He had been ready to silence me... to cut out my tongue for it—until Rafael walked in and stopped him.
“I felt compassion,” he said. “Real compassion,” he repeated, as though testing the word on himself.
“It was the first time I saw you—the blind intern everyone spoke about—and yet it felt like I had known you for years.”
My lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.
He exhaled, slow and heavy.
“I had my people run a background check while I was still there,” he continued. “That was when I learned your full name. Your father. Your history.”
His hand tightened slightly on my back—not painful, but controlled, like he was restraining something beneath his skin.
“The man who destroyed my family.”
My throat tightened instantly.
“I should have felt rage,” he said. “Or the need for revenge.”
A pause.
“Instead... I felt nothing but the urge to keep you close.”
The confession left the air heavier than before.
My heart gave an uneven stutter in my chest, disoriented by the direction of his honesty.
“So... what you feel for me is...”
“Compassion,” he finished simply.
It struck deeper than it should have.
Compassion.
Not love.
Not desire.
Nothing I could hold onto.
Just... pity wrapped in control.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. The warmth that had started building in my chest moments ago shifted, turning uncertain.
“Were you born blind?”
The question startled me.
I hesitated, my head lowering slightly before I forced myself to answer honestly.
“No, I wasn’t.” I said quietly.
My voice cracked despite my attempt to steady it.
“I paid a surgeon to remove my eyes.”
“You—” His voice broke slightly, something raw slipping through the control for the first time since I had known him. “You removed your own eyes?”
