“I... I had no idea,” I whispered.
My voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely.
“I’m sorry, Rafael.” My throat tightened painfully. “I’m so sorry.”
For a long moment, he didn’t respond.
The silence stretched between us, thick enough to suffocate thought itself.
We drove in silence for a while longer. I didn’t know how long. Time meant nothing in darkness.
Then, quieter—dangerously calm—he said, “So now you know. And knowledge comes with consequence. You made me speak what I buried for years... and I will never see you through the same lens again. Not as someone to be shielded for Tess’s sake—but as the heir of the man who ruined my entire existence.”
“Is that why you made me your personal assistant? Why you married me—to keep me within reach, close enough to pay for what my father did to you?”
The truth settled in slowly, like sinking into cold water.
Of course.
I lowered my head slightly, my fingers curling into the fabric of my dress.
My throat burned, but I refused to let any more tears fall. There was nothing left in me that I could afford to lose.
It had been implied rather than spoken outright—that there was more to our marriage than I understood.
And now I was caught in it, unable to see what future he had decided for me, especially after uncovering the truth he had kept buried for so long.
The car slowed.
Then stopped.
The sudden stillness made my body tense instinctively. I reached for the door, but before I could find it, I heard his side open.
Rafael moved first.
The air shifted as he came around the car. I felt him before I heard him.
His hand settled at my waist once more, steady and deliberate, steering me with a precision that felt almost habitual.
Not what I would expect from someone who, by all logic, should have begun to destroy me.
I paused—just a moment too long—uncertain, wary.
Maybe this was the beginning of punishment. Maybe worse.
I knew this place. His home.
He didn’t speak.
A slight pressure at my side urged me forward, and after a beat, I obeyed.
My steps were careful, silent except for the soft scrape of my shoes against stone.
Every sense I had sharpened in place of sight tried to map the space around me, but tonight even that felt unreliable.
We crossed the threshold into the vast foyer.
Warmth met us, but it didn’t reach me.
