"You come near her again," I whisper, kneeling down so he sees my eyes, so he understands the absolute, unyielding truth of my words. "You so much as look in her direction, you or anyone connected to your pathetic family, I'll make this look like foreplay. I'll gut you with a knife. Slowly. And then I'll do the same to every man who's ever shared a meal with you. Do you understand? Do you comprehend the depth of the vengeance I'll unleash on you?"
Then I stand. I don't finish him. Not yet. I want him to live. To suffer. To remember this night every single day of his miserable life. To spread the word. To be a living testament to my fury.
Nikki is not leverage. She's not a disposable asset. She's mine. Anyone who forgets that dies screaming. Or worse.
Letting them live with regret is more effective than any bullet to the head.
The war's begun.
And I'll burn their world to the ground to keep her safe.
CHAPTER 29
NIKKI
Idon’t sleep. Not a wink. My body’s a live wire, buzzing with anxiety and adrenaline and whatever the hell you call that horrible cocktail of panic-lust-what-the-fuck. I don’t even sit. I just pace the villa barefoot like a haunted house ghost, wearing one of Rafe’s silk shirts because apparently, I’m a walking cliché. The hem barely covers my thighs. When he comes home, he can see what he left behind.
If he comes home.
That thought almost takes me to my knees every ten minutes. I keep picturing him bleeding out somewhere, shirt torn, eyes blank, that stillness that only comes with death. Then I imagine him covered in someone else’s blood, victorious and unrepentant. And then I cry. And then I fantasize about sitting on his face.
So yeah. Mentally unstable, party of one.
He left without a word. No “stay inside.” No “I’ll be back.” Just vanished like a shadow and took all the warmth with him. But I know exactly where he went. I saw it in his eyes, that look that says someone’s about to regret their entire bloodline.
He didn’t go to cool off.
He went to end someone.
And the worst part?
The shameful, messed-up, twisted little truth?
A part of me liked it. Liked being the reason someone had to die. Liked being the trigger that made a man like Rafe snap.
What the hell does that say about me?
My phone stays stubbornly silent, the screen taunting me every time I check it. No calls. No texts. Not even a fucking emoji. Just me, pacing the villa like a woman waiting to hear if the man she loves is dead.
The door bangs open, rattling the frame. He’s here. His shirt, what’s left of it, hangs in tatters, and a crimson stain streaks across his collar. Too much fucking blood. For one heart-stopping second, I can’t tell if it’s his. My stomach lurches, and I want to scream at him and kiss him, all at once.
I stumble back, my hand gripping the armrest of the sofa, knuckles white. “Is that your blood? Please, God, tell me it’s not your blood.”
He kicks the door shut, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the living room. His eyes, when they meet mine, are dark, haunted. He looks like a man who just tasted vengeance and found it’s not quite sweet enough to wash down the bile.
“Was it worth it?” I demand, my voice a raw whisper. “Disappearing without a word? Leaving me to wonder if you were dead, if I’d ever see you again? Did it make you feel better? Did it fucking help?”
His jaw tightens. A long, agonizing beat stretches between us before he answers, his voice a low growl. “Yes. Every fucking second of it was absolutely worth it.”
I suck in a sharp breath. The air feels too thick to breathe.
“Because he touched you,” he continues, his voice laced with an edge of pure venom. “Because he was there to harm you, because he thought he could. And I needed him, and everyone else, to learn what happens when they try.”
The way he says it… like touching me is a death sentence. Like I’m something sacred, something untouchable.
Somethinghis.
I take a step forward, my bare feet cold against the marble floor, closing the distance between us. “Did he bleed?” I ask. It’s fucked up, I know, but I need to hear the proof. I need to know he suffered.
