Page 77 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

The cell phone in my hand, I started typing a message to Alexei.

“Probably making deals behind my back,” I said. “Maybe it’s time we remind him who Florida belongs to.”

“What are you thinking?” he questioned.

“Do we still have a picture of him fucking his mistress?” Caine nodded. “Let it slip to the press.”

I finished typing in the message to Alexei.*Check if your woman remembers coming to the club La Reina in Miami eight years ago with Sailor.*

Sailor slipped out of the bathroom and her eyes lit up with a spark of surprise.

“Has the party moved to the hallway?” she asked, amused.

Though something was off. I could see it etched on her face.Worry.

“Don’t worry, Reina. The Tijuana scum was escorted out.”

A terse nod, but she didn’t say anything else.

For the next thirty minutes, we made our rounds. It was then that Sailor’s upbringing shone. She was classy and composed, hiding behind a perfect face and a perfect smile. She sat at the table with the mayor's wife, along with a few other Miami socialites. On the surface, she fit right in.

They couldn’t tell the difference between her tense shoulders and her perfect posture, nor her sincere smile from her fake one.

I stood around with the mayor discussing the upcoming political campaign, and he was working hard to get me to sign up for a donation. I decided to let him sweat it out.

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention as a glimpse of blue, flowy material fluttered out of sight. Sailor’s gown.

I followed after her down the hallway, sticking to the shadows, interested to see where she was going. She turned left, then right until she spotted a terrace and she stepped outside. Once a distance away, she pressed a phone to her ear, gazing over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I can talk.” Her voice was soft, but the silence was so heavy, allowing her voice to travel over the light breeze.

“Seriously, you found it?” her voice was hopeful, her slim shoulders tense. “What kind of evidence?” A stretch of silence followed and she breathed out in disbelief. “That’s nothing new. I need something connecting the two of them.”

Another stretch of silence.

“Well, Santiago Tijuana wasn’t supposed to be allowed bail,” she hissed. “The evidence was solid.” Whatever she was being told, she didn’t like it.

She blew out an air of frustration. “No, thank you. It’s the last time I trust the Feds to keep us safe.”

It didn’t surprise me that Sailor was still chasing her story. Yes, it disappointed me, but I expected nothing less from the woman.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered and my lips tugged upwards. “Those fuckers.” She had a dirty mouth on her. “Do we at least know where to look?”

She pushed her hand through her hair. Whatever it was, she was worried about it. “If they’d left him in fucking jail, we wouldn’t be having this fucking conversation.” Another silence followed and a string of curses. “No, I don’t want to ask my fucking father. You can go fuck yourself.”

She’d get herself in trouble. Caine was a few feet behind me and he gave me a thumbs up. He was able to capture the conversation. Another few words and she hung up.

She started to pace back and forth, murmuring something to herself.

I strode out of the shadows and towards her. Her head whipped around, her eyes widened noticing me. My fingers itched to grab her nape, then punish her senseless with my mouth for continuing to endanger herself.

I slipped my hands into the pockets of my suit. “Having a good time?” I drawled.

Her shoulders slightly tensed, but she forced them lax.

“The best.” Her voice dipped with sarcasm.

“Let’s go home,” I told her.

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