Fulfilling Fate - Book 3

Chapter 7 - The Heat Between Us

Asimina

The name Roberto leaves my lips, and Raffaele's body stiffens, his eyebrows frown as he glares back. Clenching his jaw, he seizes my wrist and rips my hold off his face. "Fucking cunt!" He spits. Failing to contain any of his anger, he jumps to his feet. Spinning my stool around, he cages me between him and the bench. I know his anger is not directed at me, but I will be receiving end as I give out the story's details.

"Start from the begin," his voice lowers dangerously and demands.

Taking a breath, I nod. His grip on either side of me tightens. "After we danced. I went to freshen up." Looking down at the fingers, my mind races through the night, remembering every detail to relay it. "Camila ran into me. She was terrified."

I remember the woman. Her body shook uncontrollably; her tears were relentless as she frantically looked around. "She forced a scrunched-up piece of paper in my hands and ran away as fast as she could." Evicting the clog in my throat, I glance at Raffaele; he hasn't moved a muscle. Those intimidating, dark browns orbs haven't faltered. His rage is evident. The heat from his internal blaze radiates off him.

"She warned me. Raffaele. Because of her, I was able to come up with a plan. The note said Roberto issued the contract. There were too many failed attempts on me already. So, they turned it on our son. He knew that if Nathan died, I would not survive it. Eventually, I would wither away."

He's furiously breathing as he inches closer to my face, seething, "I had Nathan protected Asimina. He was safe!"

"Two of Tommy's assassins accepted the fucking contract on Nathan," I spit back. This situation is different from the miscarriage. I have held my son, feed him, bathed him. I watched him grow to a one-year-old boy. I am positive I will not survive if I was to lose Nathan. The heart-wrenching pain shatters you into a million pieces. I go from zero to a hundred in an instant. "If they failed to take a hit on me, our son would have paid the price. They were waiting for the call."

He stands ridged, the vein in his neck pulsates; his eyes don't blink. He's terrifying, and any sane person would be petrified. However, I stand my ground. I know I did the best I could in that situation.

"Which fucking assassins?" He froths.

"I don't know their names. The note said—the two brothers."

"Fuck," balling his hands into fists, his knuckles turn white. Shutting his eyes, his breathing is erratic, spinning around, the wall becomes his release. Delivering punch after punch, his white knuckles are painted red as they split. "You should of fucking given me the note," he bellows.

My anger spikes. Does he think I wanted to stand on a stage and get fucking shot, be away from him, my family, and my son? I meet his murderous stare; his face flares and the Beast of a man struggle as he grits his teeth.

"I had six fucking minutes Raffaele. I called Petro. I was going to stand on that stage regardless. It was my cousin who helped me and made sure the shot wasn't fatal."

"Petro?" He repeats, capturing my arms.

"Yes. Just as he's always done, he stepped in and made my impulsive—half-assed plan into a tangible one!" Ripping his hold off me.

"Why the fuck didn't you come to me?" His voice echos in the concrete walls.

"Because you would've stopped me." My tears break-through. My body shakes. I struggle with the invisible noose around my neck. "You would have thought you could save us both. The truth is Raffaele. There was no way you could get to our son in six fucking minutes!" My voice breaks, hysteria engulfs me.