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Chapter Twenty-Four

Lux

I’m sprinting through the mansion, slamming doors open and close, desperately searching for a way out.

Dominic, or Rafael, is everywhere.

Every room I run into holds more and more Rafaels.

I scream as they melt away into the floor, the blood-red puddle circling my ankles and pulling me down.

“It’s me! It’s me!” they scream in unison, their features contorting.

The skin peels away from their faces, sliding down their expensive identical suits.

I scream, running, searching for the real thing.

I sit upright with a gasp, pressing a shaking hand to my clammy forehead. A dream, it’s just a dream.

I flop back onto the bed, burrowing myself into the pillows. But the room is too large and unfamiliar. Shadows play on the walls, sneaking in through the windows, making me see things that don’t exist.

An engine roars somewhere on the street below, making me jump.

Groaning, I pull the duvet over my head, but that doesn’t stop my heart from racing. I recall the events of today, my stomach churning at every memory. I can’t believe I was working for the mafia the entire time.

I can’t believe I fell in love with a man not knowing who he really was.

But did I? Dominic—Rafael, I remind myself—says I know the real him. I think back to our time together, like how easy the first night at the bar was. The conversation flowed so freely, the banter was perfect, and his smile—it had been genuine.

Our ice cream date at Route 42, the rooftop pool adventure, dinners together, everything was perfect. I sigh, rolling over and scrunching my eyes closed. Can I love a man who pretended to be someone he’s not? Does it change enough that my heart changes with it?

A scrape against the window sends me flying out of bed and into the hallway. My heart hammers like a beating drum when I realize the hallway is just as dark and creepy as my guest bedroom.

I try to convince myself it was only the wind but the truth is, I don’t want to be alone tonight.

Quietly, I tiptoe to Rafael’s room and pause in the open doorway. I take a deep breath and peek in to see him stretched across his bed, his arm thrown over his face. His chest rises and falls gently and he looks totally relaxed.

“You don’t have a knife, do you?”

I jump at the sound of his voice. “What?”

“You’re silently standing in my doorway at three a.m. watching me sleep,” he says casually, not looking at me. “I figure you’re here to finish the job, assassin.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me even though I try to keep it locked away. I relax against the doorframe, taking in his smooth, firm chest and the way his hips narrow under the blanket.

“So,” he presses, finally moving his arm and cracking one eye open. “What’s your choice of weapon? A knife or your bare hands?”

“Who says it wouldn’t be a gun?” I ask, slinking closer to the bed. It looks so inviting with the blanket pulled back and Rafael’s warm body glowing in the moonlight.

“Too messy for you,” he says immediately. “You’re more of a struggle through it but keep it clean type of woman.”

“I like that you’ve thought about this,” I say, tentatively perching on the bed.

“Get in the damn bed, Lux,” he says gruffly, glancing over at me. “And I’ve considered every potential murder possibility…my own murder, that is. Need to cover every angle.”

“Is that why it was nearly impossible to find a sharp enough knife in your kitchen?” I quip, sliding in beside him but keeping my distance.

“What?”

“I’m joking,” I say, and he visibly relaxes. “I brought my own.”

He cracks up laughing and reaches for me. For a second, my body tenses and he freezes. Then, slowly, his arm circles my waist and pulls me to him. Our bodies instantly relax into each other, remembering the familiarity we once had.

“I had a nightmare,” I confess after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I just don’t want to be alone,” I admit. I feel him nod behind me and tuck me closer against him. Every inch of his rock-hard body surrounds mine, the feeling so safe it’s freeing. I melt into him, allowing myself to feel peace for the first time tonight.

“Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?”

“Kind of,” I say, fighting the sleep that evaded me earlier. “I don’t want to know details about your…mafia stuff. I just want to know why you do it.”

He sighs deeply, burrowing his face into my neck. I get a strong whiff of Dominic—Rafael, that scent that used to drive me crazy when we lay in bed like this. My nipples instantly harden, and I silently warn them about making a scene right now.

“Why I’m in the mafia?” he asks, his voice tired and resigned. “I was born into it, I guess. I had a normal childhood, like I told you, but I was also trained for this role from a very young age. I’m a lethal weapon, a cold hard killer, a sniper, an interrogator, a tracker…what else do you do with these skills?”

He stops talking and gently runs his hand over my back in circles, trying to soothe me.

“Hmm, definitely not floral arrangements,” I say lightly, trying to infuse some humor back into the conversation to reassure him that I’m fine.

As he laughs, his hand slips down to my ass, resting on my ass cheek. A heady thrill runs through me when my body remembers his touch and responds on its own.

I push myself into his hand harder, and he starts massaging circles into it. A tiny moan escapes my lips, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

The man is just trying to comfort you. What’s wrong with you?

“Lux,” he whispers, his lips dangerously close my ear. “We should get some sleep. You’ve had a long, confusing day.”

I spin around in his arms to face him. His eyes are two burning coals set beautifully against the features of his face. His mouth opens, mimicking mine, as I move closer. Our lips hover just out of reach of each other’s, begging for contact.

His scent wafts over me, the heat of his body lights mine on fire, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I close that space. Feeling his soft, lush lips on mine again ignites something needy within me.

I run my hands up and down his back. My nails lightly scratch his skin as I pull him closer, and he moans, grinding his hips into mine. The feeling of him, so hard and ready for me, just separated by thin fabric, spurs me on.

I shove him down on the bed and straddle him, letting my hair fall around us like a golden curtain. My greedy body drives me forward as I lean in, desperate to feel his lips again.

“Lux,” he gasps, pressing his hand to my chest to stop me. “We can’t do this. We just can’t.”

I know I’m being rash but I lean in again, pretending I didn't hear him. My lips burn for his, my body begs for his. I need his touch again so much it hurts.

“Please,” he begs, lightly lifting me off and placing me on the bed beside him. He sits up as well, scrubbing his hands down his face. He stares at the ceiling like he’s regretting his decision. “I can’t do this. We broke up.”

“But I thought…”

The realization that still, after he saved me and told me the truth, he doesn’t want me hits me hard. It was never about his mafia secret. He simply didn’t want to date me.

I’m so stupid.

“No, Lux,” he pleads, catching sight of my horrified, ashamed face. “I’m fucking this up again. Let me explain. It’s not that I don’t want you…”

“It’s fine,” I brush him off, sliding to the opposite side of the bed. “I misunderstood.”

I quickly slip out of bed and head to the door. Rafael growls behind me, a real animalistic, wild wolf-type growl, and suddenly his strong arms are around me. I’m pinned to his body, his face hovering near my ear.

“Understand this, now and forever,” he whispers darkly. His menacing voice makes my insides burst into flames. I squeeze my legs tighter, stifling a moan. “I always want you. I’ve always wanted you. I will always want you.”

I nod, gulping down some air. This side of Rafael does something to me, even now that I know that he probably fillets men for their crimes like sardines.

“That’s my good girl,” he growls, his arms relaxing. He runs his hands up and down my curves, swirling his fingers around my nipples. I arch forward, pressing my ass flush against his rock-hard cock. “You’re not going to bed thinking you’re unwanted here.”

I yelp as he scoops me up and throws me on the bed, toppling on top of me. Every ounce of need and yearning in my being explodes, and we launch at each other. Hands fly, lips suck, teeth bite—a flurry of unhinged desire finally set loose.

He rips my long sleep shirt off my body, the threads literally snapping and cutting into my skin. I gasp as he sends the shreds of fabric flying across the room. I paw at his pajama pants, desperate to have them off, itching to feel him inside me.

When we’re fully naked and panting like wild beasts, he pauses to gaze down at me. His fingers come up, stroking my hair softly as his eyes soften.

“Say my name,” he commands, his voice rough. “My real name.”

“Rafael,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him close. “Rafael, Rafael, Rafael.”

The moment he slides into me is indescribable, leaving me grasping for words. We both go still, reveling in the feeling of being connected again. As he begins to thrust deeper and deeper, I let go completely.

I feel like I’m sliding off the edge of the world. I moan and scream his name with abandon, meeting his hips with mine, begging for more.

“Come for me, baby,” he commands, gripping my hips so tight I know there’ll be marks tomorrow. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

His voice, rich and soft like velvet, uncorks something inside me, and I feel my connection with the world break. I’m slipping into some sort of nirvana dimension, and I can’t stop. Every thrust, every movement, pushes me closer and closer.

“Good girl,” he grunts, his eyes glazing over. He’s close, too. I dig my nails into his back, screaming his name, his real name, and everything goes black for a second.

He roars, and glitter pours across my field of vision. My body feels like it’s weightless, floating up into the clouds. Rafael collapses on top of me, panting and gasping for breath, his cock still deep inside me. I twine my arms around his neck, holding him close, stroking his back.

“Lux,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. He strokes my jaw and runs his fingers across my lips. “I hope that was…”

“It was incredible,” I breathe, pulling him up for a deep kiss. We settle into each other’s arms, our bodies hot and sweaty under the cool breeze of the industrial ceiling fan. “You’re incredible.”

He laughs, placing his big warm hand right on my lower belly. That’s a conversation that’s definitely way past due. Do I tell him now? Will it ruin the moment?

I sigh, rolling over onto my side to face him and trail my finger along the curves and planes of his face. He closes his eyes, relaxing at my touch, a soft smile on his lips.

“Since this seems to be the day of truths,” I start hesitantly. “I have something to share.”

He nods, encouraging me. His eyes remain closed, and he maintains the appearance of total relaxation, but I feel him stiffen slightly under my touch. He’s scared. He’s scared of my truth.

“I found out a few weeks ago that I’m…pregnant.”

“What?”

His eyes fly open, and he shoots upright, gently grabbing my elbows in his hands.

“It’s yours, by the way,” I add, unsure if he thinks otherwise. He glares at me quickly and shakes his head.

“Obviously, it’s mine,” he scoffs, cupping my chin and kissing me gently on the lips. “Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?”

“Well, I was going to,” I hesitate, searching for the best way to word it without digging the knife in deeper. “I cooked you dinner that day to surprise you, but when you came home…well, you broke up with me.”

“Fuck.”