The room shrinks. His presence presses in from all sides. I want to tell him he’s wrong—but my voice has abandoned me. The only thing I can think to do is move away from him.
“Wife?”
“You think you have a choice?” he asks, closing the gap. “Your father, my father … they’ve conspired. And I—” His heat makes it real.
I press my hands to my chest, trying to steady my heart. “My father …”
“They planned this,” he interrupts, tilting my face gently with a hand. “Both families, united. You are my bride tonight and together will will stop years of bloodshed.”
The weight of it crashes into me. My life, orchestrated like a symphony, and I, the centerpiece. Fear and desire clash, a dizzying cocktail I cannot escape.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, thumb brushing my cheek. “Exactly what they wanted. Exactly whatIwant.”
I want to pull away. But I cannot. The gravity of him, the danger, the controlled presence… it roots me to the spot.
His lips meet mine again, slower and more deliberate. Raphael ignites a spark I cannot deny. Barriers crumble under his attention. His hands on my waist, holding, firm but not crushing, chest rising and falling against mine. My confusion melts into something fiery, dizzying and undeniable.
When he breaks the kiss, breath warm against mine, he whispers, “Tonight, every part of you is mine. In return, you will be safe … but you will obey. That is the balance.”
My chest rises and falls, heart hammering. I want to argue, to scream, to flee—but the magnetic pull, the undeniable connection, holds me captive.
“I … I don’t know if I can,” I admit.
“I know,” he murmurs. “But tonight, there is no choice. You are my bride. And I will claim you, in every way, as is my right.”
Stumbling back, I’m desperate for control, for air, for reason. He watches, calm, unshaken, every inch the man whispered about—the killer, the enforcer, dangerous and precise. Nothing like the man I met a year ago who kissed me until I was dizzy and made me feel special.
Raphael brushes a thumb along my cheek, tracing my jaw. My knees threaten to buckle, but he holds me, steady, syncing with my pulse.
“Raphael …” I breathe, trembling.
“Yes?” His eyes darken, intensity unmatched.
“When … when does this … marriage … start?”
He tilts his head, ghost of a smile teasing his lips. “In an hour. Everything is arranged.”
The words crash over me. My mind freezes, heart hammering violently. I want to scream, to run, to fight—but I can’t.
Not yet.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter Five
Raphael
Walking beside Sophia, her hand brushes against mine for the briefest moment, and I feel the heat flicker under my skin. The night air is thick with tension, and I can hear the faint hum of voices and from outside the mansion. I knock on the door to her father’s study, open it and usher her inside. Sophia glances at me as I close the door.
Her voice is loud as she says, “Father! You cannot—this is insane! I won’t—”
I freeze, listening to her protests, the anger, the fear, and something else—determination. She’s sharp, unbroken, and I admire that in her.
Tonight is going to happen whether she wants it to or not. I begin to think about how I can make this easier for her.
Closing my eyes for a heartbeat, I then let them drift across the party outside. And they land on Maria, in her Ursula costume. She’s laughing at something Gabriel says. And Gabriel—my brother—leaning in, completely smitten. They’re both flirting so openly it’s almost vulgar, and yet I can’t help the corner of my mouth lifting.
I stalk across the lawn, my presence drawing their attention. Maria turns first. Her smile falters when she sees me, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
