RAFFAEL I led Erica into the restaurant, a modest, late-night pizza joint that smelled of melted cheese and warm dough. The kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. She stumbled slightly as we stepped inside, her fingers gripping my arm tighter than I expected. “Easy there,” I muttered, steadying her. “You’re not exactly graceful right now.” She tilted her head back to look at me, her lips pulling into a lopsided smile. “Oh, come on, Raffael. Where’s your sense of fun? Live a little.” “I am living. I just prefer to do it without making a scene.” She rolled her eyes and let go of my arm, staggering toward an empty table. “You’re no fun. And you think I’m the problem.” I sighed, following her to the table. She plopped down unceremoniously, resting her elbows on the surface and staring at the laminated menu like it held the secrets to the universe. “Do they have pizza with extra cheese?” she asked, her voice suddenly serious. “It’s a pizza place. Of course,
ERICA I woke up to a pounding headache and the faint smell of something unfamiliar—leather? It took a moment for my blurry eyes to adjust to the dim light streaming through my bedroom window. The ache in my head deepened as I sat up, but the sight that greeted me froze me mid-motion. Raffael. He was seated in the armchair next to my bed, his legs crossed, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t just here; he was staring at me, like he’d been waiting for me to wake up. “What the…” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?” “Good morning to you too,” he replied, his tone clipped. “You don’t remember?” My mind raced, the throbbing in my head making it harder to think. “Remember what?” Raffael stood, his imposing figure towering over me as he walked to the side of the bed. “Last night. You don’t remember anything?” And just like that, the memories slammed into me like a freight train. Running down the dark alley, the thugs chasing me. The pizza. Sitting in the m
ERICA I stood in the kitchen, my hands busy chopping vegetables for the salad, while my mind wandered elsewhere. The house was eerily quiet except for the faint sound of laughter coming from the living room. Raffael and Clarissa. I didn’t need to peek around the corner to know what was going on. Her high-pitched giggles and the sound of his low murmurs were enough to paint a picture. I tried not to think about it as I moved to set the table. The clinking of plates and cutlery against the wooden surface was louder than I expected, almost like it was trying to drown out the scene in my head. But as I turned to grab the glasses, my eyes accidentally landed on them. Clarissa was perched on Raffael’s lap, her perfectly manicured fingers tracing his jawline as she leaned in for a kiss. His arm rested lazily around her waist, his hand splayed possessively on her lower back. I quickly looked away, but a strange discomfort settled in my chest. Why does this bother me? I shook the thought
Clarissa stormed into Ray’s office, her heels clicking against the tiled floor with urgency. Ray looked up from his cluttered desk, his expression morphing from surprise to confusion as he saw her standing in front of him, her hands gripping the back of the chair across from him. “Clarissa,” he began, leaning back slightly. “What brings you here? You don’t usually…” “Raffael is on his way,” she interrupted, her tone sharp and urgent. Ray’s brows knitted together, perplexed. “Raffael? Here? Why? What’s going on?” Clarissa rolled her eyes, her frustration evident. “Why else would he be coming? It is because of Erica ofcourse. That stupid girl that somehow found a way to turn our lives upside down” The name dripped from her lips like venom. Ray sat up straighter, his confusion deepening. “Erica? What did she do now?” “That lousy new stripper reported some nonsense about being bullied in the club. And under your watch, no less,” Clarissa snapped. “She even showed Raffael some
Raffael’s icy presence filled the room as he stood at the entrance, eyes scanning over the girls who had been dancing with the men just moments ago. The music still thumped loudly, but the tension in the air was like a heavy storm waiting to break. He didn’t need to say much. The armed ladies were already moving toward the men whom the girls had been entertaining. “Leave this place,” Raffael’s voice was calm but deadly. “Now.” The man closest to him, a burly figure with a thick beard, turned and scoffed, trying to mask his unease with bravado. “We paid much to have them tonight. We’ll leave when we’re ready. You can have them later.” Without warning, Raffael’s fist connected with the man’s gut, a sickening thud echoing through the space. The man gasped, stumbling backward, clutching his stomach, blood spilling from his lips as he hit the ground with a thud. Raffael didn’t flinch, his cold stare unwavering. “If I repeat myself, you’d be dead.” The other men froze, their faces
CLARISSA I stalked through the club, my heels clicking loudly against the marble floor, each step an echo of the anger boiling in my chest. The atmosphere was thick with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses, but I was too focused on my goal to notice. I was looking for them—Daisy, Melanie, and Chloe. As I reached the dressing room, I paused, hearing the muffled voices behind the door. I pushed it open, and the sight inside made my stomach twist. The three girls were sitting on the floor, the first aid kit scattered beside them. Melanie was wiping the blood off her arms with shaky hands, while Chloe was dabbing a cloth to her swollen cheek. Daisy winced as she adjusted her position, trying to ignore the pain in her side. They were a mess, bruised and battered, and it was clear that Raffael’s thuggish women hadn’t held back. The moment they saw me, their expressions shifted. They went from hurt to pure, seething anger. “Look who finally shows up,” Chloe hissed,
ERICA The room was quiet except for the soft sound of the mop sliding across the polished floor. I had been cleaning for nearly an hour, trying to distract myself from the nagging thoughts that had been swirling in my mind since last night. Ever since Clarissa cornered me and told me that Raffael had Chloe, Daisy, and Melanie beaten up, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I didn’t know how to feel. Should I be grateful? Should I confront him? The idea of speaking to him made my stomach churn. Raffael wasn’t the type of man you casually approached, especially when he looked as brooding and irritated as he did lately. I adjusted the mop in my hand, glancing toward the door. The air felt heavier when he was around, and the tension only grew when I heard his familiar footsteps echo in the hall. A second later, the door creaked open, and there he was. Raffael walked into the room without sparing me a glance, his face a mask of cold indifference. He headed straight to his closet, tug
ERICA DAYS LATER As the music started, I stepped onto the stage, trying to block out the leers and crude remarks. The bass thumped in my chest, and I moved to the rhythm like I always did, my hips swaying, my body bending to the demands of the performance. The whistles began almost immediately. "Yeah, work it, baby!" a man shouted from the corner, his words slurred with liquor. "Show us more!" another chimed in, laughing as he slapped the table. I twisted around the pole, letting the music guide me. I was good at pretending it didn’t bother me. A man sitting near the stage leaned forward, his gold chains glinting under the lights. He shoved a wad of cash into my bra with a cocky grin. "That’s for being a good girl," he said, his breath reeking of whiskey. As I spun around the pole, trying to shake off the emotions threatening to overwhelm me, something shifted. I felt it before I saw it—a pair of eyes burning into me. I glanced toward the back of the room, and my sto
Erica’s POVThe car ride home was silent. Tense.Raffael’s grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles white. His jaw was clenched, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his whole body radiated fury. The air inside the car was thick with unspoken words, a storm brewing between us that neither of us dared to unleash—yet.I sat stiffly in my seat, my arms crossed, my own anger simmering just beneath the surface. My heart was still pounding from the scene at the party. From the way Raffael had stormed over like I had committed some kind of crime. From the way he had grabbed me, dragged me out like I was his.He hadn’t said a word the entire drive, but I could feel the storm inside him.I refused to speak first.If he wanted to act like a raging lunatic, that was on him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of explaining myself when I had nothing to explain.The second we pulled into the driveway, he killed the engine and got out without a word. I barely had time to unclasp my seatb
Erica’s POVThe venue was grand—too grand, honestly. It was the kind of place where everything screamed wealth, from the crystal chandeliers dripping light over the ballroom to the marble floors that clicked softly under expensive heels. A symphony of laughter, murmured conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the scent of perfume and champagne.It was elegant. Luxurious. Completely suffocating.I adjusted the thin strap of my dress and tried not to groan out loud as yet another person approached Raffael, shaking his hand and exchanging polite conversation. I had been standing next to him for what felt like forever, smiling at strangers, nodding at things I wasn’t even listening to, and pretending I wasn’t absolutely exhausted.I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this.“Raffael,” I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “I need to sit down.”His grip on my waist tightened slightly. “Just a little longer, cara.”“No,” I pulled back slightly, looking up at
ERICA I stirred awake slowly, feeling the soft pull of consciousness dragging me out of sleep. The air was still, quiet, except for the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. My body felt heavy, cocooned in warmth, and for a moment, I wanted nothing more than to slip back into the comfort of sleep. But something felt… off. Like I wasn’t alone. A strange, prickling sensation crawled up my spine, the kind you get when you’re being watched. My brows furrowed as I shifted slightly, stretching my legs beneath the plush covers. The feeling didn’t go away. I hesitated before finally cracking my eyes open, my vision blurry at first. As the haze cleared, my gaze landed on the doorway—and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. Raffael. Standing there. Watching me. I shot up so fast that the blanket pooled around my waist. A startled gasp ripped from my throat. “Oh my God! What the hell are you doing?!” Raffael didn’t even flinch. He just leaned against the doorframe, arms cros
ERICA The disposable camera hung loosely from my wrist as we walked out of the store, Raffael’s words still echoing in my head: “The real fun begins now.” I wasn’t sure what his idea of fun was, but so far, I had to admit he’d done a good job of keeping things lighthearted. The thought made me smile as we strolled down the street, his presence steady beside me. We’d spent the morning walking through the city, and though the camera was supposed to be for me to capture things that caught my attention, I noticed Raffael was snapping pictures, too—mostly of me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I called him out once, playfully swatting at his hand as he clicked another sneaky shot. “You’re supposed to be capturing the scenery, not stalking me with that thing.” “I am capturing the scenery,” he replied with a smirk. “You just happen to be the most interesting part of it.” I scoffed but couldn’t stop the heat from rising to my cheeks. I turned my attention to the bustling streets, takin
ERICA The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, pulling me from my sleep. I stretched lazily, the ache of yesterday’s travel still lingering in my bones. For a moment, I lay there in silence, taking in the comfort of the plush bed beneath me. I hadn’t even realized how exhausted I was when we arrived yesterday. The moment we stepped into Raffael’s penthouse, sleep had taken over, leaving me with no energy to explore my surroundings. Sitting up, I finally took the time to look around the room. It was breathtaking—spacious yet intimate, with large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. The walls were a soft cream color, accented with abstract artwork that looked like it cost more than I could ever imagine. The furniture was sleek and modern, with a cozy touch that made the room feel warm despite its size. A large chandelier hung above, its crystals catching the morning light and scattering tiny rainbows across the walls. It felt like stepping into a dif
ERICAThe early morning air was crisp and carried the faint scent of jet fuel as I followed Raffael onto his private jet. The sleek design of the aircraft, with its polished leather seats and pristine interior, screamed luxury, and I couldn’t help but feel out of place as I climbed the steps. This was a world I didn’t belong in, but here I was, trapped in it nonetheless. Raffael strode ahead of me, his presence commanding as always, while I trailed behind, trying not to let my nervousness show. This was the first time I’d been on a private jet, and the idea of being thousands of feet in the air in such close quarters with him made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t fully understand—or want to. I settled into one of the plush seats near the window, hoping to distract myself by staring out at the empty runway. Raffael sat across from me, already scrolling through his phone, completely unfazed by the extravagance surrounding us. I envied how calm and composed he always seemed, as if not
ERICA I sat on the couch, a book open in my lap, my eyes glued to the same paragraph I’d read three times already. It was supposed to be an escape, something to keep my mind occupied, but tonight, it wasn’t working. My thoughts kept drifting, pulling me away from the plot and back to the darker corners of my mind. The book was one of those suspenseful thrillers, full of secrets and betrayals, the kind of story that would normally have me hooked. But every twist on the page only reminded me of the real-life twists that had unfolded recently. Every deceit, every bit of violence written so neatly in these chapters felt uncomfortably close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about Chloe. She was gone, really gone. The realization still hit me like a cold slap every time it resurfaced. No matter how hard I tried to move past it, her face would flash in my mind—her smirks, her sneers, the way she’d always made me feel so small and out of place. Chloe and I had never been friends, not even
CLARISSA I couldn’t stop pacing. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest, and every breath I took felt shallow and labored. Ray’s living room, usually calm and orderly, now felt like it was closing in on me. The walls seemed smaller, the air suffocating, and no matter how much I tried to slow my thoughts, they kept spiraling. My hands shook as I ran them through my hair, my palms clammy. “I can’t do this, Ray,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. My voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything I was feeling. “Clarissa, stop,” Ray said for the fifth time, his voice low and calm, but it only frustrated me further. He stood by the couch, leaning against the armrest with his arms crossed, as though we were discussing something trivial. His composure made me want to scream. “Stop?” I snapped, spinning around to glare at him. “How do you expect me to stop when everything is falling apart? Chloe is dead, Ray!
ERICA DAYS LATER This past few days had been… strange. Raffael had been unusually busy, barely around the house. It was almost like he’d disappeared into thin air. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to come home later and later every night. Not that I could complain—he’d practically ordered me to stay away from the club. His exact words were, “You’re not setting foot there for a while.” I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t about to press him for answers. A part of me was relieved, though. It meant I was temporarily free from being his personal maid or errand girl at the club. For once, I could just… exist. My days had settled into a quiet, repetitive rhythm: cleaning the house, reading whatever I could find in the mansion’s massive library, and taking long walks in the gardens. The nights, however, were different. Lonely. The mansion felt hollow without him here. Not that I’d admit it to myself, but his absence left an emptiness I didn’t know how to fill. I’d sit at the din