Page 11 of Raphael
"Yes. Sophomore year."
"Expensive college?”
I lift my chin slightly. "I have scholarships. And jobs. Like this one."
Something that might be approval flickers across his face. "Marco is important to all of us, Ms. Harper. His safety and happiness are paramount."
"I agree completely," I say, meeting his gaze directly despite the intimidation I feel. "He's a wonderful boy."
"And his father?" Dante asks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "What do you make of Raphael?"
The question catches me off guard. What game is he playing? "He's... a devoted father," I say. "And seems like a good employer."
"Nothing more?"
Heat rises to my cheeks. "I've known him for one day, Mr. Veneziano. I'm here to care for his son, not to form personal opinions about him."
"Good answer, Ms. Harper. I think you'll do well here."
Before I can respond, another figure appears in the doorway behind Dante. Franco, the giant of a man who had looked at me with such suspicion earlier.
"Dante," he says simply, his deep voice rumbling. "We need to finish up."
Dante nods. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Harper. I'm sure we'll see each other again."
They both leave, closing the door behind them. I sink back onto the bed, my heart racing. What was that about? Was I just interviewed, or vetted, by what I'm increasingly certain is some kind of mafia boss?
I run my hands through my hair, trying to process the interaction. The way Dante spoke, his questions, the assessment in his eyes... it was like being interrogated by a more sophisticated version of my father's police captain.
And his question about Raphael. *Nothing more?* As if he could see the inappropriate attraction I've been trying to suppress since the moment I saw Raphael standing shirtless in his doorway this morning.
My phone buzzes with a text from Mom: *Don't stay up too late. Love you.*
I smile despite my racing thoughts. *Love you too. Sleep well.*
Setting my phone aside, I move to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I'm finishing up, I hear the distant sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by muffled goodbyes. Dante and Franco must be leaving.
I hesitate, unsure whether I should stay in my room or check if Raphael needs anything before I go to sleep. Before I can decide, another soft knock sounds on my door.
"Annie?" Raphael's deep voice comes through the wood. "You still awake?"
My heart jumps to my throat. "Yes," I call back, quickly checking my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes look too bright. I look exactly like what I am—a girl with a crush on her impossibly attractive employer.
When I open the door, Raphael stands there looking tired but still unfairly handsome. He's removed his suit jacket and loosened his tie, and there's a tension around his eyes that wasn't there this morning.
"I wanted to apologize," he says, keeping a respectful distance. "I should have warned you I'd be bringing colleagues back tonight."
"It's fine," I assure him. "I hope the pizza was okay."
A small smile touches his lips. "It was perfect. Marco insisted on making mine with extra pepperoni, I see."
"He said it's your favorite."
"He's right." Raphael hesitates, then asks, "Did Dante speak with you?"
"Briefly," I nod. "He seems... concerned about Marco's welfare."
"Dante is Marco's godfather," Raphael explains. "He takes the role very seriously."
