He swallowed once, the only sign of discomfort, before looking away.
When his eyes returned to mine, they were flat.
“I have things to attend to,” he said simply.
No denial. No challenge.
He turned on his heel, movements as controlled and elegant as ever, and slipped off his coat.
The fabric whispered as he hung it neatly on the polished wooden stand beside his desk.
Then he disappeared into his office without another word, closing the door with a soft, final click that echoed louder than any slam could.
I stood there long after he disappeared into his office.
The silence he left behind was worse than any shout.
I had thrown Vincenzo’s name at him like a grenade—my brother, the man who could burn empires to ash—and Rafael had simply... walked away.
No “No one will take you from me.” No flash of possessive fire in those dark eyes.
Just that strange, unbearable silence.
Why?
Why was I falling for him more with each passing day?
When had my heart become so stupid, so traitorous?
When had that happened?
Somewhere between the snow.
The hospital.
The surgery.
The nights he held me together when I was falling apart.
I had fallen in love with him.
The realization settled over me with a quiet kind of horror.
Because Rafael did not deserve it.
And worse—
He did not want it.
And yet I couldn’t stop.
I pressed a hand to my chest, where the ache bloomed sharp and unrelenting, like a bruise that never healed.
He doesn’t love you. He never will.
The truth tasted like blood.
I wanted to scream it at myself until it stuck.
