Page 16 of Legacy (The Sovereigns #2)

Adriana

Three Months Later

I t’s been three months of silence.

Three long months since I signed that damn certificate, binding me to a man who hadn’t even bothered to call.

And three long months of my brother avoiding me at every turn.

The frustration simmers in my chest as I march toward his private gym.

If Angelo isn’t going to demand my presence, then I need some answers.

The hallway leading to Luciano’s gym is colder than the rest of the estate—marble underfoot, framed black-and-white photos of fighters from decades past lining the walls.

I pass the storage rack filled with gloves and wraps, the heavy scent of sweat and metal hitting me as I push open the thick door.

The gym is cavernous, lit by overhead fluorescents that hum low and unforgiving. The walls are lined with mirrors, punching bags hanging from reinforced beams, and the ring takes up most of the center space—clean, but stained from years of bruises and blood.

Luciano is sparring with Rafael.

Both men shirtless, muscles flexing under the overhead lights as they circle each other in the ring.

And fuck, Rafael has been looking so damn good.

Rafael lands a quick jab to Luciano’s side.

A smirk tugs at my lips.

Good.

Big brother not as invincible as he pretends to be.

Luciano’s head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing before softening with recognition.

“Failsafe!” he barks, and in an instant, my body moves on instinct.

Failsafe. Our go to trick.

Sacrifice yourself and the other comes in and takes out the target.

It always works.

I barely process the look of confusion on Rafael’s face before Luciano leans back, giving him an opening.

Rafael lunges forward with a right hook, landing it squarely on Luciano’s jaw.

Luciano staggers.

Rafael laughs a bit too soon.

Distracted.

As planned.

I dart into the ring, jumping onto Rafael’s back with practiced precision. My arms lock around his neck, and I use my momentum to pull him backward.

His balance falters, and with a grunt, he hits the mat.

“Damn it, Adriana!” Rafael groans, thrashing.

Luciano, still rubbing his jaw, grins down at his fallen consejero.

“Good job, hermanita.”

He smirks at me with pride.

I let Rafael go, getting up and brushing my hands on my jeans as he glares up at both of us.

“You two are the worst,” Rafael mutters.

He sits up. “Every fucking time with the failsafe. Every. Time.”

Luciano offers him a hand, still chuckling.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Rafa . ”

Rafael ignores his hand and Luciano’s attention pulls to me, his smile fading slightly.

“What brings you here, hermana? Finally decided to forgive me?”

He tilts his head, looking almost apologetic.

I cross my arms, leveling him with a glare.

“Hardly. I came because I haven’t seen you in months, and I’m tired of waiting for answers. Where is Angelo? Why hasn’t he called for me yet?”

Luciano exchanges a look with Rafael.

No.

His expression turns serious.

“Angelo is in the middle of a war. It’s not safe to fly you out right now.”

A war. My stomach twists at the thought.

“And when exactly were you planning to tell me this?”

Fire burns my throat.

Luciano’s gaze softens, but his voice stays firm.

“When the time was right. Until then, stay here, fuck around, and don’t do anything reckless.”

“Reckless? Me?” I scoff annoyed.

Rafael gives me a teasing grin. “You did just jump me in the middle of a sparring match. Reckless is practically your middle name.”

I glare at him, a faint smile tugging on my lips.

“ Also I could help you with the fucking around if you’d like…for old times sake,” Rafael winks.

Luciano groans with a grimace.

“ Carajo , do that flirting shit somewhere else.”

Ignoring Luciano, Rafael saunters over towards me, a wolfish grin playing on his lips.

“What do you say, Scarlet, care for some distraction?” he asks, his timber voice echoing slightly in the room.

He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

My body lights up.

It’s been months.

“Rafa,” Luciano warns. The annoyance blatant in his tone.

My eyes narrow at Rafael but a growing heat in my cheeks rises. I shake my head, forcing a laugh.

“You’re impossible.”

“Guilty,” he admits, holding up his hands as though surrendering.

His grin, however, is anything but repentant.

Luciano rolls his eyes and moves to exit the ring.

“For the love of God, both of you find someone else to flirt with.”

He walks away before abruptly pausing, turning back toward me. His expression stern.

“ Adriana . You’re married, no fucking Rafael.”

Fuck.

The door clicks shut behind Luciano, and the room suddenly feels too quiet, the sound of my heartbeat thrumming in my ears.

Rafael doesn’t move at first, just stands there. The only sounds in the room are his soft breaths and the quiet creak of the ropes as he leans back against them, watching me. The heat of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, and I hate myself for noticing.

He breaks the silence.

“You’re lonely.”

He takes a step closer, his presence filling the space between us. “Admit it, Adriana, I know you.”

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as he closes the distance. His words hit too close to home, chipping away at the defenses I’d built over the past three months.

“You don’t know everything,” I say, my voice faltering.

I step back instinctively.

He follows, not touching me, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him.

His hand comes up, hovering just near my cheek.

My body stills.

“Don’t I?” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “You want answers. You want to feel something. You just want to be seen.”

His words crack something inside me, the ache of his voice matching the hollow space I’d been trying to ignore.

My breath catches as his hand finally brushes against my cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt of familiarity through me.

My eyes close.

Rafael has been my friend with benefits for years. We last slept together a week before I found out about my “marriage.”

My body remembers every touch, every whispered word. He’s familiar, safe.

“Rafael.”

It comes out as a plea instead of the warning I wanted.

“Adriana,” he counters, his voice dipping lower. “You deserve more than this. You know you do.”

His other hand comes up, resting lightly on my hip, and I can’t stop the shiver that courses through me.

But he fucks up.

“You think Angelo’s been waiting for you? You think he hasn’t had anyone else while you’re down here playing the good wife?”

His voice is soft but laced with venom, cutting through my haze.

Anger flares, sharp and sudden, snapping me out of the spell.

I step away from him, breaking the contact.

“Don’t,” I say, my voice firmer now, though it trembles at the edges.

I put a hand up.

Distance.

I need it.

“Don’t do this, Rafael. I may not want this marriage, but I’m not… I won’t…”

He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face .

“I’m not trying to hurt you. But you deserve to know the truth. He’s not coming for you. Not yet. And maybe not ever. We haven’t heard from him since he signed the papers.”

My chest tightens as his words hang in the air.

“Just think about it.”

He steps back giving me space. “You don’t have to be alone. You always have me.”

His words hurt, but there’s truth to them, I know it. I feel it.

But fuck that.

I need answers.

I need to talk to Angelo.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and shoot my brother a text, telling him I want Angelo Amato’s number.

I see the message is read as I storm through the halls of his estate my steps echoing sharply on the stone floors of Luciano’s estate, each step angrier than the last.

Sunlight filters through the high arched windows, painting warm stripes over cold tiles I barely notice. I grip my phone tighter as I wait. The text bubble appears and disappears before a message comes through with his number.

My heart stutters, I haven’t spoken to this man in five years, not after he shattered my heart.

What the fuck am I going to say now?