Pairings and characters: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos, Javi Martínez/Fernando Llorente, Javi Martínez/Raúl González, Raúl González/Fernando Torres (past), Esteban Granero, Pedro Rodríguez, Álvaro Morata, Santi Cazorla, Pep Guardiola, Asier Illarramendi, Diego Costa, Vicente Del Bosque, Diego Simeone, Nacho Fernández
Summary: Sequel to Safe and mine. While Fernando and Sergio are trying to forget about Raúl, Raúl has all but forgotten about them.
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, violence, mentions of character death
When Raúl walks in the bank in the morning, he knows immediately that something is not right. There are no clients, but the bank isn’t empty either. Men in grey suits are all over the place, and in the middle of it, Álvaro looks like the world is about to end.
“Mr. González!” he exclaims when he sees him. “The gentlemen say that they are revenue officers. They want to see all our documentation, all the accounting books...”
“Is it so?” Raúl raises his brows and looks around. “Gentlemen?”
The men stop discussing and look at him. Raúl smiles. “I am Raúl González, I own this bank. I’m told by my assistant here that you need to check my documents.”
“Yes,” one of the men says and shows Raúl his license. “We are here to investigate a denouncement that was made concerning your person and your transactions.”
“An anonymous denouncement, I suppose?” Raúl smirks.
“I am not free to disclose any details, sir. If the denouncement was unjustified, then this will be just a routine check. But if not...”
Raúl laughs shortly. Álvaro looks at him desperately. “Sir...”
“It’s all right, Álvaro,” Raúl smiles, clipping the boy on the shoulder. “Show them anything they ask for. We don’t have anything to hide, do we?”
The revelation in Álvaro’s face is almost amusing. “No, sir, we don’t,” he whispers.
“Great. Will you need me for anything, gentlemen, or can I leave you here with my assistant?”
“We won’t need you now, Mr. González,” one of the men says. “We’ll discuss the results with you when we’re done.”
“Great,” Raúl smiles. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to solve now.”
“What is it, González?” Costa barks as soon as he sits down at the table in the back room of a club. “A control in your bank? We don't need that!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Costa,” Raúl smiles. “It’s just my husband’s whim, or rather his lawyer's, but they won’t find anything.”
“I hope so!” Costa says. “I certainly don’t need anyone to check my accounts.”
“They won’t,” Raúl assures him. “I made sure your name isn’t mentioned anywhere. As for your money, it’s like it never passed through my bank.”
“All right,” Costa says, having seemingly calmed down a bit. “But if your husband sent those dogs to your bank, won’t he send any to your house?”
“And shouldn’t you mind it?”
“I shouldn’t, unless they find something I wouldn’t want them to find,” Raúl smirks and drinks the rest of his coffee. “Which they won’t.”
A nasty smirk appears on Costa’s face. “Business first, eh?”
“Always,” Raúl smiles.
When the door opens and Raúl walks in, accompanied by Flori and Esteban, a bad feeling creeps up Javi’s spine. Raúl never comes in the company of the servants. Whatever it means, it can’t be anything good.
Raúl looks around the room almost nostalgically. “It’s time to say our goodbyes, Javi,” he says casually, sitting down on the chair in the corner to rest his bad leg.
It clicks in Javi’s brain almost immediately. He jumps out of the bed and runs to the door. He almost touches the handle when Esteban and Flori grab him from behind and drag him back to the bed, trashing and screaming.
“I wish I had time to watch more of this,” Raúl says. “You amuse me. Fighting so hard for your miserable little life.”
Javi turns his head to Raúl; it’s the only movement he can make with Esteban holding him down, his knee digging in Javi’s lower back, while Flori ties his hands behind his back.
“Oh, don’t look at me like this, sweetheart,” Raúl smiles. “It makes me sad, too. I would keep you here with me if I could. But what has to be done, has to be done.”
Esteban scrambles to his feet and helps Flori pull Javi up. Raúl looks at them gets up from the chair. “Hurry up,” he says. “We can’t know when my dear husband sends the dogs here.”
“Can you manage on your own?” Esteban asks Flori like they are talking about a household chore. “I need to clean it here.”
“Sure,” Flori says curtly and drags Javi to the door.
“You know what to do,” Raúl tells him. “Get rid of him, don’t leave traces. And then I don’t want to hear about you anymore. You have enough money to start a new life, somewhere far away.”
“Yes,” Flori nods. “I’ll do it.”
Javi struggles to turn his head and look at him. “Flori, Flori, please...” he cries.
“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat right here!” Flori barks.
Raúl wants to note that he’d rather he do it elsewhere because they don’t have enough time to clean up, but in that moment, Javi hangs his head and slumps against Flori, only sobbing quietly.
Pedro is waiting in the courtyard, preparing a carriage. It’s Raúl’s other carriage, the one he never uses. Most of the time it just stands at the back of the courtyard.
“Nobody would recognize it, probably, but better get rid of it,” Pedro says while he’s tying Javi’s feet together.
“Don’t worry,” Flori says. “I’ll set it on fire, it will burn like nothing.”
“Great,” Pedro nods and pats Flori on the back. “I’ll go help Esteban. Good luck, man.”
“Thanks,” Flori smiles. “Take care.”
Pedro runs across the yard and disappears in the house. Flori grips the handle of the door. Javi gives him a pleading look. “Flori, please...” he whispers. “Promise me... promise it won’t hurt.”
Flori’s face is unreadable as always, but something flashes in his eyes, and for Javi it’s reassuring enough. “Yes,” he says in a low voice. “I promise.”