Rafael Montefalco Story Novels & Stories

"It's just that…" Rafael paused with the key in his hand and looked at the man. He saw the nervousness in his eyes, the genuine concern—the same look he saw in Mara, in Daniel, and in Maitê. Everyone was still walking on eggshells around him, as if he might break at any moment. "Have you ever ridden a bicycle?" he asked calmly. "My whole childhood, sir." "Did you ever fall off?" "I even have scars on my legs and arms."

How you survived. It's a long story, Raphael said. "We have time." They sat down. Everyone in the living room. Raphael told his story. About Costa. About being raised in Spain. Then Portugal. Then France. About the abuse. The lies. The day Costa told him the truth before he died. About killing Costa. Nobody reacted to that. They all understood. About spending four years investigating the Moretti family. Learning about Lorenzo. Watching from a distance. About finally deciding to make contact through Kyrian.

Rafa pulled a face and squinted at her. "Why take us here?" She frowned at his remarkably cool demeanor. "If you're not after money." Well, he obviously didn't need anyone else's money, if he was indeed the same Raffaele that was Anastasia's older brother. Their wealthy, full-blooded Italian family ran lucrative businesses and had properties all over Rome and Florence, as Tomek informed her the other day. "Not to sound arrogant or anything, but..." Rafa grinned and glanced away. "Money doesn't do anything for me anymore," he murmured as he touched her cheek lightly. "Just...used to it by now, if you know what I mean." He shrugged nonchalantly.

They needed money badly. His cousin, the infamous Rafael Moretti, offered to get him a job. At eighteen, with his dad bedridden and his mom, Bianca Ricci, helplessly trying to save her husband’s life, Matteo had no other option than to accept Rafael’s help. However, it was the biggest mistake of his life. Rafael introduced him to his boss, the mafia don, Alfonso di Salvo, who offered him a job and a lump sum loan to tide them over the difficult times.

“Ah! A jealous Romanov. Balance has finally returned to the world.” Rafael excused himself a few minutes later, after kissing the back of my hand with a Southern European flair far too dramatic for a business party—saying, “I must greet the ambassador from Milan. He likes to arrive late, like the truth.” Then he was off, floating through the crowd with the grace of a flamenco dancer disguised as a businessman.

Commander Kalanga had fought many battles at NAMPOL with the Namibian police force. Raffaele’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. “Monica… if she pulls through—” “When she pulls through,” I corrected him again. He inclined his head. “When she pulls through… I want answers. All of them.” “You’ll get some,” I said, “and others… you might wish you didn’t ask for it.” Maria returned with two cups of water, shoving one into Raffaele’s hand and pressing the other toward me. “Drink. You’re both shook up.”

"The old man's name is Mateo Lombardi, an old Italian man, a friend of my wife's father. Rafa's father owed that older man a lot of money, and he wanted Rafa as the payment. The Jones family lived across from our residence. Our fathers were friends. When my father was murdered, I became closer to their family, and Rafa's father was like a father figure to me at the age of 14. So when I learned about his dilemma, I offered to marry his daughter Rafa at that time, barely 18. And after that, her father committed suicide."

“He gave the second key…” My pulse pounded in my ears. “…to the only Montefalco he believed would destroy the family if necessary.” Sebastian’s voice was barely a whisper. “You.” Rafael smiled. “Yes.” And suddenly everything became clear. This wasn’t just about money. Or revenge. This was about control. And Rafael Montefalco had just proven he held half the power. But before anyone could speak again— One of the men behind Rafael suddenly raised his gun. And pointed it directly at Sebastian.

He sighs. "Why would someone want to shoot you?" "It wasn't the first time and it probably won't be the last." Unsatisfied that he keep dodging my question, I sat up and turned to face him. "Rafael, please tell me what's going on. I want the truth." I stared at him. He sighed and struggled to sit himself up. "I'm the heir to The Montez Mafia. I take the seat after my father steps down."

(Please) Domenico chuckled darkly, “ Cosi ha fatto mia sorella. But they killed her anyway.” (So did my sister.) Then, the other line was silent for a while, and Gianni broke. “Rafael is behind everything,” he blurted. “He ordered it. He told me to sell your crates, he's the real mastermind behind this. I only wanted my money, and nothing says I can't entertain the idea of your death." Domencio and Lucian exchanged a quick glance.