"What would work as proof?" I ask.
Enzo's expression darkens. "A grand gesture. Something so public, so undeniable, that it removes all doubt about her commitment to this life. To you and your associates. Right now, they see her as a loose cannon, a threat to us all."
I know immediately where this is heading. "An engagement?"
"Maybe," Enzo says. "It might work if it was loud and public. The kind that makes international headlines and locks you both into this narrative permanently."
"A fake engagement's a huge problem," I say. "I doubt she’ll go along with it. If we do this, if we take it that far... there's no going back. The scrutiny, the target it puts on her, it amplifies everything tenfold."
I know I should object. Weigh the risks. Make the clean, bloodless call. But the moment I imagine her gone—really gone—something primal snaps inside me.
But even as I express my doubts, I know I’m willing to do it. I'll put a ring on her finger and claim her in front of the entire world if I need to, because the alternative is unthinkable.
I know how they work.
They'll make an example of her to their enemies. The kind that makes headlines across the world and sends an undeniable message to rivals, to informants, to anyone who might consider crossing them.
The image of her broken body, bloodied and discarded like trash is unbearable.
It's not happening.
Not ever.
"They're waiting to see what you do," Enzo adds. "They're testing you. To find out how far you’re willing to go to protect your assets. But they won’t wait much longer."
"They want to know what I'm willing to do to keep her alive? The answer's everything. I'm willing to sacrifice everything to protect her. Make sure my precise words get back to them. Make sure they hear every syllable. Make sure they understand I mean it. The day they try to harm what's mine will be the day they take their last breath."
CHAPTER 21
NIKKI
We’re still in bed when I hear the knocks. Rafe slips out of bed without a word, his warmth vanishing with him. I pull the sheet tighter around me, watching as he grabs a robe from the chair and disappears into the front room. The quiet tension in his shoulders tells me everything I need to know.
I can't hear what Enzo is saying. Not the actual words. But I can hear the tone. The kind of language that means trouble. Real trouble. Not just a little PR crisis.
I should stay quiet. My inner voice, the rare, cautious one is screaming at me to let them do their shady mafia whispering and pretend I’m just here for the scenery. But that part of me is shrinking fast. Because deep down, I already know. This is about me. And if I'm the one in danger, I have every right to hear it said out loud.
So, I grab a robe and barge right into the room. I walk towards them, ignoring Enzo's subtle shake of the head, ignoring Rafe's rigid back.
"What happened? What is going on?" I ask. My eyes dart between the two men, searching for answers.
Neither of them answers immediately. Which only makes it worse. The silence stretches, thick with danger I don’t have a name for yet.
I fold my arms across my chest. "If this is about me, I deserve to know. If my life's suddenly in danger again, and let's be honest, it probably is, I have a right to understand why. I'm not a child. Tell me."
Rafe still doesn't look at me, his gaze fixed on some point beyond Enzo's shoulder, as if I'm not even there. But Enzo does. His eyes, usually so impassive, meet mine. And whatever he sees in my face, the raw fear, the defiant demand for truth, it must register, because his lips press into a flat line, a subtle acknowledgement.
“Rafe?” I demand. “Start talking.”
"They still believe you're a liability," Rafe says. “Our plan isn’t working as well as we hoped.”
That fucking word again.Liability.Not a person. Not someone worth protecting. Just a risk.
"You said this fake relationship would protect me," I reply. The full weight of his promise, the one I'd clung to, slams into me. "You said this was the plan. You said this would make you boring and me safe. That was the deal."
"I thought it was working," he says, finally turning his head, his dark eyes fixed on mine. "Maybe they saw or heard something to make them think it wasn't real."
"What do we do?" I ask. "Or rather, what should I do? Do I need to start running? Do I have hours? Minutes? Give me something.”
