Rafe Sadler Novels & Stories

she murmured, gazing up at me with a furrowed brow. I gave her a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Just drained.” She nodded, her expression sympathetic. “I know. But it’s over now, right?” Releasing a long sigh, I said, “I think it is. I think Ralph is serious about wanting to be in Megan’s life someday. I’ve offered him a path for that to potentially happen. If he’s smart, he’ll stay on it.” “I think he will,” Sadie murmured. “For all the terrible things he’s done, I think he really does love her. Deep down, he wants the best for her…and that’s us.”

There was a longer pause this time. "I have someone," Rafael said. "His name is Dante Reyes. He's been with me six years and he's the best tactical mind I've got. And I'm including you in that." "You're flattering me." "I'm not, actually," he said. "I need you to hear it so you take him seriously when he gets there, because he's not going to defer to you on everything and you're going to want to throw him out the first day. Don't do that."

"Me, Natalia, probably Sloane too if she'd admit it" I grabbed my water bottle, drank half of it and I didn't look at him. Rafe wasn’t just someone that trained with my men, he is a friend also. Rafe left around ten thirty, said something about meeting his girlfriend for lunch. I stayed and I did another circuit, my legs this time, squats and lunges til my thighs were screaming again, then I moved to core work, planks and crunches and that thing where you hold yourself up on the bars.

"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."

Raffaele was a muscular 6'2" tall handsome man with a charming smile and a character that made any girl beg for his attention. The bonus the girls got with his looks was his psychopathic personality. Raffaele looks down at the water hitting the wooden wall at the edge of the docks. He enjoyed the small things in life and watched them intensely. Things like the sunrise, the spider building a cobweb, rain hitting the ground, etc. The simplest things put his chaotic mind to rest. "It's so peaceful and easy to work without your menace," says Salvador, Raffaele's father. "Hmm..." That is all Raffaele responds. "Where is your stupid smile? It's been three weeks since she left. Are you still sad th

The man looked down at some papers he had in his hands. “How old are you Sadie?” “I’m eighteen and I just had a baby.” She said. The man looked at Julie. “Your Jacob Colemen?” He asked me. “Yes, sir,” I said. “Is this your child?” “Yes, sir,” I said again. “How old is your child?” He asked. “Two days,” I said and he looked over at the other man. They both looked up at doctor Kim. “And you are?” The man asked her. “I’m Sadie’s doctor, Doctor Riley Kim and I know this woman is not mentally unstable.”

If I have another, I'll never hear the end of it from Roxie. As I wait for the drinks, someone else comes up to the bar. When I look up, I find it's Luca's next youngest brother, Raphael - or Rafe, as his family usually calls him. Rafe is pretty darn different from his older brothers. While Dante and Luca are opposites in terms of temperament, they're both polished when it comes to their public personas. Rafe, on the other hand, is the black sheep of the family. With his shaved head and tattoos, he looks more like he belongs in a motorcycle gang than in Hollywood's royal family. And he's definitely forging his own career path - though he's done some acting like everyone else in his family, h

Raf’s confession left Saraya stunned. To be continued…

something in me hesitated. That hesitation cost three lives. Now he sits below my feet, reminding me of every choice I can’t undo. I pour a glass of whiskey I won’t drink and turn back to the monitors. On-screen, Rafe sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it’s the only thing that still believes him. I remember the night he joined the family—barely twenty, reckless, sharp-eyed. I taught him to shoot, to negotiate, to survive. He learned too well.

Mira said, not moving her lips much. "Rafe. He's the Sergeant at Arms." "What does that mean?" "It means he is extremely capable and moderately dangerous and has a sense of humor that will either charm you or exhaust you." Mira watched Rafe walk toward them with the open easy stride of a man who was pleased to encounter new people. "What if it does both?" Mira said. "Then you're in trouble," Sloane said. "Welcome to the club."