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Raphael Caruso stood on the deck of the thirty-foot boat Antonio had rented, his gaze fixed on the couple lounging on the terrace. For over two hours, he’d observed them, mapping out the positions of their security detail. Four agents in total: two men, two women. The largest man would pose a significant threat in hand-to-hand combat, but as Antonio always said, brute strength was no match for a gun.
Raphael's impatience simmered just beneath the surface. The plan seemed simple enough: move the boat closer to the shore, slip onto the property, and eliminate everyone. But their informant had warned them about the extensive surveillance system. Cameras covered the property, monitored around the clock by the agents. A stealth attack in broad daylight was out of the question.
In a few weeks, Mr. and Mrs. Fox would retreat to their island, presenting the perfect opportunity. They would be isolated, vulnerable. Raphael smiled, peering through his binoculars at the couple. Ryleigh Stewart was a stunning woman, and the thought of getting his hands on her before ending her life was a delicious fantasy.
Raphael nearly laughed aloud at the image of tying up Oliver Fox and having his way with Ryleigh while her husband watched, powerless to help. He envisioned the moment he would finally put a bullet in both their heads, marking the start of his resurgence.
Freedom was close, tantalizingly so. By the time their bodies were discovered, he’d be back in New York, blending into the urban chaos. There was only one loose end: Officer Tyler Barnes. Barnes knew about Raphael's involvement in Robert Stewart’s murder, but thankfully, he didn't know who the man in the video was. Raphael intended to keep it that way.
Meanwhile, Antonio was closing in on Jonah Fox. He had to be eliminated before his brother’s wedding, ensuring the Fox family’s complete eradication. They were trouble, all of them, even Oliver Fox Senior. Antonio had taken care of him and his wife, bringing things full circle.
Raphael’s grip tightened on the binoculars as he watched Ryleigh laugh at something Oliver said. The anticipation of the coming weeks, the culmination of their plan, made his heart race. Soon, very soon, the Fox legacy would be nothing more than a dark memory.
Chapter 6
After the July Fourth weekend, the days slipped by so quickly that I could barely remember how I spent the time leading up to the last Saturday before our wedding. We had decided on separate bachelor and bachelorette parties, even though Oliver was initially resistant. I promised him we could meet up at one of his clubs at the end of the night.
I stood in front of my closet, wrapped in a short pink robe, contemplating what to wear for the evening. My bridal party—Sadie, Diane, Lisa, my high school friend Darla, and my college friend Laura—were all ready for a night out.
Raquel and Brenda would be our escorts, ensuring we were safe as we made our way around town. Meanwhile, my brothers—Wilmer, Ivan, and Dax—would be hanging out with Oliver at some cigar bar in the financial district, indulging in brandy and expensive cigars in a private, leather-furnished room.
I wrinkled my nose when Oliver told me about his plans. It sounded like something an old man would do. I chose a short black dress with spaghetti straps that hugged my body like a glove. I decided against a bra since it would ruin the dress's lines; my breasts were firm and high enough without it. I was slipping on a pair of black mesh panties when Oliver walked into the closet.
“No bra?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t need a bra. It ruins the lines,” I replied, smoothing the dress down to my mid-thigh.
He watched me intently, and before I realized it, he was behind me, cupping my breasts and sliding his thumbs over my nipples. They tightened under his touch, pushing against the fabric of my dress.
“I hope no one turns you on tonight,” he murmured.
“Who would do that? I’m only turned on by you,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Look at your nipples. You can see everything.”
“You cannot. You can see an outline of them,” I retorted, gently pushing his hands away.
I went to the bathroom to apply my makeup, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. Oliver could be so possessive at times, and I didn't understand why. I was his, completely and utterly. No other man could turn my head.
I applied my makeup lightly, knowing it would probably melt off by the time I came home. That was when Oliver loved me best—when I was sweaty and softened after hours on the dance floor or at the gym.
As I finished getting ready, I thought about the night ahead. It was a celebration, a last hurrah before becoming Mrs. Fox. Despite Oliver's possessiveness, I knew he trusted me.
And as much as I looked forward to the party, I couldn't wait to see him at the end of the night, to feel his arms around me, knowing that I was his and he was mine…forever.
When I emerged from the bathroom, he was seated on the bed, dressed to perfection in black jeans, a lavender dress shirt, and a black tie. He looked irresistible, but with the limo arriving in ten minutes, there was no time to indulge my desire.
"Vlad’s on his way to pick up Lisa and Diane," I informed him as I adjusted my dress. "Laura’s close to Sadie, so I’ll be the last one he gets."
“Lisa and Diane are staying at The Diamond Square?” Oliver asked, smoothing his tie.
"Yes, you were very generous to rent them a suite," I replied, glancing at the clock.
“Where are we meeting up, and what time?” he inquired.
“I thought it was at Ceiling?”
“Just confirming. What time?”
