Page 34 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

I gathered my things and stepped out into the cool evening air. The black car waited at the curb, sleek and silent, and when I slid into the backseat, his presence filled the space immediately.

He watched me with that unreadable expression, his hand resting on his thigh. “Productive day?”

“Interesting day.” I glanced out the window, watching the city blur past. “Laura’s going to kill me.”

“Not if Moreau gets there first,” he said dryly.

I shot him a look. “You’re hilarious. But in all seriousness, Laura might murder us both.”

For a moment, we allowed silence to fill the air between us. Then his voice softened. “I don’t like you being there.”

“I know. You don’t have to like it,” I sighed, glancing out the window. “But you’re going to have to deal with it. I am protecting what Moreau desperately wants to rip apart.” I paused, locking my gaze with his. “You.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he was silent the rest of the way home.

***

The night was warm, the kind of summer evening that felt like silk against the skin.

Rafe’s back patio overlooked sprawling gardens and the soft, golden lights that lined the pathways below.

Above us, the sky was an endless black velvet, scattered with stars, and the air smelled faintly of jasmine and the embers of the fire he’d just lit.

It should’ve felt peaceful. But the quiet between us was heavy. It felt like life had just turned into a stress-fest. And, well, it did.

Rafe sat across from me on one of the low, sleek outdoor couches, his face bathed in the flickering glow of the flames.

His white shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, the same arms that had held me down, pinned me against silk sheets and made me crave things I never should have.

But tonight, those hands were still. Resting on his knees, his fingers tapping out a slow, thoughtful rhythm.

He was thinking. Planning. But not about me.

I watched him for a long moment, then forced a smile. “You know, this place is pretty peaceful at night.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes stayed distant.

“I like the air, the stars, the fire…” I said softly, my eyes moving over the fire. “And you.”

That got his attention. His sharp gaze flicked up to mine. But he didn’t say anything.

The silence continued. I tried again.

“You’ve never told me much about this house. Did you buy it, or–”

“Adela,” he cut in, his voice smooth but clipped. “How confident are you in your system’s firewalls?”

I blinked. What I said to him in the car must have stuck with him. “Seriously?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We still don’t know how deep Moreau’s reach goes. I need to know if there’s any chance–”

“Rafe.” My voice sharpened, frustration curling through me. “I told you. Sinclair Solutions is airtight. Even you couldn’t get in without my knowledge.”

He didn’t flinch. “Everyone thinks they’re impenetrable until one day, they aren’t.”

“Don’t you dare insult me,” I shot back. “I know what I’ve built from the ashes of what my father handed me.”

“Fine.” He clenched his jaw. “Part of me is surprised you’re still here.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and for the first time all night, his entire body stilled. The fire crackled between us, and I forced myself to meet his eyes, even as my heart thumped hard against my ribs.

“Why are you really keeping me here?” I asked quietly. “Is it me you want? Or my business? Are you trying to protect something so desperately that you’re willing to hurt me in the process?” The words hung there. And when he didn’t answer right away, my stomach twisted.

He didn’t deny it.

I looked away, suddenly too warm. Too exposed.

The scent of the fire shifted, smoky and sweet, dragging me back.

Back to memories of my mother’s perfume and the flicker of candlelight in her eyes when she cried.

The way she’d whispered my name through trembling lips after my father had left another bruise, not always on her skin, but on her heart.

She’d loved him, even when it destroyed her.

And I… I was starting to understand why.

“Adela– ”

“Don’t,” I whispered. My throat tightened, and I hated it. “You don’t get to fuck me, burn down a warehouse and kill people together, and then act like I’m just another business asset.”

The firelight danced over his face, casting it in shadows. “You’re not–”

“Then what am I?” My voice was strong. “Tell me. What is this?”

For a long time, he didn’t speak. And when he did, his voice was so soft it felt like a touch. “I don’t know.”

It wasn’t enough.

The fear in my chest spread, cold and insidious. I swallowed it down and stood, brushing imaginary wrinkles from my dress. “I should go inside.”

But before I could take a step, his hand caught my wrist.

“Adela.” His grip was warm and firm, not enough to hold me but enough to stop me. “Don’t.”

I closed my eyes. “You want my company. You want my body.”

“I want more than that.”

“Then say it.” I looked down at him, my heart in my throat. “Because I’m not going to be my mother, Rafe. I won’t love a man who only sees me as an object or a weapon to be used.”

The fire popped between us. And still, he didn’t say it.

My heart cracked.

“I thought so.” I tugged my hand free, the cool air biting against my skin where his warmth had been. “Good night, Rafe.”

I didn’t look back. Because I wasn’t sure I could handle what I’d see if I did.