Page 45 of Rafi

“What happened after you found the container?”

“We lost Sophia at the docks that day. Mia has been beside herself ever since and we’ve been trying to find Maxine all these months. This is the first confirmed sighting we’ve had of her.”

“I hope you find her,” I tell him.

“There was also an attack on the chapel at Brando and Mia’s wedding. We haven’t been able to find out anything about the mercenaries that carried out the attack, except that they wereRussians. We now know it was Victor Moreno working with the Russians. We just don’t know who exactly.”

“He was trying to displace you?”

“For Victor, it was about power. For the Russians, it was probably payback for the containers they lost.”

I can’t wrap my head around all the intricate little pieces of this puzzle as they intertwine and intersect to make one big picture. I’m getting whiplash just trying to keep all the moving pieces still.

“I’ve heard the name Daniel Russo thrown around a few times. Where does he fit into all of this?”

“Daniel Russo is Jacklyn’s half-brother. He tried to kill her brother Jack, then he tried to kill her, hoping to take over the Vicci family. Obviously he didn’t get the memo that that’s not the way things work in this city. You don’t justtakethings, you have to earn them. He believed that having Vicci blood running in his veins gave him an automatic right to the throne.”

“Where is he now?”

“My guess is as good as yours. But what I do know is that once he’s found, he’s got a line of people waiting to dismantle his body parts.”

The morning lightfilters through the curtains, but it does nothing to ease the tension coiling in my chest. I pace the living room, my arms crossed tightly over my stomach, the heels of my shoes clicking against the polished floor. The sound is too loud in the silence, each step grating against my frayed nerves. I didn’t sleep well after I left Rafi standing on the balcony and went back to my room. Instead, I spent the night tossing and turning, trying to deconstruct the events of the past week.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” Rafi’s voice comes from behind me, low and steady.

I whirl to face him, startled, and he holds out a steaming mug of coffee. His dark eyes are calm, assessing, but there’s a flicker of something else there—concern, maybe.

I take the mug, my fingers curling around the ceramic, but I don’t drink. My throat feels too tight, my thoughts too tangled. “I barely slept,” I admit, my voice taut. “I can’t stop thinking about what he’ll do. Igor doesn’t leave Russia –ever.If he’s here in this city, he has a plan, and he means to execute it.”

Rafi doesn’t flinch. “Let him,” he says, his tone infuriatingly calm. He moves closer, his presence solid and grounding. “Whatever he’s planning, we’ll be ready.”

His composure stings. How can he be so collected when the mere thought of Igor sends ice down my spine? He doesn’t understand. He can’t. “You don’t know him,” I snap, my voice rising despite myself. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Rafi’s jaw tightens, but his gaze never wavers. “Then tell me.”

I look away, my hands trembling. The mug shakes slightly, and I set it down on the table before I drop it. My voice drops to a whisper. “You can’t underestimate him, Rafi. You don’t know Igor Aslanov like I do.”

He steps closer, and his hands settle gently on my shoulders. His touch is warm, steadying, but it only makes the tears burning behind my eyes threaten to fall. “Stop,” he says softly. “Don’t let him do this to you. Don’t let him control you with fear.”

I want to argue, but the words won’t come. My chest tightens, and I shake my head. “It’s not just fear,” I say, my voice cracking. “It’s knowing. Knowing exactly what he’s capable of. Knowing the kind of man he is.”

Rafi’s hands drop to his sides, but his focus doesn’t waver. “Stop protecting your past, Tayana. Let me in. Tell me what I’m dealing with here.”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and unbearable. My throat closes up, the memories clawing at the edges of my mind. I want to tell him, but the words catch in my throat, tangled in shame and years of silence.

Before I can answer, a sharp knock at the door shatters the moment. I flinch, my pulse racing, and Rafi’s head snaps toward the sound. His entire body tenses, a predator ready to strike.

Juliana steps into the room, her hands folded in front of her, a smile plastered on her face. The Gattis have the best of everything. The best family, the best life, even Juliana, who is more like a mother to the them than a housekeeper. “Scar has requested that you join the family for breakfast.”

Rafi nods before Juliana turns away and closes the door behind her.

“My family’s big on spending time together over meals,” he tells me.

“It’s nice that they have that tradition.” Especially when I’ve spent the last seven years eating at a table on my own. Unless I was out with my friends or on the rare occasion when my father popped in for a quick trip and insisted on us having dinner together.

Rafi’s expression runs along the length of my body, his eyes hard, the calm he carries overshadowed by something sharper, more dangerous.

“Don’t think this conversation is over,” he tells me. And I know that he’s referring to my uncle. It’s a subject I don’t want to touch on. “But know this. He can do nothing to hurt you. Nothing. You’re protected here.” He steps closer, his presence steady and unyielding. “If he wants to get to you, then he’ll get more than he bargained for. I promise you that.”

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