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“I don’t know. But I need you to prepare yourself. We’re always very cautious, but who knows?”
“Cautious? What are you talking about?” I ask, on the verge of a breakdown. Was Raph in danger?
“Now is not the time. You need to keep it together. We don’t know anything yet. But we will.” He looks so collected. Is it because he’s used to this kind of situation? Well, I’m not, and the panic is overtaking me.
“Rami, Raph… I can’t…” I choke out. I can’t get enough air inside my lungs. Where did it all go? The thought of being without him makes my inside twist painfully.
“I know. I’ll get him back. It’s my job.” He squeezes my shoulder in a comforting gesture and then lets me go.
“Serena, send me the candy factory coordinates.” Rami keeps giving her orders, but I’m shuffling to the bedroom to yank a pair of pants and a jacket on, before returning to the living room.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell Rami, putting as much finality as I can in my voice.
After he gives me a firm nod, I go for my sneakers in the entrance.
“I guess it’s time for you to learn the family business.”
Chapter 17
RAPHAEL
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Rague asks me, sitting in the corner of the FUNS room. The guy who attacked Michael has his hands and feet tied to the chair, looking terrified.
“Huh?” I throw Rague’s way. I’m trying to concentrate on the task at hand—choosing a tool to make the fucker pay for hurting my boyfriend.
“You should have gone with Michael,” Rague insists. “I could have taken care ofthat.” He points at the fucker, who just pissed himself. Pathetic.
“Why? He was fine and I need to deal with this piece of shit myself.”
The pissy fucker whimpers, snot coming out of his nose. At least he stopped begging.
“Really?” I hear Gabe say through the intercom, surely referring to the crying mess sitting on the chair, not to Rague’s confusing statement.
I grab the shears from the table, remembering the fucker threatening to cut Michael’s fingers. Payback is a bitch.
“He wasn’t fine. He was frightened and needed you. You put your revenge ahead of his needs,” Rague keeps annoyingly going. I asked him to stay in the room with me. Because this is a revenge kill, and that goes against our family code. His sole presence reminds me of that.
“How would you know what my boyfriend needs?” I retort.
He shrugs. “The real question is, do you?”
Fuck.
“Who’s the donor?” Gabe asks.
“No donor. He has so much heroin and alcohol in his veins, his blood has turned black.” Rague gestures at the multiple holes in the guy’s arms. The fucker owed a bunch of money to a lot of shady people. That’s why he wanted his uncle’s ring so badly. I’d have never even looked his way if he hadn’t hurt what’s mine.
“He attacked Michael,” I hiss.
“Since you’re here, I guess Michael is fine,” Gabe states.
“Physically, at least.” Rague is taunting me.
Gabe only hums. “Was it a mugging thing?”
Rague gives a short retelling of the attack, while I turn to the fucker who faints at the sight of the shears. I want to make the coward suffer as soon as he wakes up. To annihilate him. The primal urge to protect Michael rushes through my veins.
The first thing I’ll do as soon as I’m done here is move his stuff to my place. His apartment is not safe enough. The thought of him permanently staying in my penthouse infuses me with calm and satisfaction.
