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Rafael nuzzles my neck, dropping kisses on any patch of skin he finds.

Seconds go by where we’re a tangled, sweaty heap listening to each other’s ragged breathing.

We roll over onto our sides to face each other.

Rafael strokes my cheek and asks, “Are you okay,dolcezza? Was that too much for you?”

I smirk. “Too much if you mean you’ve ruined me for all other men.”

“That’s good. Because no other man ever gets to have you.”

“How did I know you’d say that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he says, leaning closer. He presses a kiss to my lips. “It’s too late for them. I’ve already claimed you.”

31

RAFAEL

Portia’sstill fast asleep when I leave the note next to her pillow. I take a moment to study her like this, so serene and beautiful in her sleeping state. My hand comes to caress her face, and for a second, her eyelids flutter as if she recognizes my touch from deep within her dreams.

By the time she wakes up, I’ll be gone. I’ll be hours into my long day, conducting business and addressing other important matters.

She’ll be confused. She’ll question if I even wrote the note, but then she’ll reread it and realize it’s in my handwriting.

It’s going to break her heart. It hurt me even more to write it.

After recent events, there’s no denying it any longer. There’s no more scheming to do to hide the mounting lies and secrets from her.

Portia will never quit her investigations. She might back off for a while, but ultimately she will return to her quest exposing the Belluccis and Tucos. She’ll want to unmask Il Diavolo, and she very well might succeed.

That’s not even the worst part.

More troubling is the fact that she’s my vulnerability. A weak point of mine that enemies will pursue the moment they find out we’re together.

In the aftermath of what happened the night at the warehouse, I have earned an enemy in the Tucos. As far as they’re concerned, Rafael Calderone also has an enemy in Il Diavolo and the Belluccis.

The situation is too complex and difficult to predict, like a wildfire razing down everything in its path.

So, last night as Portia drifted off to sleep and I found my thoughts loud in the silence, I realized what I had to do. Until I found a viable solution, I was going to have to let her go.

I was going to have to protect her by pushing her away and ensuring my identity as Il Diavolo is secured. If Portia pursues the job opportunity in DC, she’ll be distracted. She won’t be in Newport, digging into the Bellucci and Tuco families, putting herself in the bullseye of their wrath.

And she won’t be on the verge of discovering the truth about who I really am.

For now, this is for the best. For both myself and the woman I have fallen in love with.

* * *

Portia is gone when I do return to the penthouse. All the things she’d started storing in the drawers, cabinets, and my closet have vanished.

Her scent lingers.

It makes my eyes close and heats me up from the inside. Memories flood my mind of what it’s like to press my face into the soft crook of her neck and inhale her scent, or how amazing it felt to touch and kiss her or hold her in my arms.

I’m inundated with every sensory detail about her.

My curse to bear after making the decision to let her go. Encourage her to take the job after all.