RAFAEL

The late afternoon sun filters through the Venetian blinds in my office, casting striped shadows across Julio's face as he leans forward in his chair. His eyes sparkle with an unusual excitement as he speaks in rapid Spanish, his voice filled with wonder.

"Dios mío, she's incredible, Capo. The way she is with Daniel... I swear, I'd marry her just to keep her in my son's life forever."

I lean back in my leather executive chair; my fingers steepled under my chin as I regard my friend. The air is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and cigar smoke, remnants of our earlier discussion about business matters. Now, somehow, we've veered into talking about my pet and her unexpected bond with Julio's son.

"Is that so?" I reply in Spanish, my tone neutral but my interest piqued. "Tell me more."

Julio's face lights up, his usual stoic demeanor melting away. "She's like magic with him. When she's around, Daniel doesn't even look for me. It's... it's a relief, you know? To have someone take him off my hands for a few hours."

I sit up, resting my elbows on the polished mahogany desk. My crisp white shirt stretches across my shoulders as I lean forward, fixing Julio with an intense gaze. "So what now? You want me to keep her forever?"

"If you could, yes," he responds without hesitation, his eyes pleading.

A cold chuckle escapes me as I lean back, the leather creaking softly. "She must be truly amazing," I muse, my mind drifting to thoughts of her. The woman is an enigma, a puzzle I can't quite solve. Her defiance the other day when we fucked shocked me but didn't surprise me entirely. I saw the fire in her eyes even as she trembled that first day, and I love it. It just means I'm going to enjoy breaking her even more.

Julio's eager voice snaps me back to the present. "So what do you say?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "That's not entirely up to me," I remind him gently. "Thomas hasn't made a move yet, but it's only a matter of time. He'll come for his sister-in-law, and that's exactly what I'm counting on."

Julio leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is it really out of your hands? You could make sure she doesn't escape when Thomas comes for her. He won't be leaving here alive, but that doesn't mean she has to die too."

I give him a noncommittal shrug. "We'll see how everything plays out."

There's a moment of hesitation before Julio speaks again, his tone more serious. "I wanted to ask... did you really agree to her deal? Are you going to keep her sister off your radar?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications. I lean back, my fingers drumming on the armrest as I contemplate my next words carefully.

"Let's get one thing straight, Julio," I say, my voice low and controlled. "The blonde is a means to an end. She's a good fuck, but that's not why she's still here. Her sister is the key to Thomas, and Thomas is the key to avenging Rosalia."

Julio nods, understanding in his eyes. "I get it. Just... don't let her know that, okay? She's a good person, and as much as I'm the devil's best friend, I don't want her to feel worse than she already does."

"Yeah, I won't," I assure him, a rare moment of empathy passing between us.

Julio shifts in his seat, his expression turning serious. "Before I forget, I did some digging. You were right about the inspector. He isn't bold enough to go against us on his own. He has someone backing him."

"Mother fucker!" I exclaim, my frustration barely contained. The operation to retrieve my goods was supposed to go off without a hitch. We had a plan: bribe the inspector and use his family as leverage if that didn't work.

But the plan unraveled quickly. One million didn't even make a dent in the inspector's resolve, which I found odd. When Luca, my most trusted bodyguard, was supposed to put the inspector's wife and daughter on the line, there was no answer. I called repeatedly, each unanswered ring only widening the smug grin on the inspector's face. Something was off, and the bastard seemed to know why.

Eventually, Luca's voice came through, strained with panic. "Capo, they ambushed us. Someone knew where we were and came for them." Those words hit me like a bucket of ice water.

To make matters worse, the inspector's victorious smile grew. He had anticipated our move, which wasn't surprising, but how did he manage to find and rescue his family so quickly?

"Who's backing him?" I ask, my voice low and gravelly.

"I don't know for sure, but my best guess is Thomas. He has the money and motive to disrupt our operations," Julio offers.

My eyes darken with hatred at the mention of Thomas's name. A familiar rage begins to simmer beneath my skin. "Of course, the fucker is the one behind it," I spit out, my fist clenching involuntarily. "How's it coming along finding the mole who told Inspector Diego where to find his family?" The question burns in my mind - there had to be a mole. It's the only explanation for how he knew so quickly where to find them.

Julio's expression tightens, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. "We're working on that too, but it's challenging. This person seems to have blended in so well with our operation." He pauses, his next words carefully chosen. "I wonder if Thomas might have turned one of our own against us."

I lean back, the leather creaking beneath me. "That's not impossible," I muse, my mind racing through possibilities. "Find him, but don't kill him when you do. I have... other ideas."

"No problem, Capo," Julio responds, pushing back from his chair and standing up. "I'll see you later. I want to go and visit Danny," he says, walking towards the door.

I stop him with a raised hand, suddenly feeling the urge to accompany him. "I'll come with you," I decide, rising from my seat. "I want to see how amazing she is with him." Recalling our earlier conversation.

We make our way toward the back of the estate, where my vineyard stretches out, its rows of grapevines bathed in the soft afternoon light. The wine here might taste like shit, but it serves its purpose—a cover for the government's scrutiny of my finances. As we approach, the sound of laughter and singing reaches our ears, drawing us closer to the source.

The scene that unfolds before us is nothing short of enchanting. Francesca and Danny stand in a large wooden vat, their feet submerged in a sea of purple grapes. Francesca's melodious voice carries through the air as she sings a Spanish lullaby, her golden hair catching the sunlight. Danny's face is lit up with pure joy, his small hands gripping the sides of the vat as he stomps enthusiastically.

Francesca's sundress is hiked up to her knees, revealing tanned legs stained with grape juice. Danny's shorts and t-shirt are equally splattered, but neither seems to care. They move in a playful dance, their laughter echoing across the vineyard.

I find myself transfixed, unable to look away from the beautiful tableau before me. It's been so long since I've seen Danny this carefree, the weight of his trauma momentarily lifted from his small shoulders. The memory of finding his mother's lifeless body after she overdosed had cast a long shadow over him, but here, in this moment, that darkness has receded.

Francesca suddenly gasps, her eyes widening in mock surprise as Danny kicks grape juice in her direction. Her shock quickly dissolves into giggles as she retaliates, sending a splash of purple liquid his way.

As I watch Francesca, I'm struck by a new dimension of her beauty. It's not just her physical appearance – though that's undeniable – but the warmth and light that seem to radiate from within her. Her smile is dazzling, her laughter musical and the way she interacts with Danny is nothing short of magical.

A strange ache builds in my chest, and I run my hands across my face, trying to shake off the intensity of my emotions. Fuck! I'm beginning to think Julio's idea might actually have merit. For some inexplicable reason, I find myself craving that smile again—wanting to hold onto it and, more troubling, to make sure I'm the only fucker who ever gets to see it.

"Daddy!" Danny shouts, his little feet pattering against the ground as he races towards Julio. The sound of his childish enthusiasm pulls me from my trance-like state, forcing me back to reality.

Julio's face lights up with paternal affection as he scoops Danny into his arms, completely unfazed by the grape juice staining the boy's legs. "Hello, son," he says warmly, his voice filled with genuine joy.

I turn away from Julio and Danny, my gaze locking on my pet's. Those mesmerizing blue eyes of hers are filled with curiosity. I make a move to leave. I've seen what I came for - the joy on Danny's face, the way Francesca has brought light back into his life. It's more than I expected, and I'm happy for my godson.

But just as I take a step, her melodic voice stops me in my tracks. "Can I speak to you?" she asks softly, her words carried on the gentle breeze.

I pause, considering. "Please, I won't take more than a minute," she adds, her tone gentle yet insistent. Against my better judgment, I decide there's no harm in hearing her out.

"What is it?" I ask, spinning around to face her. Frankie quickly steps out of the large wooden vat, her sundress falling back into place as she walks towards me. The sunlight catches her golden hair, creating a halo effect that only adds to her ethereal beauty. As she approaches, I notice the way she nervously wets her lips - a habit I've come to recognize as a sign of her nervousness.

Francesca's question catches me off guard. "I want to ask you if I am enough," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I raise an eyebrow, confusion etched on my face. "If you're enough?" I repeat, not quite understanding what she's getting at.

She wets her lips again, shifting nervously on her feet. It's strange. This woman, who had no problem with me taking her in the most degrading way and defining me as I did it, now struggles with a simple conversation. I can't help but wonder where that fiery attitude of hers has gone—the same one that made her a constant presence in my bed.

I was ready to toss her out that night, but seeing her sleep so peacefully after taking me so well, I just let her stay. I enjoyed it because I could get my morning fuck without moving from the bed. That's the only reason I let her stay.

"What is it, blondie?" I ask, my impatience creeping into my voice.

"I'm asking if my pussy is enough for you to accept my offer," she replies, her words blunt and direct.

Her choice of words makes me chuckle, but I can't help but admire her straightforwardness. It's almost as if she knew about the conversation Julio and I had about her. Even though I usually ignore Julio's advice, I find myself compelled to listen this time. The look of hope in her eyes stirs something within me—I don't want to fucking crush it.

So, despite the truth, I lie. "Yes, your sister is of no concern to me right now."

"Oh my God! Thank you!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around me in an unexpected embrace. I freeze, my body going rigid as her slender arms wrap around my middle. I feel my body go rigid, muscles tensing involuntarily. The soft press of her breasts against my chest only makes it worse, triggering a flood of unbidden memories.

Rosalia's face appears vividly in my mind, as sharp and real as if she were standing right in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to block out the images, to remind myself why I have locked those dark times away and why I've forbidden any woman from touching me. But it's no use.

Against my will, my treacherous mind conjures Rosalia's naked form exactly as he forces me to see her over and over. I clench my fists until my nails bite into my palms, silently begging my brain to stop before I put a bullet between my own eyes.

But the memories only grow more vivid, the sights and smells of that room flooding my senses—the pungent reek of my own...

The memory abruptly cut off at the sound of a sweet voice. I recognize it immediately as blondie's. Her sweet tones anchor me to the present, drawing me back from the brink. My eyes flutter open, focusing on her angelic face framed by golden locks, her lips moving in a silent song. The beauty of her voice, though incomprehensible, washes over me like a soothing balm.

As I stare, transfixed by her ethereal presence, something extraordinary happens. The demons that have been tormenting me retreat, slinking back into the recesses of my mind. It's as if her voice possesses a magical quality, dispelling my panic attack with an effortless grace. In this moment of clarity, I become acutely aware of her embrace, her warmth enveloping me.

"Stop!" The command escapes my lips, abrupt and harsh in the wake of her gentle melody. Blondie's song ceases immediately, leaving us in a charged silence. I brace myself, waiting for the onslaught of my inner demons to resume, to fucking drag me back to hell. But nothing happens. I can feel the heat radiating from her petite frame pressed against mine, yet the panic doesn't resurface.

"Fuck me!" The exclamation bursts forth, a mixture of shock and disbelief. My eyes, wide with amazement, bore into hers as I try to comprehend what just fucking transpired. What incredible power does she possess to quell the storm within me so effortlessly?

I move away from Francesca, my mind reeling, struggling to comprehend the inexplicable events that just transpired. I run my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit that does little to calm the storm of confusion raging within me. It doesn't add up. It fucking doesn't.

I pause mid-stride, my gaze unfocused as I contemplate testing this bizarre theory once more. There has to be a logical explanation for this anomaly. As I turn back towards Francesca, determined to unravel this mystery, something in her demeanor stops me in my tracks.

The color drains from her face, fear etching itself into every line of her delicate features. Her eyes, wide with terror, are fixed on a point beyond me. Curiosity piqued, I follow her gaze to see a group of my new recruits heading towards the backhouse for training. The contrast between their purposeful march and Francesca's paralyzed state is jarring.

I quickly close the distance between us. Snapping my fingers in front of her face, I demand, "What the fuck are you looking at?" The sharp sound breaks her trance, and her eyes reluctantly meet mine.

"Nothing," she lies, her voice barely above a whisper. The tremor in her tone betrays her words.

I feel irritation bubbling up inside me at her blatant lie. "Do I have to punish you to get it out of you?" I growl, desperate to know the source of her fear. It's the same terror I saw in her eyes that night when I tried to cover them. Oddly enough, I sense a connection between that fear and what's happening now, even though I can't quite see how.

Francesca's response comes quickly, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm serious; it's nothing. I just thought I saw someone from my past. That's all." I study her face intently, searching for signs of deception. While her explanation doesn't seem like an outright lie, the intensity of her reaction doesn't match up with merely spotting a familiar face.

Despite my lingering doubts, I decide to let the matter rest for now. "Alright. Let's go into the house," I say, my tone gruff as I take her arm and guide her towards the building. The desire to test my earlier theory is no longer there.