Page 5 of Devil's Azalea

Katie smirks as she sidles up to me, her voice singsongy. “He liiikes you.”

“Shut the hell up,” I growl, spinning away from her and leaving the office ahead of her. Only when I’m halfway down the hallway do I feel like I can breathe again. Damn Rafael—and damn me for letting him keep me in such a hold.

Maybe I should just fuck Matt.

But I dismiss the thought almost as soon as it pops up. Even if I did return Matt’s so-called feelings—which I don’t—I’m not about to break my rule and have a thing with a colleague. That kind of thing gets messy fast.

I descend the stairs towards the main floor, where my agents are all waiting for me with their evidence boxes. As I scan the room one last time, the manager meets my gaze and immediately turns his nose up.

Silly man.I shake my head as I lead my people outside.

The second I step into the freezing late-November air, a trio of AMG Mercedes with blacked-out windows pulls up to the parking lot across from the club. My heart trips over itself, belly tightening instinctively as I watch the vehicles park.

“Ohh, fancy,” Katie murmurs next to me, handing her box to another agent who loads it into one of our cars. But I can’t take my eyes off those sleek, intimidating vehicles.

The doors open, and several men with tailored suits step out—packing heat under those expensive fabrics, no doubt. One of them opens the back door of the last car, and my lungs fucking seize when one shiny, black loafer hits the pavement, followed by another.

A tall figure unfolds himself from the expensive vehicle, towering at least three inches over the other men. He adjusts his jacket, but there’s really not a single wrinkle in sight on the damned thing.

Then he turns his head. Like heknows. Like my stare reached across the pavement and gave him a little tap on the shoulder. And when our gazes meet, a jolt shoots straight down my spine.

Rafael.

Katie whistles softly. “With a face like that, no wonder he’s gotten away with so much shit.”

She’s not wrong. Rafael Moretti is devastating in his beauty. But it’s not just his face. His suit jacket stretches lovingly across the broad expanse of his shoulders, the pants hugging his thick thighs in a way that makes it impossible not to notice. He rounds the car with that slow, confident stride, his entourage of men right on his heels.

From my peripheral—because I still can’t fucking take my eyes off him—I catch my agents shifting into a protective shield formation at my back.

My heart hammers wildly, palms sweating, belly quivering, and my mouth goes desert-dry like I’m some lovesick schoolgirl with a fucking crush. I haven’t seen him in person in over a year. Not since that time in the alley after I got disciplined for my rash actions with Maximo and his wife.

That moment when I temporarily surrendered my better judgment and gave in to raw, desperate craving.

Even now, I drink him in greedily, my eyes unsure where to settle because he’s just so fucking gorgeous, damn him to hell. The bastard always leaves me feeling fucking arrested in his presence.

As he gets within a few feet, the scent that had me holding my breath back in his office assails me with full force. It’s so much more intense in person, and my eyes flutter shut before I can stop myself, my head spinning so violently I swear I almost sway.

Shit. Did I?

No—no, no, I stood still. IthinkI stood still. God, if Katie saw that, I’d never hear the end of it. And if he saw…

I quickly force my eyes open, praying no one noticed my momentary weakness.

And then his beautiful chrome eyes snag mine, and suddenly time grinds to a halt. The noise fades, and the world falls away until there’s nothing but him and me and the live wire of a current that’s never stopped sparking between us.

Rafael and me. Always this. Always fucking this.

Me. Rafael.

MyRafael.

We stare across the chaos, the distance, the years. And for a second, I wonder—is he drowning in the same emotional hurricane that’s devasting me? Is he remembering our past? The promises we made? The night it all went to hell?

Or am I the only idiot still haunted by a ghost with a heartbeat?

A sharp tug at the back of my jacket snaps me out of my trance. I blink, like I’ve surfaced from underwater, and suddenly the world crashes back in—horns blaring, people shouting, Manhattan rush hour roaring at full volume. Out ofthe corner of my eye, I see Katie lowering her hand, her eyes flicking between me and Rafael.

Katie. Right. Right.Focus.