Maybe longer.
Rafael closed his eyes.
There was only one option left. The one man he swore he’d never ask. The one debt he never wanted to owe. The one bastard he’d spent months avoiding.
Slowly, Rafael reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone. His bloodied thumb hovered over the contact. For a second, his pride fought him.
Then he thought of Amara again. And pride became meaningless.
He pressed call.
One ring.
His jaw tightened.
Two rings.
His fingers curled tighter around the phone.
Three.
A deep, lazy voice answered. “Well…” A low chuckle. “To what do I owe this miracle?”
Rafael shut his eyes briefly. Swallowed every ounce of pride he had left. “I need a favor.”
On the other side of the line, a chair scraped against the floor. And a familiar laugh echoed through the speaker. “Well, brother…” The man drawled. “This…” Sound of gun fire hit him before the man muttered darkly. “…should beinteresting.”
Rafael shut his eyes for half a second. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to hang up. To deal with this alone. To be Rafael De Luca, the man who needed no one.
“I need… a place to stay.”
There was complete silence. Not even breathing on the other end. Rafael swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Admitting it out loud,actuallyhearing the words leave his mouth, made it real.
Made him realize just how far things had spiraled. “There’s… a situation.”
His fingers tightened around the phone. His knuckles whitening. “I’ll explain later.”
Rafael forced the words out. “For a few months…” His jaw flexed. “…I need you to keep Amara safe.”
And just like that, the world on the other end went dead silent. Rafael stared through the glass window at Amara, watching her tilt her head slightly as a nurse handed her a glass of water—like a curious child trying to understand a world she no longer recognized.
His chest twisted. He knew what was coming. Knew Kaelith would question him. Mock him. Maybe even refuse. And still, he waited. Because for the first time in his life, Rafael wasn’t calling as a rival. Or as a brother. Or as a man too proud to bend. He was calling as someone desperate. As someone who had run out of options.
When Kaelith spoke again, Rafael felt the temperature around him drop. The man’s voice had changed. “What…” Dangerously quiet. “…happened to her?”
Rafael’s throat tightened. His eyes remained fixed on Amara. A slow breath left him. “Before I tell you…” His voice cracked slightly, though he hated that it did. “Promise me.” His grip on the phone tightened until his healing cuts reopened.
A thin line of blood slid down his knuckles. And Rafael barely felt it. “Promise me…” His eyes darkened. “…that no matter what you hear, you’ll protect her.”
???
CHAPTER 2
"How are you feeling now?" She looked up at the man towering over her. His soft brown eyes looked down at her with concern lacing them, lips curled up in a small welcoming smile. Her eyes lowered down to his body, he was wearing a dark blazer over his white shirt and faded blue jeans, a brown leather belt and black formal shoes.
"Better," Amara muttered cringing at the way her voice sounded weak, feeling scratchiness in her throat. It had been a few hours since she regained consciousness, but every time she stressed her mind to think, a jolting pain rippled through the nerves that made her head pound.
"Do you feel any pain?" Rafael looked genuinely concerned as she shook her head. Except for the physical pain in her knees, legs arms and ribs, she could not feel anything. Strange how even her emotions were perfectly hidden. She did not know what to do. Was she supposed to freak out? Cry? Call for someone? What happened? Who was she? A thousand questions bombarded her.
