Page 16 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

RAPHAEL

Idrummed my fingers on the steering wheel, while keeping my eyes on the young reporter. She was on her daily five-mile jog. That fucking snow white hair! It was up in a smooth, long ponytail, and it swished back and forth with each step.

She had a gorgeous body. The kind that had passersby give her a double take. Yes, that hair of hers was unusual, but it was so much more than just that.

The way her soul glowed through those stunning blue eyes pulled at my strings. Just like the first time we met. And like the true devil, I wanted to steal her soul and keep it with me forever.

I have been stalking her from afar for days. I was tempted to approach her, speak to her face-to-face. But it wasn’t time. Not yet.

Besides, the Feds had her watched. She had agents tailing her ever since her photographs were entered into evidence against the Tijuana Cartel and the bust over the women they smuggled into Nico’s territory.

My eyes roamed over her sweat-slicked body and exercise clothes that hugged her like a second skin. She was gorgeous. From that thick, high ponytail down to her slim, toned legs. Every morning, she ran the same path around the D.C. streets, her steps fueling her speed. Her forehead was slick with wisps of blonde hair plastered from sweat and her skin flushed. She seemed to be in the zone, her gaze distant and her smile curving into a reserved, absent smile to passersby.

According to the file I got from Nico Morrelli, she was close with Aurora Ashford and her brothers and her friend Willow. My eyes flickered to the file that showed her best friends, but it quickly drifted back to Sailor. Nico had information on her visits to her family which were non-existent. She kept her distance from her parents, and coincidently, her connection with them was severed right around the time her son was born.

My half-brother.

The revelation still seemed startling. Even after weeks of knowing it, I struggled to come to terms with it.

I watched Sailor McHale’s gaze roam the street. It was as if she sensed me, but she never noticed me. I never followed her in the same car. Other times, I jogged too, but I always kept my distance. Although she sensed someone was close. She’d look over her shoulders too often to be an accident.

She approached the coffee shop. The same one she stopped at every morning and met up with her on-again, off-again boyfriend. If they weren’t off-again, I’d ensure he became a permanent non-boyfriend.

As if on cue, the tall figure stepped out of the coffee shop, his striped Brioni suit immaculate and in such contrast to her exercise gear, it was almost comical.

I hated how they looked like a picture perfect couple. At least on paper. Sailor McHale and Aaron Kennedy.

The descendants of the two most prominent political families. Their match didn’t seem to surprise anyone. The only thing that surprised people was that they’d been on and off for years, rather than tying the knot. The guy was a clean cut guy, an up and coming figure in the political world.

Yeah, he’d never have her again. I’d fucking ensure it.

My eyes flickered to the tall figure that appeared to have just come off the runway. The guy was too pretty, almost as if he competed with Sailor in being the prettiest. Yeah, he’d lose that one because she trumped him by a mile.

I fucking hated that she seemed to have a type and it wasn’t anything like me. If he was anything to go by, she definitely had a thing for pretty boys from Ivy League universities and rich families. Little, self-entitled pricks. I bet her world was full of those.

Truthfully, I didn’t know why I disliked him. Okay, jealousy was a part of it. But there was more to it than just that. Maybe it was because in all the pictures and history between Sailor and the blonde cabrón, Gabriel was never part of it. The rumor was that it was the reason for the on and off relationship. I fucking hated the idea that my half-brother would be around someone like that - someone who thought himself too good to include a fucking kid as part of his relationship.

“How many of your secrets does he know?” I wondered out loud as I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. Tap, tap, tap.

Nico Morrelli’s deep dive into Sailor McHale and her sister revealed some interesting information. While Sailor was the legitimate daughter of Governor McHale and his wife, the older daughter wasn’t. She was the illegitimate daughter of his wife and the result of a secret affair she had prior to marrying him.

My phone buzzed. It was Nico.

“Yes?” I answered.

“You’re tailing Sailor McHale.”

I guess nothing should surprise me when it came to Nico, especially not when it happened in his territory. And D.C., Maryland, and Virginia were his territories.

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “What’s your interest in her anyhow?” he questioned. “Outside of the little brother. First, the file on all the McHale family. And now you’re following her around.”

I didn’t comment nor bother to elaborate.

“She hired my company for extra surveillance,” he added, when I remained quiet. “You’re discreet, but not that discreet, Colombian.”

“Fuck off, Nico.”

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