Dangerous Conceit by Ali Lee
Chapter 38
It was far too silent to feel comfortable as Rafa sat on the empty bed of the once familiar hotel room where he used to stay. Halfway dressed in black slacks and dark leather shoes, he twiddled his silk tie between his fingers and thumb. Regret absorbed his mind in a mixture of conceit and self-loathe.
He had always been a selfish bastard. Why would he involve Lexi in a life she hoped to escape? If he truly loved her at all, he would have protected her from far away as soon as he found out she was Em. He could not let her go though. He would not have let her leave if she tried. He would have never given her the choice at all. He did because he knew she would accept their ways, the rules they placed on her. Her heart belonged to him, and he used that to his advantage. It was unfair to make her think she had a say, but he knew it was better to make her believe she had a choice. The truth would remain his and nobody would be the wiser. Lexi belonged to him—sealed by the vows they would make in a couple of hours’ time.
A light knock came at the door, which he snorted at and ignored, until a heavy pounding came again that interrupted the solitude he sought to battle his deepest thoughts. Only one person had authority to intrude despite his order for everyone to leave him in peace. That someone came through the door without waiting for him to move—Angelo.
He walked straight in, not saying a word to Rafa; he merely sat on the lush white recliner in front of the bed and folded his arms, waiting for Rafa to talk instead. He knew something bothered the man, especially when Rafa started rubbing his head.
“How do you do it? How do you find peace with yourself for what you do? Then being gone from Ella days at a time. Putting yourself in danger. Knowing there's a chance you won't come back alive…or worse—somebody killing her instead because she's your wife.”
Angelo ran his fingers through his hair. No answer could satisfy those questions, the questions that raged through the mind of every made man when it came to the women they involved in their lives. Since Rafa's initiation, the Tomassi Group became his family. These worries were unknown to him. No outside person mattered. Rafa did as he pleased. Now, Lexi and Maura came out of nowhere. He had little time to prepare.
“You know what?” Angelo started and Rafa glanced from underneath his hand. “You don't think about it. You protect them as best you can and be grateful every single day that you wake up alive.”
“And what if my best isn't good enough?”
“So what? You going to let guilt eat you alive? Is that what this is about? You second guessing the marriage now? There's no room for guilt in this sort of life, and I have lived it for all of mine.”
“I’m not second guessing the marriage,” Rafa said through his teeth. The thought of not marrying Lexi made his muscles tighten and the spite in his voice reach his eyes.
“I know what you're thinking. I get it, Rafa. You’ve never had anyone important to you outside of the group. You need this marriage as much as she does. Quit beating yourself up. It’s the right thing for both of you.” Angelo stood and walked up to him, sitting on the bed. “She isn't any less involved without you. She’d be in more danger if you didn't keep her with you—doesn’t matter if she knew you weren’t going to let her leave.”
Rafa's eyes rolled but Angelo was not having his attitude. He returned the flippant gesture and slapped Rafa hard on the cheek. Then he slapped him again, snapping Rafa out of his condemning thoughts. Rafa slowly exhaled with the lingering heat, glaring at him, wanting to punch him but settling for the restroom instead.
He stared at his reflection—all of his imperfections. He saw every man he made to beg for mercy, their pointless pleas from their bloodied bodies before he took their lives. It was such an invigorating power in a world where he had none.
The different women he used imposed on his mind, how he played them because he could, his wealth attracting them and his ego inflating near the verge of combustion. Then he remembered how he ditched them long before they woke; the sight of them provoked disgust because he knew they also used him. It went both ways with every woman he encountered. He knew he never meant anything to any of them—free drinks and lustful sex.
This feeling was more than guilt. It was hatred—for every person who ever wronged him—for every woman he ever fucked. Most of all, he repulsed himself. He did not deserve to marry the woman of his dreams, a woman who stayed true to him throughout everything; but Angelo was right. He could not think like this anymore. Lexi was the one person that accepted him for his flaws. She, at least, deserved to be happy.
Rafa cleared his mind completely, facing the reflection looking back, the dark brown eyes and swept brown hair to his neck. This was Rafa’s decisive moment—a truce with himself. Acceptance for who he was. Without another fear, no more doubts about what his future held, he grabbed his gun from the seat of his pants and stepped back.
He clicked. He aimed. He fired. The mirror shattered into millions of pieces, taking with it any previous thoughts of self-doubt. In an instant, that insecurity vanished. Nothing of it remained. He had a duty—to his group and his family. No one else mattered.
He walked back out of the restroom. Angelo looked at him with a raised brow, but Rafa answered nothing about his moment, having returned to his former self. He buttoned his shirt and flipped the tie around his neck, taking seconds to properly loop it and fold his collar down.
With barely a glance at his boss, Rafa flung his coat over his shoulder and headed for the door. “I have a woman to make my wife…who would become my wife if I didn't have a penny to my name…who thinks the world of me without the glitz. Lexi should be here any minute. I promised to meet her at the entrance and show her to the salon,” he said and casually walked out.