His Father, My Lover

Chapter 3.

Chapter 3: Checkmate in the Dark

Rafael’s voice slices through the quiet of my penthouse, his gun catching the dim light as he steps closer. My own weapon’s still in my hand, pointed at his chest, but my pulse is a war drum. He’s not supposed to be here not at 1 a.m., not with that look in his gray eyes, like he’s already three moves ahead. The city hums outside, oblivious to the storm brewing in my living room. I don’t lower my gun. Not yet.

“Talk fast, Rafael,” I say, keeping my voice cold, though my skin’s prickling. “Why’re you sneaking into my place like a thief?”

He doesn’t flinch, just tilts his head, that damn smile tugging at his lips. “A thief? Juliette, I’m your fiancé. Or did you forget our little chat last night?”

“Fiancé?” I scoff, stepping closer, my gun steady. “That was a proposal, not a done deal. And you didn’t answer my question. Why. Are. You. Here?”

He lowers his gun slowly, tucking it into his waistband like it’s no big deal. His suit’s rumpled, a rare crack in his polished armor, and it makes me wonder what’s got him rattled. “Nico,” he says, his voice dropping to a growl. “I know he was here. What did he tell you?”

My stomach twists. How does he know? I keep my face blank, years of practice kicking in. “You’re spying on me now? That’s a bold move, even for you.”

Rafael steps closer, too close, his cedar cologne wrapping around me like a trap. “I don’t need spies to know my son’s back. The streets talk, Juliette. And they’re saying he’s gunning for both of us.”

I laugh, sharp and bitter. “Your son’s always been a problem. Why’s it my mess to clean up?”

“Because you’re the one sitting in his chair,” Rafael snaps, his calm slipping. “You took his empire. You think he’s just gonna let that slide?”

I lower my gun, but only because I need both hands to keep from throttling him. “I took what he left behind. And you didn’t exactly complain when I kept your precious Romanov name from crumbling. So what’s this really about, Rafael? You scared Nico’s gonna ruin your big plan to leash me?”

His eyes darken, and for a second, I think he’s gonna grab me. Instead, he leans in, his voice low, almost intimate. “You think I want to leash you? Juliette, I want you by my side, not on your knees. But Nico he’ll burn this city down to get what he wants. And he wants you.”

My heart stutters, but I shove it down. “He can try,” I say, matching his intensity. “But I’m not the girl he left behind. And I’m sure as hell not yours yet.”

Rafael’s smile returns, slow and dangerous. “Yet,” he echoes, like it’s a promise. “But you’ll see reason. You always do.”

I turn away, needing space, my mind racing. Nico’s with the Petrovs. Rafael’s here, playing protector or predator i can’t tell which. And the Broker’s call, that cryptic voice promising secrets, is a ticking bomb. I’m surrounded, and every move feels like stepping on a landmine.

“Get out,” I say, not looking at him. “I’ve got enough problems without you playing house.”

He doesn’t move. “You’re meeting someone tomorrow night. Pier 17. Midnight.”

I freeze, my blood icing over. How does he know about the Broker? I spin back, my gun back up. “You are spying on me.”

Rafael raises his hands, unperturbed. “I’m keeping you alive. Whoever this Broker is, they’re not your friend. Walk away, Juliette, or you’ll regret it.”

“Like I regret letting you in here?” I snap, stepping closer, my gun inches from his chest. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t pull this trigger.”

He doesn’t blink, just meets my gaze, his voice soft but steel-edged. “Because you need me. More than you want to admit.”

The air crackles, and I hate how his words hit home. I do need him for now. His name, his resources, his protection against the Petrovs. But trust? That’s a currency I don’t spend lightly.

“Get out,” I say again, and this time, he listens, slipping into the hallway like a shadow. The door clicks shut, and I’m alone again, but the weight of his words lingers.

Morning comes too fast, the city’s gray light filtering through my curtains. I barely slept, my mind tangled in Nico’s accusations and Rafael’s warnings. The Broker’s call is a wildcard, and I’m not stupid enough to walk into a trap blind. I need answers, and I need them before midnight.

I head to my warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen, where Lena’s waiting, her blonde hair pulled back, her eyes sharp as she hands me a tablet. “Got something,” she says, her voice all business. “Nico’s been busy.”

I scan the screen more photos, grainy but clear enough. Nico, meeting Viktor Petrov again, this time in a dive bar in Brooklyn. There’s another figure, hooded, impossible to ID. The Broker? My gut says yes.

“He’s moving fast,” I say, handing the tablet back. “What’s the word on the feds?”

Lena grimaces. “They’re circling. My contact says they’ve got a file on you now, not just the Romanovs. Someone’s feeding them dirt bank records, shipment logs. If it’s Nico, he’s playing a dangerous game.”

“Or Rafael,” I mutter, pacing. “He knew about the Broker. Knew I’m meeting him tonight.”

Lena’s eyes widen. “How? You think he’s got your phone tapped?”

“Maybe.” I pull out my phone, checking for bugs, but it’s clean. “Or someone’s talking. Find out who.”

She nods, already typing on her own device. “What’s your play with this Broker guy? You going to Pier 17?”

“I have to,” I say, leaning against the desk. “If he’s got dirt on Nico or Rafael, I need it. But I’m not going in blind. Get Tommy and a crew ready. I want backup, discreet.”

Lena smirks. “You’re gonna walk into a trap with a trap of your own. I like it.”

I force a grin, but it feels hollow. “Yeah, well, let’s hope I don’t blow us all up.”

The day’s a grind meetings with my lieutenants, rerouting shipments to dodge Petrov attacks, and checking security feeds for any sign of Nico. By evening, I’m back at Rafael’s mansion for his damn dinner, my nerves frayed but my game face on. I wear a black dress that hugs my curves, a knife strapped to my thigh beneath the silk. If this is a power play, I’m dressing the part.

Rafael greets me at the door, his suit pristine, that red pocket square like a drop of blood. “You look stunning,” he says, his voice warm, but his eyes are calculating.

“Save the flattery,” I say, brushing past him into the dining room. It’s all candlelight and crystal, a stage set for seduction or betrayal. “Let’s get this over with.”

He chuckles, following me. “Always so direct. It’s one of your charms.”

We sit, and the food’s exquisite steak, wine, the works but I barely taste it. Rafael’s too calm, too in control, and it’s making my skin crawl. “So,” I say, cutting into my steak, “you gonna tell me why you’re so sure Nico’s a threat? Or you just jealous he’s back?”

Rafael’s fork pauses, his eyes locking onto mine. “Jealous? Of my son?” He laughs, but it’s tight. “Nico’s a liability. Always has been. He’s reckless, Juliette. He’ll drag you down with him.”

“Funny,” I say, leaning forward. “He says you’re the one who sold him out. Paid the Petrovs to grab him. That true?”

Rafael’s face doesn’t change, but his knuckles whiten around his glass. “He’s lying. Or delusional. The Petrovs took him because he was weak. I didn’t need to pay them to see that.”

I study him, searching for the lie, but he’s too good. “Then why’s he meeting with Viktor Petrov? And why’s someone feeding the feds intel on us?”

His eyes narrow. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’m always busy,” I snap. “Answer the question.”

Rafael sets his glass down, leaning back. “Nico’s desperate. He’ll ally with anyone to get back what he lost. As for the feds, I’m looking into it. But you need to stay away from this Broker. He’s dangerous.”

I laugh, cold and sharp. “You’re all dangerous. Difference is, I’m not scared.”

He leans forward now, his voice low, almost a growl. “You should be. You’re playing a game you don’t fully understand.”

“Then explain it,” I challenge, my heart pounding. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

He holds my gaze, and for a moment, I think he’s gonna spill. Then he smiles, smooth as ever. “In time, Juliette. For now, just trust me.”

“Trust you?” I push my plate away, standing. “I don’t trust anyone. Especially not a man who sneaks into my house with a gun.”

He stands too, closing the distance between us. “And yet you’re here. Why is that?”

I don’t answer, because I don’t know. His presence pulls at me, a dangerous gravity I can’t ignore. But I’m not falling not yet.

Midnight finds me at Pier 17, the old warehouse looming like a ghost ship in the dark. The air smells of salt and rust, the Hudson lapping at the docks. Tommy’s crew is hidden nearby, ready to move if this goes south. My gun’s tucked under my jacket, my knife a familiar weight against my thigh. The Broker’s waiting, and I’m ready to play his game on my terms.

A figure steps out from the shadows, hooded, his voice the same smooth drawl from the phone. “You’re punctual, Black Widow.”

“Talk,” I say, keeping my distance. “You said you’ve got secrets. Spill.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, his face still hidden. “Patience. You want to know about Nico? He’s not just working with the Petrovs. He’s their puppet. And Rafael? He’s been playing you longer than you think.”

My heart skips. “Proof. Now.”

The Broker pulls out a flash drive, holding it up. “Bank records. Payments from Rafael to the Petrovs, dated the night Nico disappeared. And something else Nico’s deal with the feds. He’s been feeding them everything.”

I reach for the drive, but he pulls it back. “Not so fast. I want something in return.”

“What?” I snap, my hand itching for my gun.

“Your loyalty,” he says, his voice dropping. “Join me, Juliette. We can take them all down.”

I laugh, but it’s cut short by a sound footsteps, too many, closing in. My crew’s signals go silent, and I realize I’m surrounded. The Broker smiles, stepping back. “Choose fast, Black Widow. Time’s up.”

Before I can answer, a shot rings out, and the warehouse explodes into chaos. Figures in black swarm from the shadows, guns blazing. I dive behind a crate, my heart pounding as I pull my gun. Tommy’s crew is fighting back, but they’re outnumbered. The Broker’s gone, vanished like smoke.

Then I see him Nico, striding through the chaos, his scar gleaming under the flickering lights. He’s not alone. Viktor Petrov’s at his side, and they’re coming for me.

“Juliette!” Nico shouts, his voice cutting through the gunfire. “You can’t run forever!”

I raise my gun, my mind racing. The Broker’s words echo: Nico’s their puppet. Rafael’s been playing you. I’m caught in a trap, and I don’t know who set it.

“Stay back!” I yell, my voice steady despite the chaos. “Or I swear, Nico, I’ll put you down myself!”

He stops, his eyes locking onto mine, and for a second, it’s just us, the world fading away. Then he smiles, cold and cruel. “You won’t shoot me, Jules. You still love me.”

“Do I?” I say, my finger tightening on the trigger. “Let’s find out.”