Page 111 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

He cackled. “But see, little one, I’d already had a contract signed by that time. I had Benito King hired to kill a man in exchange for a daughter. The Belles and Mobsters agreement that was unbreakable. And who better to pay it than Anya.”

Hate crossed my expression and slithered through my veins. Eight years away from my father weren’t long enough. The eight years away from him didn’t compensate for the first eighteen that I lived in fear. For Anya and for me.

Then his words sunk in. The contract was for one of his daughters. But Anya wasn’t his. “You tricked them,” I spat.

A smug expression on his face told me he was satisfied with himself. So fucking much that I wanted to stab him in his heart. Again and again. Like Raphael when he killed his first victim.

“I did,” he gloated. “And I told Anya if she didn’t drag her ass to the old Santos, I’d put you on the butcher block. She wanted to protect you at all costs. It was all about you for her. I gave her specific instructions. I wanted you to see it. It worked better than any whip against your skin.”

Horror entered my eyes. My father was Satan reincarnated. There was no other explanation for it.

“She was a kid. An innocent.”

He chuckled. Fucking chuckled, like destroying a human life was a joke.

“She was never innocent. Born out of sin and died from sin.”

I blinked. “You’re sick.”

A hand came across my face, the slap knocking me down to my knees. My ears buzzed and my cheek burned. My cheek exploded in pain. Tears stung the back of my eyes and it took all my will to keep them from falling. I refused to cry in front of anyone.

I blinked the tears away and raised my head. It was only then that I spotted Santiago Tijuana.

A scoff left my lips. “I should have known you couldn’t pull this off on your own,” I uttered the words, but my voice shook with emotion. “What happened to your hate of Hispanics,Father?”

Our gazes burned, clashing against each other. He knew I hated him. I didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

“You fucked one Hispanic,” my father spat. “What’s another?”

“Raphael’s my husband. And he’ll destroy you.” I desperately tried to stay strong. “Where is my son?”

Please don’t have him.If there was a God, he wouldn’t allow these men to get their dirty paws on someone so innocent.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him too,” Santiago chimed in. I let out a relieved sigh. It meant they didn’t have him.

No, you won’t get him. I’d keep my promise to Anya. Raphael would keep him safe.

“How did you find Raphael’s island?” I asked, stalling for time.

I needed to figure out a way to get away from these monsters.

“Beatrice was more than happy to share the location,” my father drawled, pleased with himself. “She ran to Santiago, fucked him, and asked for help to remove you from the picture.”

“Of course, we had to get rid of her,” Santiago chimed in. “No witnesses.”

I couldn’t even muster the strength to feel sorry for her because she brought that upon herself.

“Okay, now the story,” my father murmured, as he reached out to smooth a strand of my hair from my face. I jerked my face, his touch creeping me the fuck out. “Once upon a time, your mother was promised to me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Such a boring fucking story.”

This time my right cheek exploded.

“Patience is a virtue,” my father purred.Fuck patience, but I knew better than to say those words. “Anyhow, your mother went and slept with an average Joe and got herself knocked up.”

“Wow, that must have hurt,” I spat out. “Knocked up by an average Joe.”

Santiago Tijuana took another threatening step but Father raised his hand, signaling him that it was okay.

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