A pause.
“If you wish, you may come and witness his execution.”
I wanted to speak. To beg him not to kill Bruno. To make him see reason.
But I stopped myself.
That wasn’t how this world worked. Not his world. Not mine anymore.
Betrayal wasn’t debated here. It was punished.
So I forced the words out quietly.
“Alright.”
I turned to leave.
But I barely took a step.
He moved faster than I expected.
One moment I was turning away—already trying to escape the weight of the charged air between us—and the next, he was there again.
Closing the distance with that silent precision that always made resistance feel less like a choice... and more like an illusion.
His hand caught my arm, not harshly, but firmly enough to stop me.
Then he shifted.
In a fluid motion, he guided me back until my back met the wall.
His body followed immediately after, large and solid, caging me in without actually trapping me.
One hand rested beside my head against the wall, the other settled at my waist—steadying.
And then I felt him.
Pressed against me.
The hard length of him straining through his trousers, heat and tension coiled tightly beneath expensive fabric, brushing against me in a way that sent a sharp, involuntary pulse through me.
My breath caught.
Rafael lowered his head slightly, his lips close enough that every word brushed my skin before I even fully heard it.
“Last night...” he murmured, his voice low and rough against my ear.
His arms tightened around me, one hand slowly tracing the curve of my spine. “You loved it, didn’t you?”
I shifted in his embrace, pressing closer despite myself.
My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could feel it. Still, I didn’t answer right away.
He let out a soft, amused breath that stirred my hair.
“Because I did,” he confessed, the words warm and unguarded.
His fingers slipped beneath my chin, gently tilting my face up until our eyes met. “I loved every second. Every sound you made. Every way you gave yourself to me.”
