Page 31 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

Rafe’s mansion loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the night sky. The sleek lines and sharp angles were imposing, resembling more of a fortress than a home. The iron gates slid shut behind us with a soft hum, and when the car pulled to a stop in the circular drive, I hesitated.

It felt different this time.

Maybe it was knowing I wouldn’t return home for however long this took.

Before Rafe came into my life, I had everything.

Well, almost everything. I thought that he was the missing piece to my life, but it has proven to be more difficult than I’d like.

Maybe it was the weight of everything that had happened.

Either way, my chest tightened as I stepped out, the night air blowing my long, black hair back.

The massive front doors opened before we reached them, and when we crossed the threshold, the cool scent of stone and cedar wrapped around me.

Inside, the house was shadowed and still. Dim lighting poured across the marble floor, the gleam of glass and polished wood catching the faintest glow. It was beautiful, really, but the quiet felt heavy, like the house itself was holding its breath.

My heels clicked softly as I followed him down the hall. “It looks different at night,” I murmured, my eyes tracing the cold opulence around me.

Rafe glanced back, his expression unreadable. “You’ll get used to it. ”

Would I?

We reached his bedroom, the one across from where his doctor had tended to me days ago, and the memory made my skin prickle. The low light softened the space, but there was no mistaking its power. The room was his, through and through.

I set my bag down near one of the dark leather chairs, arms crossed tight over my chest. “What am I supposed to do about work, Rafe? I can’t just disappear into your…fortress.”

He shut the door behind us. “You’ll go to work,” he said simply. “But you’ll be taken there and brought back in my car with my driver and my security.”

I sighed. “You’re serious.”

He didn’t blink. “What I did tonight could have been anyone else, Adela. You know that.”

I swallowed hard, the reminder still too fresh. The mask. The cold steel of the knife. The fear that had twisted through me before I realized it was him.

“You’re making the right decision by being here,” he said softly. “And I will do whatever I must to keep you safe.”

His words soothed me. I knew he could protect me. He was powerful in every way imaginable. I turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the moonlight spill across the sprawling grounds. “I’m not used to being… kept .”

Rafe moved behind me, his presence a heat against my back. “You’re not being kept . You’re being protected.”

I let out a soft, bitter laugh. “And what’s the difference?”

His hands found my waist, his grip firm but careful. “The difference,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. “Is that you chose this.”

I stood there, his hands warm and possessive on my waist, his breath teasing my skin, and I realized something.

I was already his.

It wouldn’t matter if I chose this or not. He likely would have taken me regardless. Maybe I hadn’t said the words out loud, but it didn’t matter. I’d let him into my life. Into my bed. And now into my home, because this house, his house , was going to be mine too, wasn’t it?

I’d fought so hard to keep control. To stay untouchable. But with Rafe, I never stood a chance.

And maybe…I didn’t want one. I was missing a vital piece of what I needed in my life before he showed up.

I turned in his arms, looking up into those icy blue eyes that had haunted me from the start. “You want me here?” I asked, my voice low.

His fingers tightened, just slightly. “I do.”

“You want me safe?”

“Always.”

“Then you’d better be sure, Rafe.” I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Because I don’t do halfway. I don’t do, maybe .”

He smiled, that slow, dangerous curve I felt all the way to my knees. “Neither do I.”

I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed him.

***

The morning light spilled across the bed, but it did nothing to chase away the cold tension in my stomach. I blinked against the soft brightness, my body aching in the best way. Rafe’s arm was draped heavily over my waist, his warmth pressed against my back, his breath steady against my neck.

But the moment my phone buzzed on the nightstand, I knew peace was over. I reached for it, careful not to disturb him, but his grip tightened the second I moved.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. The sound of it made me want to melt. But the screen was already lit up, and the message waiting there iced my veins .

You are cordially invited.

Both of you.

Attached was an address of what looked to be some kind of event. 10pm. No other explanation. Just a demand and a threat.

Rafe shifted behind me. “What is it?” His voice was sharper now, awake and alert. I turned the screen toward him. He stared at it for a long moment, his face going completely still. Then he sat up, the sheets falling around his waist as he reached for his own phone.

“No,” he said flatly. “You’re not going.”

My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a trap, Adela.” He was already dialing a number. “You’re not walking into it.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not against this.”

I slid out of bed and moved to the closet, my frustration mounting. “You keep saying that, but you forget who I am. I’ve been running my own empire since I was twenty-two. You think I don’t know how to handle threats?”

“Not these kinds of threats.”

I grabbed a fitted black dress and slipped it on, not bothering to look at him as I spoke. “You’re forgetting one thing, Rafe.” I pulled my gun from the locked drawer, sliding it into the holster on my thigh. “I come prepared.”

When I turned back to him, his eyes were burning, not with anger, but something darker. And then, to my absolute surprise, he grinned. “Mon amour,” he muttered, his voice rough with amusement. “You really are going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

I arched a brow. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Fine. We go together. But you stay by my side. You don’t speak unless I say so. You don’t move unless I tell you to. Understood?”

I smiled sweetly. “Of course.”

But we both knew I was lying.

** *

The drive to the event felt like something out of a nightmare.

The blacked-out car moved smoothly through the streets, but the further we went, the more my stomach knotted.

Rafe sat beside me, a storm of controlled violence.

He hadn’t spoken since we left the mansion–just sat there, watching the city slip by with that stony, unreadable expression.

The address led us far out of Manhattan into a part of the city I rarely visited. When the car finally stopped, I stared out the window at the building ahead. It looked like an old warehouse–abandoned, decrepit–but the line of sleek, expensive cars parked outside told a different story.

“Stay close,” Rafe said quietly, and I didn’t argue this time.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the low hum of conversation. It was a crowd of wealth and corruption, all glitter and darkness. Men in tailored suits, women draped in silk and diamonds, but the tension was suffocating. It wasn’t a party. It was a battleground.

The room’s attention shifted the moment we walked in. Eyes followed Rafe and, by extension, me. I kept my head high and my face calm, but my pulse hammered in my throat. The atmosphere here was wrong. Heavy.

“Rafe,” a voice called out, smooth, amused, and ice-cold.

I turned, and my stomach dropped.

Nicolas Moreau.

He smiled like a predator, his tousled blonde hair styled perfectly and brown eyes oddly mesmerizing.

I swallowed hard. He wore a nice pair of khaki pants and a white button-up shirt.

He was…gorgeous. Surprisingly, he appeared in his thirties.

I did know that he took over from his aunt and uncle after they were murdered by an arms dealer.

“Adela Sinclair,” he said, and my blood went cold. “What an honor. ”

Rafe’s body shifted closer to mine, a silent warning. “Alright, Moreau. What do you want?”

“Oh, this isn’t about what I want.” Moreau’s eyes flicked to me, and his smile widened. “It’s about what she deserves.”

My skin prickled. “And what’s that?”

“You’re a very lovely woman.” He stepped closer, and even Rafe went still. “But the man you’re tying yourself to? He’s poison. He’ll destroy everything you’ve built. And when he’s done, he’ll destroy you, too. This man is incapable of anything close to love...or kindness.”

The room went silent, and I was sure I stopped breathing.

But before I could respond, Rafe moved, and the violence in his eyes was a promise. “You’ve said enough,” he growled.

Moreau only smiled. “Have I? This lovely and powerful woman is practically signing her death by being involved with you. Like a fully bloomed rose crumbling under a scorching sun. She’s a Sinclair , afterall.”

The air between them was a goddamn live wire. And I realized, with a sick kind of clarity, that we were standing on the edge of a fucking blade. What did he mean by that?

Moreau tilted his head, his smile sharpening. “Since you’re both here…” He gestured toward the far end of the room, where heavy iron doors swung open. “Why don’t you stay for the show?”

The crowd shifted, murmurs rising like a low hiss. Who even were these people? Rafe’s hand closed around my wrist, his grip like a vice, but I didn’t pull away.

“What kind of show?” I asked, keeping my voice cool despite the unease curling in my gut.

Moreau’s eyes gleamed. “The kind that separates the strong from the weak. The loyal from the…expendable.”

Before I could respond, people began moving toward the doors, and Rafe pulled me with them. His jaw was tight, and his muscles wound. “We shouldn’t be here,” he muttered under his breath .

“Too late for that,” I whispered back.

The room we entered was darker and colder. The walls were lined with flickering torches that seemed to be the only heat source. At the center stood a raised platform, and when the crowd circled around it, I realized what we were about to witness.

A man knelt on the platform, his head bowed, arms bound behind him. Blood streaked his face, his clothes torn and stained. The low hum of anticipation rippled through the room. This wasn’t just a show. It was an execution.

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding. “What is this?”

Rafe didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the man, his entire body radiating tension.

Moreau’s voice rang out, smooth and chilling. “Betrayal has a cost. And tonight, you’ll see what happens when debts go unpaid .”

The man on the platform lifted his head, and my breath stopped. I recognized him. He was one of Rafe’s men.

“Wha–”

“Hush.” Rafe kept his gaze locked on the man.

The crowd stilled as Moreau approached the platform, a knife glinting in his hand. But he didn’t strike. Not yet. Instead, his eyes found mine. “What would you do, Adela Sinclair , if your empire was threatened? If someone you trusted turned against you?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Moreau smiled. “Would you show mercy? Or would you make an example?”

I felt Rafe’s breath on my ear, his voice low. “Don’t answer him.”

But the crowd was watching. Waiting. And Moreau wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his words a whisper of poison. “Be careful who you stand beside, Adela. Some men are far more dangerous than they seem.”

Before I could react, the knife flashed, and the screaming began .

Rafe’s grip tightened on me as the blood splattered. And when I looked at him, his face was stone, but his eyes burned with the promise of vengeance.

“Rafe–”

He yanked me away from the sight. “We’re going.”

***

The ride back from the event was steeped in heavy silence. Rafe sat next to me in the back of the limo, his posture relaxed, but there was nothing calm about him. It was the kind of quiet that warned of destruction.

My pulse hadn’t settled. My mind spun, but I kept my expression smooth, watching Rafe from the corner of my eye. The sharp line of his jaw. The way his fingers tapped slow, measured beats against his thigh. He was planning. Calculating.

Finally, he pulled his phone out. His voice was lethally calm in every word. “I want Moreau’s shipment locations. Now.”

A pause. His eyes stayed on mine, dark and unreadable. “No mistakes. I want confirmation within the hour.”

He ended the call without waiting for a response.

My throat was dry. “What are we going to do?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head, studying me like he was deciding how much to tell me. Then, that slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth.

“He won’t expect such an immediate retaliation. He drew first blood,” Rafe said softly. “So I’m going to fucking drown him in it.”

And just like that, the fear shifted, twisting into something that felt too much like excitement.

When we got back to the mansion, he didn’t have to tell me what was happening. I already knew. Rafe’s men moved quickly, arming up and gathering whatever intel they needed. In his office, a map of the city was spread across the table, red marks already pinning down their targets.

My fingers brushed the cool weight of my own gun. When I slid it into the holster at my thigh, I felt his eyes on me. A flash of approval, a flicker of admiration.

“Stay close to me,” Rafe said, his voice low and rough. “Can’t have you getting hurt again.”

I just arched a brow. “I wasn’t planning on holding your coat.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good.”