Page 43 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

RAFAEL

The words slipped out of my mouth unbidden. Goddammit. I was going to ask her with more finesse—not blurt it out like this while she’s hooked to an IV drip.

She’s staring at me now, mouth slightly open, eyes wide like I’ve just suggested we relocate to Mars.

“That wasn’t very smooth, was it?” I clear my throat, straightening my shoulders. No backing down now. “Let me rephrase: we’re getting married.”

There. Direct. Final. This is what I want, what I need , so there’s no point trying to backtrack. I’m sticking to my guns—and I’ll bulldoze right through her objections if I have to.

“Rafael.”

“No, listen. Marriage to me is the only way you’re going to survive this mess.”

“What are you talking about?” she snaps, glaring at me and instinctively trying to cross her arms over her chest. Her body rebels against the movement, reminding her of the IV line before I can, and she drops her left hand back to the bed with visible frustration.

I study her for a moment, taking in the pale cast to her skin, the way her eyelids keep drooping despite her anger.

She’s exhausted, running on fumes and stubborn determination.

Maybe this isn’t the right time for this conversation.

But then again, she’s vulnerable right now.

Hurt, isolated, questioning everything she believed in.

If that makes me a bastard for taking advantage, so be it.

“Simple, baby. You’ve managed to make yourself enemies on every single front. I had a meeting with one of my dons last week—he was very concerned about you poking your pretty nose into our business. The Italians are not happy with you, and he wanted my permission to end your life.”

She winces, and something twists in my chest. Was that too brutal? Perhaps. But brutal honesty is the only thing that’s going to get through to her now. I force myself to stay where I am, resisting the urge to go to her, to smooth the worry lines from her forehead.

Not yet. She needs to hear all of it first.

“The Russians can’t be too happy with you after the arrest of their pakhan either. And now that he’s been released, Sergey can come after you at any time. And apparently, you even have enemies within the bureau now?”

“We don’t know that for sure yet.” Her protest is weak, halfhearted. She doesn’t believe her words any more than I do.

“We’ll know for sure when I pay those fuckers a visit in a few minutes.” I pull out my phone, unable to suppress the satisfied smirk that spreads across my face when I see Stefano’s text with an address.

“What did you do?” There’s something new in her voice now—a flicker of excitement threading through the exhaustion, her eyes popping wide.

“I have a man watching you. He’s the one who alerted me to the attack on you. I instructed him to follow your attackers—and guess who just sent me their location?” I wave my phone, and something unexpected happens .

She smiles.

Christ . The expression transforms her battered face, makes her look younger, more like the girl I fell for all those years ago. The sight of it hits me harder than expected, stealing the air from my lungs. She likes my ruthless efficiency? My willingness to hunt down the bastards who hurt her?

Good. That’s exactly who I am. Your monster, your protector.

“I’m going with you.”

“Like hell you are.” The words come out sharp, final. No room for negotiation. “The point I’m trying to make here is that your life is in danger from multiple directions, and there’s only one person with a genuine, vested interest in keeping you alive. Me.”

She tilts her head. “Are you really in love with me?”

Fuck.

My heart jackhammers against my ribs, the organ squeezing painfully until my chest heaves with the effort to continue breathing. Who the hell told her that? I’m not ready to admit how deep this goes for me.

I sidestep the question entirely. “You’re going to marry me to stay alive, and so your superiors won’t be able to force you to testify against me. A wife can’t testify against her husband.” They won’t be able to use her against me again either.

Two birds, one stone. Protection and insurance.

“I don’t know… this is so fast, too fast. I can’t think.”

“It’s been fifteen years in the making, amorina . Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.”

“It’s not cold feet.” She shifts uncomfortably, wincing as the movement pulls at her injuries. “We’re enemies, Rafael. No matter what I've discovered about the bureau, marrying you will spell the end of my career. Because what kind of federal agent marries a known criminal?”

There it is. The real objection.

“You said you were going to quit,” I remind her .

She shakes her head, raising her right hand to massage her temple. “Yeah, when I thought the bureau sent those men after me. And I made some disturbing discoveries today. Still, my career is my entire life. Without it, I’ll have nothing left.”

“You’ll have me,” I point out. “You’ll be married to me.”

“No. I’m not marrying you. There has to be other solutions. Marriage is a big decision. My life, yours, everything will change.”

Everything already has changed, baby. You just haven’t accepted it yet.

“Being scared of a change this big is normal. But this is the only way we can truly protect each other. The choice is yours, piccola. ” I pause, making sure she’s listening.

“You can either let your fear win and leave this penthouse tomorrow, never to come back, and face your challenges alone. Or marry me, and I’ll shield and protect you from everyone—even yourself. ”

The silence stretches between us. I can practically hear her mind working, weighing options, calculating risks. I hold my breath as she deliberates. It’s obvious which choice is safer for her, but she can be stubborn and unpredictable.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

The question comes out of nowhere, soft and uncertain. I frown, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Mad about what?”

“What happened ten years ago.” Her voice drops to almost a whisper. “I betrayed you. I knew it was bad. I didn’t want to do it… but I did it anyway.”

Ten years ago.

I take a moment to really consider that.

The night it happened, I was furious—betrayed, hurt, ready to burn the world down.

Even though I couldn’t help myself from watching over her through the years, from interfering when she needed help, that betrayal had always been there, a constant ache in my chest.

Maybe it’s the passage of time, or seeing her beaten and helpless on the concrete tonight, but I can’t summon even half the anger I felt back then. At least not right now.

“So?” I ask finally. “Do you plan to betray me again?”

She shakes her head quickly and tries to swing her legs off the bed as if she means to get up. But pain stops her, and she collapses back against the headboard with a wince that makes my jaw clench.

“Stay still.” I’m beside her before I consciously decide to move, checking the IV line, making sure she hasn’t pulled anything loose.

Emilia grabs my wrist like she was only waiting for me to come closer. “I only did it because I was so sure you were innocent. I wanted to prove your innocence to everyone.”

I tilt my head, studying her face for several long seconds. “And what did you discover?”

“Everything was so shady and unclear. Then my dad died—died again—and I…” She bites her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. “I just forgot to ask about your innocence after that. I was too angry, too hurt to think straight.”

“And I was never arrested for that crime, was I?” The reminder hits its mark.

She lets go of her lip, staring up at me with sudden realization, as if this fact had never occurred to her before.

“You were probably fed lies about me from the start to foster dislike. Tell me, what crimes were they trying to pin on me?”

She sighs and releases my wrist—reluctantly, I note with dark satisfaction—before settling back against the pillows. “Remember how little girls were disappearing around that time? The ones who turned up with their organs harvested?”

“You thought I’d do that?” I ask incredulously. The hurt in my voice is real—the idea that she could think me capable of something so monstrous…

“No!” Emilia shakes her head quickly. “I knew it wasn’t you. That’s why I tried so hard to prove your innocence. But then I–I saw you and the other guys were at the orphanage where the last girl was kidnapped, and I didn’t know what to think anymore.”

The orphanage. Memory crystalizes—we’d been tracking the real monsters, trying to stop them. But from the outside, I can see how it looked.

“So you shared our location with your fellow agents, our enemies .” The old anger flickers to life briefly. “What if we had died then? We almost lost our lives. Your father—” Fuck .

I cut myself off abruptly and get off the bed, putting distance between us.

I almost said too much, almost revealed that an FBI agent killed Tomassi that night.

She’s already starting to come around to me, to trust me.

I don’t know how she’ll handle that revelation on top of everything else she’s been through tonight.

“What about my father?” she asks perceptively.

Damn it. She caught that. “I think it’s time you get some rest,” I say instead, moving towards the door. “Let the meds kick in and do their job.”

“Rafael—”

But I’m gone, leaving her question unanswered and my own demons clawing at my chest. I’m not running away. I just have other things to deal with right now—starting with the fuckers who put their hands on her tonight.