Page 65 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

“Of course. We’ll see you in two days.” Nico’s mouth twitched and I knew the next thing out of his mouth would be a smartass comment. “Should I bring my kids or leave them at home? I don’t want them to see you dragging your bride down the aisle.”

Fucking asshole.

“Sailor agreed to marry me,” I smirked. “I seem to recall you punched your wife’s friend on your wedding day.”

“All in the past,” Nico snickered. I shook my head as I slid into the car.

It took us about an hour to get to the McHale manor, right outside Richmond, Virginia. The large estate was surrounded by tall walls and guards at the gate.

I pushed the button and the window slid down. The security guard saw our faces. It was the man I put on my payroll.

“I’m here to see Mr. and Mrs. McHale,” I told him.

With his terse nod, the gate slid open. Diego drove down the long driveway until we pulled around the circular driveway to the front of the house.

Parking, he exited the car and came around to open my door. He gave the appearance of being just my driver, when in fact he was one of my best enforcers. I exited the car and headed up the grand staircase.

Before I reached the entrance, the door swung open.

There was no mistaking who the woman that opened the door was. She didn’t have platinum blonde hair like Sailor, but her face resembled her daughter’s. She was a beautiful woman, but unlike her daughter, everything about her was a cold, almost cruel beauty.

Her mother stumbled as her gaze locked on me. Slowly, she looked me up and down, then her lip curled in disgust. The words Sailor told me at our first meeting rushed back to the forefront of my mind. She said her parents hated Hispanics.

Turns out, Sailor wasn’t exaggerating.

“Mrs. McHale.” I walked up to her and took her hand. “Raphael Santos. Your husband will recognize the name.”

She flinched, then paled, and I let out a sardonic breath.

“We weren’t expecting you,” her mother remarked, clear confusion evident in her voice.

“I have some news I want to share with you and your husband,” I said, my lips tipping up into a smirk. “I know you’ll be thrilled to learn that your family will be forming a permanent connection to a Colombian one.”

If I thought she was pale before, it didn’t compare to her complexion now. Her eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets.

“Lead the way, Mrs. McHale,” I urged in a cold voice.

She didn’t move so, just to ensure she understood the option to deny me wasn’t on the table, I added, “It’s about the contract he put out on my half-brother and your daughter, Sailor. You know, the Hispanic half-brother of mine that your eldest daughter gave birth to.”

She remained immobile. My patience ran thin. “Would you like me to pull out my gun and incentivize you?”

That finally got her moving. She led the way across the foyer and down a hallway, her back stiff. She opened a door and entered what looked like an office. I gave her no chance to slam the door and give a heads up to her husband.

She was forced to step further into the room or risk me shoving her out of the way. The moment I saw the bastard, I fought the urge to pull out my gun and shoot him.

Instead, I clenched my hand into a fist. It was better than grabbing my gun or his throat, then kicking the shit out of him. So, I inhaled deeply and kept a tight lid on my control.

“McHale,” I greeted him, meeting his confused stare. He recognized me immediately. Not because we have met before but because he knew exactly who I was. And my resemblance to my father. Unlike Sailor, who was a mixture of both her parents, her platinum blonde hair courtesy of her old man.

“Santos.” He wasn’t so brave now.

“I’ll make this short,” I started, smiling smugly. “And relatively painless.”Maybe. “Sailor and Gabriel are under my protection. My family. I won’t tolerateanythreats aimed at them.” I let the words sink through his thick skull for a moment before I continued. “And let me make it perfectly clear. If you attempt anything, I won’t hesitate to leak your contract with Santiago Tijuana to the press. Nor the contract you had with my father and Benito King.” His face paled, but then he shook himself and looked between his wife and me. “You sold out your eldest to my father through the Belles and Mobster’s agreement, and your youngest to Santiago Tijuana.”

His hand flew down, hitting his desk.

“My daughters are my business,” he hissed, pure venom dripping from his mouth. How a man like that could produce a beautiful woman like Sailor was beyond me.

I prowled toward him and pulled the knife at the same time and plunged it into his hand, resting against the desk.

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