With a huff, Vittorio straightened his already impeccable jacket. "I expect this ridiculous joke of a marriage to be annulled sooner rather than later."
"Yeah," Rafe replied, his tone flat. "Don't hold your breath."
His parents entered the elevator, Sophia's spine so straight it looked painful, Vittorio's face a mask of barely controlled fury.The doors closed on their rigid silhouettes, and for a moment, no one moved.
Then Rafe furiously unlocked the penthouse door. His movements were sharp and precise, controlled in a way that suggested he was seconds from losing that control entirely.
"Rafe," I started as he pushed the door open.
He didn't respond, just strode inside and headed straight for the liquor cabinet in the living room. I followed, closing the door behind me as my mind raced with questions. Who was Gabriel? Why did the mere mention of his name affect Rafe so deeply?
Rafe poured himself three fingers of amber liquid—scotch, probably, though I couldn't tell the difference between that and bourbon to save my life—and drank half of it in one swallow.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hovering uncertainly in the doorway.
"Fine." His voice was clipped and dismissive.
"You don't seem fine."
"Well, I am." He finished the rest of his drink and poured another.
I stepped further into the room, drawn by some desperate need to understand the man I'd tied myself to. "Your parents are... intense."
A harsh laugh escaped him. "That's one word for it."
"Who's Gabriel?"
Rafe froze. Glass halfway to his lips, his entire body went scarily still. When he turned to face me, his eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them, like wells so deep you could drown in them.
"Leave it alone, Cecelia." His voice was too soft, too controlled.
"I'm just trying to understand—"
"I said leave it!" The words exploded from him, sharp enough to make me flinch. In all our confrontations, all our fights, I'd never heard him raise his voice like that—like something was breaking inside him. "Just... drop it."
He set the glass down with exaggerated care and walked past me, shoulder nearly brushing mine as he headed down the hallway toward his office.
"Rafe, wait." I hurried after him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just—"
"What part of leave it alone wasn't clear?" He whirled to face me, his expression a mixture of rage and something that looked dangerously close to pain. "Not everything is your business just because we signed some fucking papers, okay?"
The words stung more than they should have. After all, he was right, this wasn't a real marriage. We weren't partners or lovers or even friends. We were two people bound by convenience and blackmail.
"Fine," I said, taking a step back, hating how small my voice sounded. "Sorry I asked."
Something flickered in his eyes—regret, maybe—but it was gone before I could be sure. He turned away again, continuing down the hallway to his office. The door slammed behind him with a finality that echoed through my bones.
I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the closed door, wishing I knew how to reach the man inside. The evening that had started so warmly, with laughter and wine and family, had ended in this—cold silence and doors slammed in faces.
The whiplash left me dizzy.
But despite that, I wanted to know him, really know him, beyond the walls and defenses, beyond the business arrangement, beyond the blackmail. I wanted to understand what made Rafael de Luca the man he was, with all his contradictions and complexities.
And that, I realized was far more dangerous than anything else that had happened between us.
Chapter 14
Cece
