I don’t want him to hear me like that. I don’t wantanyoneto.
So I just lie there, the phone still resting in my palm, my thumb brushing over the dark screen. Thinking turns into staring. Staring turns into a slow, heavy drift. And before I realize it, my eyes slide shut, and I’m asleep with the phone still clutched in my hand like a lifeline I’m too afraid to use.
The dark closes in before I’m even aware I’m dreaming. Cold metal bites into my wrists, the chain rattles in time with my heartbeat. I can’t see him, but I can smell him, that mix of cologne and smoke that remains steeped in my skin, no matter how many times I scrub.
The click of the lock is louder than thunder, and then he’s there. Roberto. Smiling like it’s our anniversary. Like this is something to celebrate. The leather collar is already in his hand.
"No…" My voice is paper-thin, useless. The chain jerks, and my knees slam into the floor. He’s talking, I can’t hear the words over the pounding in my head, and then his hands are on my throat. Squeezing. My lungs burn. Black dots bloom in the corners of my vision.
I claw at him, uselessly, until my nails rake skin. He tightens his grip, laughing. My chest feels like it’s going to split open.
And then?—
The hands are bigger.Warmer. The chest under my fists is wider. The voice in my ear is not cruel, but low, steady, urgent. "Sophia, it’s me. It’s me, bella mia. You’re safe. Breathe for me. That’s it. You’re here with me. No one’s going to hurt you again."
The smell is different now, cedar and soap instead of cologne and smoke. My hands are still fisted, but the body I’m pounding against doesn’t push back. It holds me. Surrounds me.
I break. Sobs tear out of me, each one shattering what’s left of my strength. He rocks me gently, murmuring words I can’t catch, his hand moves slowly up and down my spine until the tremors ease.
Only then do I realize I’m awake. And the tears soaking his shirt are real. I'm not in my oppressive bedroom in Roberto's house. This one is light and welcoming. I'm in Raffael's house. In Raffael's arms. I clutch his chest that's so wide it could hide me from the world. His hair is damp; he must have just gotten out of the shower, washing himself of… Roberto.
A sudden need crashes over me, so deep, so primal, it wipes out every scrap of reason, every fear that’s kept me caged. I need to feel. Not just anything.Him.
I want to feel Raffael, his warmth, his steadiness, something real enough to drown out the ghosts still clawing at me.
There’s no shirt between us. No barrier. Just the solid heat of his skin under my cheek, the steadythud of his heart telling me I’m here, I’m alive, and this is not a dream.
"Raffael." His name scrapes out of my throat, harsh, broken, like it’s been locked inside me for years.
His arms tighten around me instantly. "I’m here, bella mia," he says, the words low and certain, a promise that wraps around me as securely as his hold. "I’m always going to be here for you."
I lift my head, my eyes search frantically for his, and the need swells until I can’t breathe past it.
"Kiss me."
A deep groan escapes him. His features contort like I've tortured him for days. "Oh, Soph."
It's like he dropped a bucket full of ice water over me. Roberto was right, no man would ever want me. Not after the vile things he did to me. The vile things Iallowedhim to do to me. I don't know why Raffael came for me when he did. But it doesn't look like it was because of any kind of romantic ideas he had, at least not the kind I've been harboring for him.
"I'm sorry," I manage, scooting back.
"No." His voice is sharp enough to cut through my shame, and before I can retreat further, his hands are on me again, pulling me back into the heat of his chest.
"You don’t understand," he says, and there’s something fierce in his eyes now, something that makes my breathcatch. "I want you, Soph.More than life.I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. That hasn’t changed, not for a second. Not for a single heartbeat."
I open my mouth, but he shakes his head, cutting me off.
"But I don’t deserve you." The words are rough, like they’re being torn from somewhere deep inside him. "I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. I should have been. God help me, I should have burned the whole world down to get to you sooner."
His forehead dips until it rests against mine, his breath mingles with mine, warm and unsteady. "And I’m so—so damn sorry for it, bella mia. Sorry for every day you spent thinking you were alone. Sorry for every night I didn’t come. Sorry that you ever had to doubt your worth, when to me, you are… everything."
The tears sting hot in my eyes, and my chest tightens around the truth in his voice.
"You’re not broken, Sophia," he murmurs, his thumb brushes over my cheekbone like he’s trying to erase every scar Roberto ever left behind. "You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. And I swear to you, as long as I’m breathing, no one will ever touch you like that again."
The words settle over me like a blanket, heavy and warm. He wants me. Has wanted me. Always. "I don't understand… why won't you kiss me?"
"Because you’ve been through a trauma, something nobody should ever have to endure," he explains, "And I don’t want you to think there’s a price to pay for you being here. For me coming for you… even if it was too damn late."
