by Eva Charles
“Don’t you dare hang up.”
“Cut me a break.”
“Tuck your dick back into your pants and get rid of the babe. You need to come home. Tonight.”
“Why?” he asks defiantly.
“Because he’s your father, and you need to go and see him. The plane’s on its way to London.”
“Don’t waste the fuel. I’m not getting on that plane.”
“You are getting on that plane. And you are going to that hospital. Because you’re a man, and sometimes men are required to do things that are unpleasant.” My voice is even, but firm. I give Rafa a lot of rope now that he’s a young man, but this is nonnegotiable.
“He’s your father. You need to make some kind of peace—for yourself. I don’t care what you say to him, but you do it while he’s alive. Otherwise, you’ll regret it someday.”
“Do you regret not making peace with your father?”
Oh, I made my peace with that sonofabitch. “We only know how we’ll feel with the benefit of hindsight. Then it’s too late.”
“Tonio—you’re my father. My real father. The only one I need.”
I would be honored to be the kid’s father. But I’m not. I’m his cousin. His guardian. But I don’t say any of it, because Rafa would see it as a rejection. And he’s already had enough rejection to last ten lifetimes.
“The plane will be there in two hours. Plan on going straight to the hospital, unless he dies while you’re en route.”
“Forget it.”
“Listen carefully,” I say in a tone that I know will grab his attention. Rafael gets very quiet. “You’re too damn old to be challenging me at every turn. It was fine when you were a kid, but you’re not a kid anymore. If you ever expect to work for me, to be anywhere near my men, you’ll learn to speak more respectfully.”
“I would never disrespect you in front of anyone,” he assures me with great sincerity. I believe him. “This is you and me. Like it’s always been. Family. Real family.”
I don’t say any more, because I want him to feel like he can come to me about anything—say anything. But he needs to be respectful.
“Is my brother with him?”
“I believe so. I’ll send a couple of my men to meet the plane when it lands back in Porto, and you have guards with you. This isn’t a good time to have a showdown with Tomas, but you don’t need to put up with any shit from him either.”
For a few seconds, I contemplate telling him I’ll go along so he doesn’t have to face those bastards alone. It would be the easiest way to manage the situation—for both of us. But easy doesn’t mean good. If I go with Rafael, he’ll think I don’t have faith in him to take care of business, and he’ll start to lose confidence in himself. We worked too damn hard to rebuild the confidence his father stole from him for me to throw it away now.
“What am I supposed to say to a dying man who I hate with every fiber of my being?” he demands. “‘I hope you rot in hell for murdering my mother and spreading filthy lies about her running off with another man.’ Is that what I’m supposed to say, Antonio?”
My heart clenches for the tortured little boy I hear in his voice.
“If that’s what you want to say, say it. This visit isn’t for him. It’s for you. It doesn’t matter what words you use. None of it matters. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
I don’t regret the words, but in my soul I know they’re a lie. Bad genes follow you forever. Boys who grow up with abusive fathers, without a lick of honor, suffer for a lifetime. That’s the truth. It’s my truth, just like it’s Rafael’s, but there’s no way in hell I’m sharing that with him.
“Send the babe home. Pack a bag and get on the plane. Plan to stay a few days. I miss your ugly face, and there’s someone staying at the house I want you to meet.”
“What, you got yourself a live-in babe?” He snickers, like it’s a far-fetched idea.
“Something like that.”
“I was kidding. You serious?”
“We’ll talk when you get home.”
29
Antonio
After we say goodbye, I toss my phone aside and run my fingers through my hair. Between Daniela and Rafa, my balls have been busted pretty good today.
“You’re going to introduce Daniela to him?” Cristiano asks, looking up from his laptop.
“I don’t want to wait any longer to tell him that we’re adding another member to the family. He’ll keep it quiet.”
“I’m not worried about him. What about her? She gave me an earful the other day.”
I rub my hands over my face. I’ve tried to teach Rafa that women aren’t objects put on Earth to satisfy men’s needs. And now I have this woman staying in my house—against her wishes. I wouldn’t put it past Daniela to spill her guts to him. Not that he could do a damn thing to help her.
Maybe I’ll do a little bartering.
“How are we doing with a phone for Daniela?”
Lucas lifts a phone off his desk. “All set. Safeguards are in place. You want it?”
“Yeah.”
He tosses it over.
“How did dinner go?”
I glare at Cristiano. “The house is still standing. But that’s only because she’d never risk Victor getting hurt.”
How did dinner go?
Daniela’s torn—about everything. I felt the indecision swirling inside her all night. She sent nothing but mixed signals—hot, cold, happy, angry…sometimes within the span of seconds. The only time she wasn’t battling was when my hands and mouth were on her.
She’d deny it vehemently, but she kissed me, dug her fingers into my shoulders, and let her tongue tangle with mine. She swayed into my cock, grinding her pussy against the bulge until it took everything I had not to sink my dick into her. But when she bucked off the table, hair matted to her damp skin, eyes unfocused, whimpering my name, that’s when I knew it was more than just a deal for her. She can pretend if it helps her sleep at night, but she wanted me as badly as I wanted her.
But even with combustible chemistry, getting her to the altar is going to be hell.
“Did you learn anything about why she left?” Lucas is hyper-focused on this. He believes it has something to do with the bastard who ran me off the road the day I visited her. I don’t agree. It was too much for someone to coordinate in the course of a visit. I wasn’t there long enough to put something like that in motion.
“I didn’t learn a thing about it. At least nothing I believe. But I’m not sure it matters much anymore.”
“Loose ends. I hate them,” Lucas grouses.
“Anything new from the hospital?”
“He’s stable, but it’s not looking good.”
“We need to put out some feelers and take the temperature. As word starts to leak, there’s going to be some jockeying.”
“Already on it.”
“Tomas still at the hospital?”
“Yep.”
My uncle is the brains behind their entire operation. He never handed over any of the reins, because he knew his oldest son is an idiot.
“We need to keep tabs on Tomas. He thinks he’s a fucking genius, but no one else believes that. Someone will approach him and offer him what looks like a sweet deal.”
“The Russians,” Cristiano says soberly.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. But I don’t rule out the Camorra. Either way, we can’t let it happen.”
The Camorra are well entrenched in Porto, as are the Georgians, but they’re small contingencies that rarely cause us heartburn. The Russians, on the other hand, want a foothold along the Atlantic within easy reach of our European neighbors, and of the US. They can talk a good game, but they don’t give a damn about our Port, or what the industry means to the people who live along the Douro.
The region will implode if they get their tentacles into the valley.
30
Antonio
“Hey,” Rafael chirps, sauntering into my office. He seems mo
re at ease than he was on the phone last night. Probably because the hospital visit is behind him.
“Rafa.” I come around the desk and embrace him. He’s my height, a man, but a part of me will always think of him as a boy.
“How did things go at the hospital?” I ask, motioning for him to take a seat in front of the desk. I sit in the chair beside him, angling it so I can see his face. Rafael has a habit of making light of anything that causes him heartache, but his eyes don’t lie.
“It pretty much sucked. Right up there with having my wisdom teeth out—if they hadn’t given me anesthesia.” He throws his head back, closing his eyes.
I don’t say anything. I sit patiently, waiting for the pain to tumble out.
“I didn’t feel a thing, Antonio. Nothing. Not even hatred anymore. He was so pathetic lying there. Just a feeble old man. I can move past the way he treated me, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did to my mother. He deserves no mercy. Not from God. Not from anyone.”
No, he doesn’t.
“Did you see your brother?” I ask when the silence feels too heavy.
“Yeah. He’s still an asshole.”
“He is. But that should never stop you from doing what you need to do. I’m proud of you for going to the hospital.”
He grabs a ball of rubber bands off my desk. “Pfft. So what’s all this about a babe in residence?”
He’s done baring his soul. Now the ball’s in my court.
I take a deep breath, sit back, and stretch out my legs, trying to make this appear casual and light. I don’t want to add any more weight to his shoulders.
“I’m getting married in a month. The bride has moved to the top floor. I don’t think she’ll cramp your style, but don’t parade around bare-assed outside your suite.”
It takes a lot to shut Rafa up. But it’s hard to form words when your jaw’s on the floor.
“Whoa. Back up, stud muffin. Bride? You’re getting married? Did hell freeze over?”
I chuckle. “Probably. And yes, I’m getting married.”
“This is kind of sudden, don’t you think? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Why am I just hearing about this?” His antennae are up, and he looks a bit slighted.
“You didn’t hear about it because, unlike you, I don’t kiss and tell. But it wasn’t sudden. We were betrothed more than six years ago, and it’s time.”
He flops back in the chair. “Dude. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I probe, even though I know the answer.
“Betrothed is just a fancy term for arranged.”
“In our world, yes. But the arrangement wasn’t made for me. I was a party to the agreement.”
He nods and is quiet for several seconds, as though he’s processing the new information. “Is she hot? Do I know her?”
“First, I suggest if you want to stay on my good side, you don’t refer to my fiancée as hot. Second, yes, I’m sure you know her—or at least know who she is.”
“I’m getting gray here waiting for her name.”
With every person I tell, it becomes more real. It is real. Like it or not, you’re marrying her. I am, and if she’d just behave, I wouldn’t even mind.
“Rafa, I’m sharing this with you because you’re an important part of my life. Other than Cristiano and Lucas, no one else knows this information. And no one can know until I’m ready to divulge it.”
He snickers, making light of the moment. It’s what he does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. “What, did you kidnap the president’s daughter?”
Not quite—but damn close. “I want your word.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’d take a bullet for you, man.”
“I don’t need you to take a bullet. Just keep your mouth shut.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know.” I meet his prying gaze. “I’m marrying Daniela D’Sousa.”
Rafael’s eyes widen, and he whistles long and low. “Wow. The D’Sousa princesa.” He shakes his head. “Isn’t she a little young for you?”
I glare at him, and he lifts both hands, palms facing me. “No judgments. I just remember her as an annoying little kid.”
“She’s older than you.”
“Barely.” He laughs. “She finally got her hooks in you.”
I don’t think she sees it quite that way.
“She’s always been into you.”
He has my complete attention. “What are you talking about?” I ask carefully.
“Daniela and her friends. They would always come up to me and ask, Is Antonio in Porto? Is he coming to the feast? Have you seen him?” He grimaces. “God, they were so annoying. The boys and I would say, Yeah, he’s here. We would tell them that even if you were out of the country. One of us would say, I saw him earlier near the rides. Or something like that. They would walk around in circles, for hours, looking for you.”
I sit back in the chair and feel the smile bloom—inside and out. Just thinking about the little mouthy hellion—who last night acted like she could barely stand the sight of me—stalking my every move makes me laugh.
“She finally snagged you, huh?”
“That’s one way of looking at it. Although now that she has me, I think she’d like to throw me back.” My tone is playful, but the words ring true.
“That’s women for you,” he says, shaking his head, like he’s an expert. “So you haven’t told your mom?”
“No. Not yet. And if you talk to her, keep your mouth shut.”
“She’ll be ecstatic. Maria Rosa was one of her best friends. My mom’s too,” he adds quietly.
My mother will be many things, but ecstatic isn’t one of them. There’s nothing I can do about it. She’ll have to deal with it, like everyone else.
“Alma and Victor don’t know?”
“Victor isn’t stupid, but he would never ask. If Alma knew, my mother would know.”
“Is that why Daniela’s staying in the valley, to keep her away from Alma?”
“That, and we’re not married.”
His eyes light up, and his shoulders begin to shake. “Yes, because you wouldn’t want to have sex with someone you’re not married to,” he taunts. “Tell me, Antonio, what does it feel like to be a virgin in the twenty-first century?”
Little bastard. “It’s not about me. It’s about respect. She’s not like some babe you handcuff to your bed. She’s going to be my wife. Not that what happens between Daniela and me is any of your damn business.”
“I’m just giving you a hard time,” he mutters sheepishly, dropping the rubber bands on my desk. “Is the wedding going to be a big shindig?”
I shake my head. “Small. We’ll have a big celebration at some point. Maybe in the fall, after the harvest.” He leans over and ties his shoe. I wait until he’s done before continuing. “I’m hoping you’ll stand at my side in the church, with Cristiano and Lucas.”
All the teasing disappears, replaced by a wave of emotion so enormous it touches my soul.
“I would be honored.” His voice catches as it fades away. “More honored than you can imagine,” Rafael murmurs, almost under his breath.
This is more than standing with me as a best man. It’s elevating him publicly in the eyes of everyone in the church—and beyond, because everything that happens in that church will filter out into the valley. It’s a cherished spot for a kid who spent too long wondering if he had any value aside from being a punching bag.
“How long are you staying?”
“I have exams.” He shrugs. “I need to get back to school tomorrow—or the next day.”
“Let’s have dinner together tonight. You can meet Daniela as an adult and see if she’s still annoying.”
31
Daniela
Before I went to bed, I left a note for Victor explaining that it was late and not to expect me before lunch. I still don’t have an appetite, but I promised I’d come down for a midday meal. Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about runni
ng into Antonio. He left after he was done with me last night.
I have to be more cautious around him. Smarter and more calculated. I need to remember that even when my old feelings for him creep in, he doesn’t share any of them. He never did.
He’s planning to marry me—and use me for sex when there’s no one better available. I don’t care what he says. He’s not looking for a real marriage. He wants to fulfill his end of a grand bargain.
Yes, he’ll buy me pretty clothes and jewels, and all the trappings of a luxurious life. A lonely, empty life. Even if it wasn’t his family who killed my mother, it’s not a life I would ever choose. Not even with a handsome man who plays my body like a master.
I need to get out of here before we take vows. Escaping after we’re married might be easier, but it will embarrass him. He’ll never stop hunting me once I have a ring on my finger.
The clock ticks louder with each passing day, but I’m no closer to leaving.
I shut the suite door, praying that somehow the tide will turn in my favor. I’m due. Long past due.
As I take the stairs to the kitchen, I hear some laughter and stop to look out the open window on the second-floor landing. There are several people—staff—milling around and having lunch, or a cigarette break. Paula’s there, too, sitting on the tailgate of a truck bed. Her feet are dangling as though she doesn’t have a care in the world, laughing with a young man about her age.
It reminds me a little of the dinner breaks we took at my night job. We would gather outdoors when it was warm, relaxing for thirty minutes before it was time to go back to mopping and scrubbing. I won’t miss the work, but I’ll miss my colleagues and the shared camaraderie.
As I continue down the stairs, I can’t stop thinking about the people outside.
This place feels so formal, not just the decor, but there’s a stodgy air about it. A stark contrast to the playfulness outside.
Victor has run a household for ages. He’s polished, but there’s also a bit of fun about him. Everyone else I’ve encountered who works in the house, including Paula, is reserved and cautious. Maybe it’s just around Antonio—and me.
