Preferring not to dwell on how it had brought up vivid memories of when she’d walked out on his father so many years ago, leaving him a broken man. He was still bitter, adamantly refusing to pay his respects to his ex-wife today despite Rafaele’s efforts to persuade him to come.
Alexio, oblivious to Rafaele’s inner tumult, shook his head and smiled wryly. ‘Unbelievable. You’ve only been in Athens for two days—no wonder you wanted to stay in a hotel and not at my apartment...’
Rafaele pushed aside the dark memories and quirked a mocking brow at his brother, about to dish out some of the same, when he saw a latecomer arrive. The words died on his lips and Alexio’s smile faded as he turned to follow Rafaele’s gaze.
A very tall, stern-faced stranger was staring at them both. And yet...he looked incredibly familiar. It was almost like looking into a mirror. Or at Alexio...if he had dark blond hair. It was his eyes, though, that sent a shiver through Rafaele. Green, much like his and Alexio’s, except with a slight difference—a darker green, almost hazel. Another take on their mother’s eyes...? But how could that be?
Rafaele bristled at this stranger’s almost belligerent stance. ‘May we help you?’ he asked coolly.
The man’s eyes flickered over them both, and then to the open grave in the distance. He asked, with a derisive curl to his lip, ‘Are there any more of us?’
Rafaele looked at Alexio, who was frowning, and said, ‘Us? What are you talking about?’
The man looked at Rafaele. ‘You don’t remember, do you?’
The faintest of memories was coming back: he was standing on a doorstep with his mother. A huge imposing door was opening and there was a boy, a few years older than him, with blond hair and huge eyes.
The man’s voice sounded rough in the still air. ‘She brought you to my house. You must have been nearly three. I was almost seven. She wanted to take me with her then, but I wouldn’t leave. Not after she’d abandoned me.’
Rafaele felt cold all over. In a slightly hoarse voice he asked, ‘Who are you?’
The man smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. ‘I’m your older brother—half-brother. My name is Cesar Da Silva. I came today to pay my respects to the woman who gave me life...not that she deserved it. I was curious to see if any more would crawl out of the woodwork, but it looks like it’s just us.’
Alexio erupted beside Rafaele. ‘What the hell—?’
Rafaele was too stunned to move. He knew the Da Silva name. Cesar was behind the renowned and extremely successful Da Silva Global Corporation. His mind boggled to think that he might have met him and not known that they were brothers. With a sickening sense of inevitability, he didn’t doubt a word this man had just said. Their fraternal similarities were too obvious. They could be non-identical triplets.
That half-memory, half-dream had always been all too real—he’d just never known for sure, because whenever he’d mentioned it to his mother she’d always changed the subject. Much in the way she had never discussed her life in her native Spain before she’d met his father in Paris, where she’d been a model.
Rafaele gestured to his brother, ‘This is Alexio Christakos...our younger brother.’
Cesar Da Silva looked at him with nothing but ice in his eyes. ‘Three brothers by three fathers...and yet she didn’t abandon either of you to the wolves.’
He stepped forward then, and Alexio stepped forward too. The two men stood almost nose to nose, with Cesar topping his youngest brother in height only by an inch.
Cesar, his jaw as rigid as Alexio’s, gritted out, ‘I didn’t come here to fight you, brother. I have no issue with either of you.’
Alexio’s mouth thinned. ‘Only with our dead mother, if what you say is true.’
Cesar smiled, but it was thin and bitter. ‘Oh, it’s true, all right — more’s the pity.’
He stepped around Alexio then, and walked to the open grave. He took something out of his pocket and dropped it down into the dark space, where it fell onto the coffin with a distant hollow thud. He stood there for a long moment and then came back, his face expressionless.
After a charged silent moment between the three men he turned to stride away and got into the back of a waiting dark silver limousine, which moved off smoothly.
Rafaele turned to Alexio, who looked back at him, gobsmacked.
‘What the...?’ he trailed off.
Rafaele just shook his head. ‘I don’t know...’
He looked back to the space where the car had been and reeled with this cataclysmic knowledge.
Copyright © 2014 by Abby Green
When Falcone’s World Stops Turning
Abby Green
‘Samantha.’ Rafaele smiled. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in? It’s cold out here.’
Sam’s hand clenched tightly around the door. Panic rushed into her blood. Finally rousing her.
‘Now isn’t a good time. I thought I made it clear that I’m not interested.’
A dull flush accentuated Rafaele’s cheekbones, but Sam was barely aware of it when she heard the high-pitched, ‘Mummy!’ which was accompanied by small feet running at full speed behind her.
She felt Milo land at her legs and could almost visualise his little round face peeping out to see who was at the door. As if she were trying in vain to halt an oncoming train, Sam said in a thready voice, ‘Now really isn’t a good time.’
Rafaele stared at Milo for what seemed like an age. He frowned and then looked as if someone had just hit him in the belly. Dazed, he glanced up at Sam and she knew exactly what he was seeing. Her eyes were wide and stricken, set in a face leached of all colour.
Panicked. Guilty.
Just like that something in his eyes turned to ice and she knew that he knew.
BLOOD BROTHERS
Power and passion run in their veins
Rafaele and Alexio have learned that to feel emotion is to be weak. Calculated ruthlessness brings them immense success in the boardroom and in the bedroom. But a storm is coming with the sudden appearance of a long-lost half-brother and three women who will change their lives for ever …
Read Rafaele Falcone’s story in: WHEN FALCONE’S WORLD STOPS TURNING February 2014
Only one woman has come close to touching this brooding Italian’s cold heart, and he intends to have her once more. But Samantha Rourke has a secret that will rock his world in a very different way…
Read Alexio Christakos’s story in: WHEN CHRISTAKOS MEETS HIS MATCH April 2014
His legendary Greek charm can get him
