Paris burst out laughing and jumped into his open arms. Fifteen years after meeting, they finally had their happily ever after, and she couldn’t be happier. To prove it, she kissed him passionately on the lips, for the entire world to see. Life was wonderful, better than it had ever been, and as long as Paris had Rafael, and her family by her side, she’d never want for anything.
* * * * *
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