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As I close my eyes, letting the peace of the moment envelop me. Rafael’s touch is tender, reverent almost, as he washes me.
Every stroke of the sponge, every glide of his hands, speaks of his desire to protect, to cherish. It’s a side of him I’m only just beginning to understand, and it draws me to him, deepening the connection between us.
When he reaches for the shampoo, his fingers brush against my scalp, massaging gently, coaxing sighs of contentment from my lips.
“You have beautiful hair,” he comments, his tone admiring, as he works the lather through the strands.
I laugh softly, the sound echoing lightly in the tiled room. “You’re just saying that because you have to wash it out now.”
He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “Maybe,” he admits, “but it’s still true.” The care with which he rinses my hair, ensuring not a single sud irritates my eyes, makes me feel cherished like I never have before.
“Relax a while,” he says, getting to his feet. “Come find me when you’re done.”
After what feels like an eternity, I emerge from the bath, wrapped in a plush towel that smells faintly of Rafael.
I find him sitting by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand, the flames casting a warm glow over his features.
He looks up as I enter, his gaze carrying a question, an offer to share, or to simply sit in silence together.
“I didn’t know you had it in you,” I find myself saying as I take the seat opposite him, a feeble attempt at lightening the mood. “To run a perfect bath like that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me some things.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What was life like growing up? Did you always live here?”
“Manhattan born and bred. My father headed up the Bianchi family business before me, and he did it well, but he could be a bastard at home.”
I look at him closely. “Somehow, I figure you don’t only run a car dealership.”
“That’s very astute. I do have other concerns, shall we say? My father was a respected Don, and he taught me a lot.”
“Don?”
“Means boss. He showed me the difference between strength and power. I saw people around the city, frightened, making mistakes because they felt cornered.
It taught me the importance of using power responsibly, not as a means to dominate but to protect and uplift. The people who work for me know that I am a good boss. They needn’t fear me as long as they don’t cross me.”
“And your father was the same?”
He nods. “There was a friend of mine when I was a teenager. Almost lost his business to a loan shark. I wanted to kill the asshole causing the problem.
“My father negotiated with another Don, saved my friend’s store, and had the asshole sent out to Vegas. Showed me that true strength lies in the outcome you secure for others, not for yourself.”
“Very interesting but you haven’t answered my question.”
“The loan shark came back. He didn’t survive twenty-four hours. Does that answer your question?”
“So you’re a murderer.”
“I’m the boss of a business. Showing weakness in my world often invites trouble, but that doesn’t mean you can’t show compassion. It’s a delicate balance, one I continue to navigate.
“Your father attends a casino run by a Russian rival of mine called Victor Ivanov. If he continues to cause problems, it will lead to conflict between my business and Ivanov’s. That cannot be allowed to happen. Business must flow if we are to make money.”
“That all you care about?”
