ERICA Days blurred into each other, heavy with an oppressive silence that seemed to cling to the walls of Raffael’s house. I spent most of my time holed up in the kitchen or my room, avoiding him whenever possible. It had been days since that night at the club, and I hadn’t seen much of him since. I should’ve been relieved. Grateful, even. But the memory of his touch lingered like an unwelcome ghost, refusing to fade. I hated myself for how easily I’d given in, for how my body had betrayed me in that moment. What’s wrong with you, Erica? I thought bitterly as I stirred a pot of marinara sauce on the stove. You’re supposed to be smarter than this. Stronger than this. I told myself I was lucky. Raffael had kept his distance, only appearing sporadically in the house, leaving me to my own devices. I prayed it would stay that way. The less I saw him, the better. I was just plating the pasta when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me. My heart jumped, and I froze, gripping th
ERICA The tension in the air felt suffocating as I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been over thirty minutes since Raffael had ordered me upstairs, and I had obeyed like a scolded child. Now, thirst clawed at my throat, the dryness an excuse to leave this room that felt more like a prison with every passing second. But I hesitated. What if Raffael was still downstairs? He’d told me to go to my room, and I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he saw me wandering around. I hated the thought of facing him—his dark eyes filled with whatever storm brewed behind them. Still, I reasoned with myself, I couldn’t stay in here forever. It was just water. If he asked, I’d explain. Simple. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of conversation coming from downstairs. As I walked cautiously, the murmur of voices grew louder. Passing by the door to Raffael’s study, I paused. The door
ERICA The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the kitchen in a soft golden glow. I tried to keep my head down and stay as far away from Raffael as possible. He was seated in the dining area, a newspaper folded neatly on the table and a stack of papers in front of him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a pen in his hand as he occasionally jotted down notes. It was one of the rare moments when the house felt somewhat peaceful, even if the air was still heavy with his presence. I focused on scrubbing a stubborn stain off the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. “Erica,” his deep voice cut through the silence, making me jump slightly. I turned around, gripping the cloth in my hand. “Yes?” “Coffee,” he said without looking up. “Bring me a cup.” I nodded quickly. “Right away.” Keeping my movements as quiet as possible, I set about making his coffee. The machine whirred softly, the aroma of freshly brewed espresso filling the air. As I poured the stea
ERICA The mop’s handle felt rough against my palm as I wrung out the damp cloth for the third time. I had been scrubbing the tiles in Raffael’s bedroom for almost half an hour, and the smell of disinfectant clung to my skin. My body ached from the punishment he had given me yesterday, the heat of the sun still haunting my memory. I could still feel the prickling sensation on my knees, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw his cold, unbothered expression as he told me to stay there until he decided I’d had enough. “Just focus,” I muttered to myself, trying to push the thoughts aside. The room was unnervingly spotless. His black bedsheets were always tucked in with military precision. His furniture gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead light. Even the air carried his scent—a mix of musk and cedarwood that felt suffocating. Cleaning his room felt like walking on thin ice; everything about him was sharp, calculated, and terrifying. I moved to the counter near the far wall, wipi
ERICA The sharp beam of headlights cut through the darkness, washing over me. I froze, clutching my bag so tightly to my chest that I felt the rough fabric dig into my palms. My heart pounded wildly, each thud echoing in my ears and drowning out the gentle symphony of chirping crickets.Why is he back so early? Did he forget anything? Damn! Of all the days he decided to come back early! Breathe, Erica. Think. I dropped to the ground, scrambling into the bushes near the gate. The thorny branches scratched my arms and snagged the hem of my shirt, but I barely noticed. My focus was entirely on keeping my breathing steady, shallow, silent. The car door opened. Even without seeing his face, I knew it was him. Raffael. His broad shoulders caught the faint glow of the car’s interior light. His movements were deliberate, calm. Every step he took exuded an unshakable confidence, as if he already knew exactly what he’d find. No. He couldn’t have seen me. He couldn’t. I pressed my body lo
ERICA I didn’t dare look back. Every part of me screamed to stop, to rest, but the fear pounding in my chest wouldn’t let me. My legs moved on their own, fueled by pure adrenaline, while the cold night air bit at my skin. My heart hammered wildly, my lungs burned, and every desperate breath felt like it wasn’t enough. Behind me, his voice rose, sharp and angry, cutting through the still night like a blade. “Erica! Stop!” Raffael’s shout carried authority, the kind that could make someone freeze on instinct. Not me. Not tonight. I gritted my teeth, pushing myself harder, my steps quick and uneven. “No!” I yelled over my shoulder, the word raw and trembling. My voice felt small, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the dark street. “I can’t! You don’t understand—I have to go!” “You’re only making this worse for yourself!” he bellowed. His voice sounded closer, and I felt a shiver run through me. “Stop now, or you’ll regret it!” Regret? His words pierced my mind, their meaning twis
ERICA When I opened my eyes, the whiteness almost blinded me. The room was so bright it felt unnatural, like stepping into a void. The walls, the ceiling, the sheets—everything was searingly white, almost sterile. A faint, rhythmic beeping filled the air, syncing with the pounding in my head. I blinked a few times, my vision blurry, and tried to move. The slightest shift made my head throb, the pain radiating down my neck. I groaned softly, squeezing my eyes shut. Where was I? The smell of antiseptic answered the question before my brain could catch up. A hospital. I was in a hospital. But why? Then it all hit me at once. Running. The woods. The tree. The crash. Raffael. The memories came in flashes, disjointed and overwhelming. I remembered his voice chasing me through the night, the fear that drove me to keep running, the moment my body slammed into the tree. My stomach turned, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I lifted my hand to touch my head, but something stopped me.
ERICA The white walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me with their sterile brightness. The steady beeping of the heart monitor was a cruel metronome, marking the endless minutes I spent in silence. The ache in my chest had nothing to do with my injuries—it was the hollow emptiness of waiting. Waiting for him. It had been an entire day. Twenty-four hours since Raffael had walked out, his anger sharp and biting, his words cutting deeper than the wound on my head. I hadn’t expected him to apologize; that wasn’t who Raffael was. But I had expected… something. A glimpse of concern, even if it was disguised as irritation. I stared at the clock on the wall, the second hand ticking forward relentlessly. Morning had turned to afternoon, then evening, and still no sign of him. Why does it matter? I scolded myself. You wanted him to leave you alone. You wanted space. But the ache in my chest betrayed me. It did matter. And that infuriated me. I trie
MONTHS LATERThe hospital room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of the monitors and the occasional cooing sound from the tiny bundle in Erica’s arms. Warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow over the space. It felt peaceful—like the whole world had stilled just for this moment.Raffael sat beside the hospital bed, his eyes never leaving them. His wife. His child. His entire world wrapped up in a single frame. He had never known a love like this before, never imagined he could feel so much all at once.“She’s perfect,” he murmured, reaching out to gently trace a finger over their daughter’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly, her fingers curling instinctively around his. His heart clenched.Erica let out a soft laugh, exhaustion evident in her voice, but her eyes shone with warmth. “She has your nose.”Raffael smirked. “And your lips.”Erica glanced down at their baby, brushing her thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s
ERICA’S POVThe house felt strangely quiet after Clarissa and her mother left, as if all the tension had been sucked out of the air along with them.Raffael’s mother, still standing in the middle of the living room, let out a long, tired sigh. She turned to her son, her expression softer now—almost vulnerable.“I owe you an apology,” she said quietly. “I should have told you the truth a long time ago.”Raffael didn’t respond immediately. His jaw was tight, his hands still clenched at his sides. I could tell he was still processing everything that had just happened.His mother continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Clarissa’s mother has used this secret to blackmail me for years. Every time I tried to stand my ground, she would threaten to tell you. I was so afraid of losing you, of what you might think of me.” She swallowed hard. “But today… today, you stood up for me.”Raffael finally exhaled, his shoulders loosening just slightly. He stepped forward, his voice steady. “Nothing wi
ERICA’S POVIt had been a week since we got back from Chicago, but the tension in the air made it feel like no time had passed at all.Things should have felt different. The house should have felt like home again. But instead, it felt like we were holding our breath, waiting for the next storm to hit.And today, it finally did.Raffael’s mother had insisted on this meeting. She claimed it was necessary after Clarissa went to her, sobbing about their engagement being over. Raffael had been furious when he found out. He didn’t want to see Clarissa, let alone entertain her or her mother in his house. He had made it clear that whatever history they shared was over.But in the end, he agreed.Not for Clarissa. Not for her mother.For his own mother. And, in some way, for me.Now, we sat in the living room, and whatever peace we had hoped to maintain had long since shattered.Clarissa’s mother sat stiffly across from us, her face pinched in disapproval. Her sharp gaze moved between Raffael
ERICA’S POVI sat in the living room, curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the coffee table. My hands rested in my lap, fingers intertwined, squeezing together every now and then just to feel something—anything—other than the dull ache in my chest.The house was quiet. Unsettlingly so.The silence pressed in from all sides, heavy and suffocating, amplifying the thoughts I had tried so hard to push away. The weight of it sat in my chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.I hadn’t seen Raffael since last night. Since that moment. Since my world turned upside down.I told myself I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to see him, that I didn’t need to hear whatever excuse he had prepared.But the truth was, I had spent the whole day waiting.Waiting for him to come to me.Waiting for him to explain.Waiting for something.Something that never came.The hours stretched painfully, each second dragging on longer than the last. Every small sound in the house made my heart jolt, only
RAFFAELThe conference room was empty, silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. I paced back and forth, dragging a hand through my hair, my thoughts a chaotic mess.I hadn’t slept.Not a second.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on Erica’s face when she walked in last night—the shock, the hurt, the betrayal. It burned into my mind like a wound that wouldn’t close. She hadn’t given me a chance to explain, hadn’t let me tell her that I pulled away the second Clarissa kissed me.But why would she?She had every right to shut me out.I had spent the entire night waiting for her to open her door, knocking, calling her name, begging for just a second of her time—but she never did. The silence on the other side of that door was louder than any words she could have said.And this morning?Nothing.Not a single sign of her.The realization that she didn’t even want to see me twisted like a knife in my chest.I clenched my jaw, my hands fisting at my sides as I turned
ERICA’S POVThe moment Raffael pulled away, everything inside me shattered.I stood frozen in the doorway, my feet rooted to the floor, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. My vision blurred as my brain struggled to process what I had just seen. Raffael. Clarissa. Their lips.I felt sick.Clarissa’s eyes landed on me first. The corners of her lips curled into a smug, knowing smirk, and her gaze flicked between me and Raffael like she had just won some twisted game.Then Raffael turned. The second he saw me, all the color drained from his face, his eyes going wide with shock and something that almost looked like fear.“Erica—” His voice was sharp, urgent, desperate.But I didn’t wait to hear whatever excuse he had.I turned and ran.My heart pounded violently against my ribs, my stomach twisting into painful knots as I rushed down the hallway. I could hear the quick, heavy thuds of Raffael’s footsteps right behind me, hear the way he called my name, voice full of urg
RAFFAEL’S POVI sat at my desk, fingers flying over the keyboard as I worked, my eyes fixed on the screen. The glow from the monitor was the only source of light in the dark room, creating shadows across the walls. The document in front of me was filled with numbers, reports, projections—things that required my attention. Things that demanded focus. And that was exactly what I needed right now.Work had always been my escape. The one thing I could rely on when everything else felt out of my control. It was predictable, structured—unlike the chaos unraveling in my personal life. Numbers didn’t change on a whim. Spreadsheets didn’t come with complicated emotions. Deadlines didn’t demand explanations.Unlike Clarissa.I clenched my jaw, fingers pressing harder against the keys.Everything between us had spiraled so fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I hadn’t planned for tonight to end in a fight, hadn’t expected to break things off with her in such a brutal, final way. But it had
ERICA’S POVThe room felt frozen.Clarissa stood in the doorway, her gaze flickering between me and Raffael, her expression unreadable for a moment—until she laughed.A sharp, manic laugh that sent a chill down my spine.Raffael tensed immediately. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he slowly stood up. I could feel the shift in his demeanor, the way his entire body stiffened in shock.“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low, controlled—but I could hear the irritation bleeding through.Clarissa smirked, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder as she stepped inside, completely unbothered by the tension crackling in the room.“Is this why you didn’t bother telling me about your little trip?” she drawled, sauntering past him like she owned the place. “So you could sneak off with her and let her warm your bed?”My heart pounded.Raffael inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as he turned to face her. “Clarissa, don’t start—”“Oh, I will start,” she snapped, turning t
ERICA’S POVIt had been a week.Seven days since Raffael had looked me in the eyes and told me he loved me. Seven days since he’d shattered every assumption I’d ever had about him. Seven days since I’d decided—against my better judgment—to give him a chance to prove it.And in those seven days, I had seen a version of him I never thought existed.It still didn’t feel real.I kept expecting the old Raffael to slip through the cracks—the cold, arrogant man who had once treated me like an inconvenience. The one who barely acknowledged me unless it was to make a sharp remark or push me away. But that man had seemingly vanished, replaced by someone… softer.Not soft—Raffael could never be soft. But different. Gentler.He still had that quiet intensity, that unwavering confidence that made it seem like the whole world revolved around him. But now, that intensity was directed toward me in ways I didn’t know how to handle.He brought me flowers every morning—fresh, beautiful arrangements that