"Shoot!" Nicco snapped his fingers. "I forgot to get the merlot from the wine cellar."
"Since you're going back inside, grab the garlic chicken for me." Rafael picked up a bottle and took a swig of his beer. "It's in the glass container at the bottom of the fridge."
"And bring me another beer," Demetri called over his shoulder. "But hurry. I'm dying out here! This heat is insane!"
Rafael turned his attention back to the grill. He finished the steaks, while Demetri chopped the vegetables and prepped the appetizers.
"Are you nervous about Paris finally meeting Mom and Dad tonight?"
Rafael shook his head. "Not at all," he said, lowering the temperature on the gas grill. "Paris is a dynamic woman with an amazing personality, and I'm confident they'll hit it off."
"I'm glad you guys reunited in Venice. You two make a fantastic couple. It's obvious Paris loves you very much."
And I love her even more. I'm finally living the American dream, and I can't wait to mak Paris my lawfully wedded wife.
"Damn, what's taking Nicco so long?" Demetri opened the oven and slid the garlic bread inside. "This is what I get for sending a boy to do a man's job!"
"Watch the steaks. I'll be right back." Rafael leveled a finger at his brother. "If they burn, I'm going to kick your ass and post the video on YouTube."
Despite himself, Demetri chuckled. "You guys are never going to let me live that video down, are you?"
"Nope," Rafael said, struggling to keep a straight face. "It's not every day we get to see a woman ream you out, and Angela gave it to you real good that day!"
Rafael entered the house and headed straight for the fridge. Opening it, he took out the glass container, another bottle of his secret barbecue sauce and an ice-cold beer. Realizing Nicco probably needed a hand carrying the wine bottles up from the cellar, he left the items on the counter, and jogged upstairs to the second floor.
"I lost everything because of you!"
His blood ran cold. Cranking his head to the right, he listened intently for a moment.
"You wouldn't be shit without me. I put Dolce Vita on the map. Not you."
A suffocating knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Rafael slumped against the wall and pressed his eyes shut. He recognized the man's voice instantly. It was Tye Caldwell, Nicco's former business partner. They used to be thick as thieves but everything changed when Nicco discovered Tye had embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars from Dolce Vita. Instead of pressing criminal charges, Nicco had fired Tye, and the last they'd heard he was backpacking through Europe.
Light bulbs went off in Rafael's head. His instincts had been wrong. Gracie and her ex-con brother weren't responsible for the vandalism of Dolce Vita Miami, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel or the brazen arson attack at Jariah's condominium complex. Tye was.
Rafael's fear escalated. He took a deep breath and with great effort squelched the panic rising inside him. Shocked and appalled by the hateful words coming out of Tye's mouth, Rafael considered the best course of action. He had a minute, maybe two, before Demetri came into the house in search of his beer and his brothers, but Rafael had even bigger things to worry about. Angela, Jariah and Paris were out shopping at Aventura Mall and would be back home any minute. But what would happen if his parents arrived first? Rafael shuddered at the thought. His father disliked Tye, always had, and the feeling was definitely mutual.
"You couldn't stand to see me succeed," Tye snarled. "That's why you forced me out of Dolce Vita. You were jealous because the spotlight was finally shining on me."
"I fired you because you embezzled money from our business and set me up to take the fall."
"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!"
Rafael inched down the hall and peeked inside the bright, spacious wine cellar. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He was hallucinating, had to be. Rafael rubbed his eyes and shook his head but the terrifying image still remained. Tye was pointing a black Beretta pistol at Nicco's chest, and his eyes were dark with rage.
Guilt troubled Rafael's conscience. This is all my fault! The guy who'd bumped into him near his uncle's jewelry store was Tye Caldwell, and if Rafael had remembered to call his security team Tye would be in jail, not pointing a gun at Nicco.
In that moment, Rafael realized just how precious life was and decided that if he survived this ordeal he would propose to Paris sooner rather than later. He couldn't wait three weeks for her thirty-sixth birthday. He had her diamond engagement ring hidden in the secret compartment of his briefcase, and he'd memorized his speech weeks ago. He was ready to pop the question and couldn't think of anything better than- The thought froze in his mind and his mouth dried.
"You'd be nothing without me!" Tye raged, his tone thick with hate. "Dolce Vita was my brainchild, not yours. I poured my sweat, blood and tears into the business."
Rafael glanced around, searched for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but came up empty. He had to act now. Couldn't risk putting the people he loved in harm's way.
I don't need a weapon, I have the element of surprise on my side, he reasoned. Eyes narrowed in determination, hands balled into fists, he burst into the room and lunged at Tye. Rafael knocked him to the ground, and the gun went off. Bullets ricocheted around the room, blasted off the walls and shelves. Wine bottles shattered into a million pieces, oil paintings crashed to the floor, and the stench of gun powder polluted the air.
Anger and rage infected every inch of his body. Rafael punched Tye in the face, throwing so many blows he lost count. His hands throbbed in pain, but he didn't stop. He had to protect his family, had to save the people he loved most, no matter what.
"Bro, stop, that's enough!" Nicco grabbed Rafael's forearm and pulled him off Tye. "Damn, you knocked him out cold with one punch."
"He got what he deserved." Disgusted, Rafael stared down at Tye. He was sprawled on the floor, unconscious. His eye was swollen shut, his mouth was bloody and his white polo shirt was ripped. Broken glass littered the floor, wine flowed like the Red Sea and the air smelled sweet. "No one messes with my family and gets away with it."
"You saved my life."
"Of course I did. That's my job. I'm your big brother."
"When you burst into the room, I thought I was dreaming!" Nicco confessed with a chuckle. "When did you become such a badass?"
Rafael knew his brother was trying to make light of the situation, but he saw the pain in his eyes, heard the strain in his voice. He lobbed an arm around his hunched shoulders to let him know everything was going to be okay. Rafael heard police sirens wailing and knew help was on the way. Demetri must have heard the gunshots and called the police.
Expelling a deep breath didn't calm Rafael's nerves, didn't erase the violent images in his mind. His clothes were torn and bloody, but the nightmare was finally over. Everything he held dear was still safe and secure, and that was all that mattered.
Chapter 22
Rafael wasn't kidding when he said his extended family was large and boisterous, Paris thought, glancing around the dining room at Dolce Vita Miami. She'd never seen so many tall, dark and handsome men in one place, and marveled at how attractive Rafael's cousins were.
The past twenty-four hours were a blur, the scariest of her life, and as she stood at the bar listening to Jariah and Angela discuss the bridal showcase they'd attended weeks earlier, Paris found her thoughts wandering. I can't believe Rafael took on a crazed gunman by himself. What was he thinking?
She raised her cocktail glass to her lips and sipped her Shirley Temple. Yesterday, after a fun-filled day of shopping with Jariah and Angela, she'd returned to Nicco's Coral Gables home to find police cruisers, ambulances and news trucks parked in the driveway. Minutes later in the kitchen, Rafael and Nicco had recounted their terrifying ordeal with Tye Caldwell.
Mr. and Mrs. Morretti had arrived a little past noon, and after several rounds of hugs and kisses, they'd decided to release a statement to the press. Since there was significant damage to the second floor of the estate, Mr. Morretti had called his nephew, Realtor to the stars Dante Morretti, and arranged to rent a six-bedroom waterfront mansion for the rest of the month.
"Paris, are you okay?" Jariah asked, squeezing her forearm. "You look upset."