ROXANNE POV
Slowly, I turned to face him, my back pressed firmly against the wood. He loomed over me, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence both intimidating and impossible to ignore. "I—I’m sorry." I stammered. "I asked you a question." He murmured, his voice low and commanding. "She’s...she’s in the kitchen. Eating Pancakes." I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. His eyes narrowed, studying me like he was peeling back every layer to uncover the truth. I stood frozen under his scrutiny, feeling small but unwilling to look away. "What’s your name?" He finally asked, his voice quieter. "Roxanne." I breathed, barely audible. His gaze didn’t falter, moving over my face like he was memorizing every detail. After what felt like forever, he stepped back. The gun in his hand, no longer pointed it at me. How did he even find—I watched as he eased himself back onto the bed. The gun rested loosely in his grip now, though his wariness lingered. Relief coursed through me as I turned to the cabinet. My hands moved deliberately, retrieving the bottle of pain pills. I could feel his gaze burning into me, sharp and calculating, as though he expected me to make a sudden move. I handed him the bottle cautiously, my breath hitching as his eyes flicked between the label and my face. He sniffed the bottle like he didn’t trust what I’d given him, then downed two pills with a swig of water after noticing the sealed water for a moment. The tension in his face softened slightly, though the wince he gave when his hand grazed his bandaged chest betrayed the pain he was still feeling. His posture seemed less threatening—wary, but no longer on the edge of attack. It didn’t make me feel any safer, but it was something. "I’m sorry I hit you with my car. It was an accident..." I blurted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. My nerves had me on autopilot, apologizing without hesitation. "I, uh…I also got the bullet removed from your arm and had a doctor check on you." I added, glancing at the bandages wrapped around his chest. "The doctor said nothing’s broken, but you’ve got a few bruised ribs. Blood loss too. You’ll be in pain for a few weeks, maybe a month." I tried to steady my voice, but the weight of his intense gaze made it difficult. His brow lifted slightly, like he was trying to piece everything together. "You hit me with your bloody car?" He repeated. His dark eyes narrowed and I instinctively stepped back, my stomach tightening. "It was an accident!" I rushed to explain. "You came out of nowhere at a green light...Please don’t press charges. I don’t have much money and I had to quit my job." I admitted, my voice faltering. "But if your condition gets worse, I’ll...I'll figure something out to cover your medical bills. I promise." The words tumbled from me, each one more desperate than the last. He leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine as he dragged a hand through his messy black hair. The casual motion left it ruffled, effortlessly adding to his disheveled appearance. "And how, exactly, do you plan to pay my medical bills if you’re out of work?" His voice carried a mix of sarcasm and genuine curiosity, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips annoyed me. I pressed my lips together, as I realized how ridiculous I sounded. "I’ll get another job." I muttered, nodding to convince myself than him. He exhaled heavily, his gaze roaming the room, taking in every detail as if sizing me up. "How old are you?" He asked abruptly, nudging my favorite stuffed animal off the bed like it was nothing. I blinked at the bear on the floor, irritation flaring in my chest. "That’s none of your damn business." I shot back, scooping it up and placing it firmly back on the bed. He scoffed, as his gaze lingered on me, dissecting me like I was a puzzle he didn't care to solve but couldn't help studying. "You’re what…twenty?" He guessed, his tone laced with faint amusement. "You’ve got that look—young, naïve, still trying to figure out where you fit in the world." My jaw tightened at the casual, almost dismissive way he assessed me, like he had me all figured out in seconds. "Right," I snapped, arms crossing over my chest. "And I’m guessing you’re—what?" "Thirty? Thirty-five? Huh?" My tone was sharp, though I couldn’t ignore the obvious age gap between us. He looked late twenties, maybe older, while I was barely nineteen. He chuckled, a low sound that caught me off guard. "I’m twenty-nine, kitten." Kitten? The nickname rolled off his tongue effortlessly, sending an involuntary jolt through me, though his mocking grin quickly turned it into annoyance. "Don't call me that." I muttered flatly, grabbing onto anything that felt like composure. He leaned back slightly, his lips twisting into a faint smirk as if my defiance amused him more than anything else. Without waiting for more of his teasing, I turned toward the sofa, where his clothes sat tucked inside a bag. "Here’s your stuff. I’ll check on Angelina." I murmured, placing the bag on the bed before turning on my heel and stepping out of the room. The door clicked shut behind me and I sagged against it, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My pulse was still racing, my thoughts a mess of unease and second-guessing. Pressing my palms against the door, I forced myself to push away the tension. Focus. Running a hand through my hair, I straightened up and headed back to the kitchen. "Angelina, are you doing okay?" I asked softly as I approached. She was still perched on the stool, her little legs swinging back and forth as she nursed a glass of milk. At the sound of my voice, she looked up, her face breaking into a wide grin. "Yeah!" She chirped, her voice bright and cheerful. Relief washed over me and I managed a smile. "Good." I replied gently, leaning against the counter to watch her for a moment. Kitten, seriously though?ROXANNE POV "Daddy!" Angelina’s excited giggle floated through the air as I stood at the sink, my hands buried in soapy water. Turning around, I spotted Raphaël stepping into the kitchen, his tall frame filling the doorway. Angel clung to his feet, giggling as he shuffled forward. Our gazes met briefly and for a split second, there was a strange tension in the air. He placed a phone on the counter, breaking the silence. "I borrowed your phone to make a call." He explained, his tone matter-of-fact. His eyes drifted to Angelina, his expression softening. "Wait, what?" I frowned, drying my hands quickly with a dish towel. Picking up the phone, I stared at the lock screen. "How did you even access my phone? It’s locked." I held it up, arching a brow. Raphaël lifted Angelina effortlessly into his arms, his movements calm and fluid as she nestled against him. "I have my ways." He replied, his voice carrying an unbothered confidence. His vague response didn’t sit well wi
ROXANNE POV Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. "Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m not going to the cops or anyone else, okay?" "You can all just leave and forget I even exist." I tried to keep my tone firm, hoping they’d understand I meant it. The ginger-haired man scoffed behind me, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You really expect us to buy that?" I turned, meeting his skeptical eyes head-on. "If I wanted to, I would’ve done it the second I saw his Glock Model 40." My eyes darted to Raphaël as I spoke. The room fell silent, their expressions unreadable as they exchanged glances. Fred finally broke the silence, smirking as he leaned back against the countertop. "Alright then. What’s your price for keeping quiet? Money?" His tone was mocking, the slight arch of his brow making it clear he was testing me. "Keep what quiet, exactly? And I don’t want your money," I shot back, standing my ground. The truth was, I could use the money. G
ROXANNE POV His hand gripped my neck—not tight enough to choke but enough to make his point. His other hand pressed against the fridge just above my shoulder, trapping me. My mouth parted in shock, my eyes locking with his. The sly smirk curving his lips sent a shiver down my spine. "Don’t toy with me, kitten." He murmured, the nickname laced with sarcasm. "Kitten...funny, isn’t it? Something so small and harmless, yet trying to claw its way out of trouble." His smirk widened. "But if I find out you’re lying..." He leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper near my ear, "...well, let’s just say tearing you to pieces won’t be off the table." The words sent a chill through me, but it wasn’t just the threat that had my stomach twisting. It was the way his gaze dropped to my lips and back to my eyes, predatory and unnervingly calm. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the glint in his eyes reminded me too much of Kendrick and Garry. That same quiet menace, the kind
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV As soon as we pulled into the estate, Fred’s irritation became impossible to ignore. He wasn’t the type to leave anything unsaid, especially when it came to loose ends. He sat quietly beside me, his jaw clenched as though trying to bite back whatever remark was brewing. Finally, as we parked, he broke his silence. "Was it smart to let her walk away, Boss?" I shifted Angel’s weight in my arms, she was fast asleep. "She’s not the issue right now." I said, flatly, keeping my voice low. Fred didn’t reply immediately, but his frown deepened. I stepped out of the car, Angel still clutching the teddy bear like it was the last safe thing in the world. "We’re already stretched thin trying to figure out who planted that bomb," Fred continued as we made our way inside the mansion. "Now you’ve got a civilian in the mix. That’s a liability." "She’s not going to be a problem." I shot back, as I carried Angel upstairs. "And you’re sure about that?" I did
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV "I swear, I don't know anything!" The bastard's voice cracked, the desperation leaking through every syllable. Adam shot me a look, unimpressed. His knuckles were already stained with blood, but he wasn't done. Not by a long shot. Adam was my third-in-command, my best enforcer—the kind of man who let his fists do the talking. And right now, his fists were saying a hell of a lot. I gave him a nod and he grinned darkly before driving another punch into the man's ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the basement. The guy let out a strangled cough, spitting blood onto the cold concrete. "I need a name." I said, my voice even. Controlled. Adam delivered another brutal hit and the suspect's head lolled forward, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I...I don't know..." His words were barely above a whisper, his swollen face almost unrecognizable. I sighed, unbuttoning my black trench coat. Handing it off to the new kid—my top recruit, who'd been driving
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV I let a small chuckle slip, shaking my head. "So that just leaves you." His breath hitched. He swallowed hard, shaking like a leaf. Then, he added, "I was the one who tipped them off...your men." I narrowed my eyes, my grip on the gun tightening. He coughed, spitting blood onto his lap. "When I found out you had a daughter...it didn't sit right. It...it wasn't part of the deal. Killing you was one thing, but the child..." He wheezed, shaking his head. "I warned them, before it went down." I stared at him for a long moment, my expression unreadable, recalling how my guys had gotten the tip just moments before it went down. "Should I show you mercy or thank you for that?" I asked flatly, tilting my head. His whole body tensed, like he wasn't sure if I was about to let him go or put a bullet between his eyes. "I swear, I...I didn't..." His voice cracked and he choked on a sob. I didn't give him the chance to finish. A single shot rang out. His body
ROXANNE POV I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs and I sucked in a slow breath, grounding myself. I wasn't in Garry's house anymore. I exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. The apartment was quiet, the soft glow of morning filtering through the curtains. Peaceful. My gaze landed on the half-empty mug of coffee sitting on the table. I must've dozed off watching whatever late-night movie had been playing. Rubbing a hand over my face, I reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Stretching out my stiff limbs, I pushed myself to my feet and headed toward the kitchen, craving something fresh and hot. It had been a few days since Raphaël walked out of here with Angelina. The eerie silence that followed their departure lingered like a ghost, unsettling yet oddly welcome. No sign of him, no sign of Kendrick. Not even Garry had tried sniffing me out. Maybe I'd been right—maybe they really didn't know where I was hiding. Ken had found my workp
ROXANNE POV "Take these." I placed the pills in his hand before stepping away to get him some water. He popped them into his mouth without hesitation, his voice cutting through the quiet as I handed him the glass. "Where are your folks?" The question came out of nowhere, catching me off guard. "My mother passed away and I'm not exactly close with my father." I answered curtly, purposely avoiding any mention of my stepfather. He swallowed the pills, barely giving me a moment before pressing further. "So, how long have you been on your own?" His persistence grated on me. "Why does my life matter to you?" I countered, grabbing a fresh roll of bandage. His eyes darkened slightly. "You answer if you want to stay alive." His tone was cold, unapologetic. I rolled my eyes, standing my ground. "If you really wanted to kill me, you would've done it already." For once, I stared him down, refusing to let him intimidate me. A strange sense of confidence bubbled up, steadying
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV Roxanne sighed, setting the chips bag down on the counter, her shoulders slumping. She shook her head slowly. "Even if you could help, Damien," She said quietly, "These people are brutal, heartless and I don’t want to risk getting anyone else hurt for my sake. Especially not Angelina." Her voice wavered at the end and when she turned to glance at me, I caught the shine in her eyes. A tear teetered along her lower lash line, threatening to fall. My jaw clenched at the sound of my daughter’s name—my daughter, born into this shitstorm by blood alone. Even if Roxanne had no idea about us, she was still trying to protect her. If only she knew what the Raphaël family truly was. If she had the faintest idea of who I am—a contract killer raised in a family of merciless tacticians, people who didn’t blink twice before pulling the trigger. I had blood on my hands long before I ever knew how to properly hold a wine glass. And still…this was exactly the answer I expe
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV I watched as Roxanne turned back toward the guy at the door, her shoulders visibly tense. She let out a soft sigh, one hand curling around the edge of the door. "Look," She said, voice tight but composed, "I’ll talk to your father today. I’ll give him the cash I have now, then pay the rest tomorrow." She paused, narrowing her eyes. "And I’ll forget this even happened." Her hand made a brief, dismissive gesture toward him—toward that—like she was trying to flick the memory away before it burned too deep. He scoffed. "Yeah, right." But then his eyes flicked to me again and I met his gaze. Calm. Cold. Steady. That was all it took. His smirk faltered. His throat bobbed with a hard gulp. And suddenly he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. "Well…uh—see you around then." He mumbled, shrinking back a little before turning and walking away down the hall. Roxanne didn’t move right away. She just stood there as the door clicked shut. Then she pressed her forehead
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV The second Fred’s name slipped from Thomas’s mouth, I didn’t wait for another word. I brushed past him, already heading down the short hall without glancing back. His footsteps followed mine. The bedroom door was cracked open. I pushed it and stepped inside. Fred lay propped against the pillows, pale and shirtless, the bandage at his side soaked through in a fresh patch of blood. He looked like hell, his eyes were open, barely, but alert enough to flick toward me the second I entered. He tried to sit up. "Don’t move," I ordered, calm but sharp. "You’re lucky she didn’t let you bleed out on her carpet." A flicker of a smirk ghosted his lips. Or maybe it was the pain warping his face. "She could’ve left me to die," He rasped, his voice hoarse. "But she didn’t." "She kept you breathing," I said plainly, stepping closer to the edge of the bed. "And you’d better not forget that." He let out a shaky breath through his nose. "Yeah. I owe her." "No," I cut in,
ROXANNE POVDamien stepped in without a word. Adam followed, his expression unreadable and the ginger-haired guy with glasses trailed behind them. All three of them wore dark suits, like they’d stepped out of a noir film and straight into my apartment."Are you okay? And where is he?" Damien asked, eyes sweeping across the foyer until they landed on mine.I nodded toward the hallway. "My bedroom." They didn’t waste time. As they moved past me, I shut the door behind them, then made my way to the kitchen.I lingered in the kitchen, dipping the mop back into the bucket and squeezing it out before going back to scrubbing the dark stains near the sink. The scent of bleach was thick in the air, stinging my nose. My fingers had started to prune from handling too much water, but I didn’t care.I needed something to focus on—anything but the way my hands still trembled slightly.Footsteps returned a few minutes later."Who did this to him?" Damien’s voice cut through the silence, low and t
ROXANNE POV The sound of knocking echoed through my apartment like a jackhammer, dragging me out of sleep with a groan. I cracked my eyes open, blindly reaching for my phone. 7:03 AM.Who the hell was knocking this early on a Sunday?Half-asleep and annoyed, I shuffled to the door, muttering, "I’m coming, geez," under my breath. I didn’t even bother looking through the peephole—figured it was probably the landlord or, worse, his arrogant son.But when I cracked the door open, the man standing there wasn’t either of them.He looked like hell—restless eyes, unsteady breathing. There was something vaguely familiar about him, though I couldn’t place it right away."I need to use your phone." He said—demanded really—and before I could blink, he pushed past me and stumbled into my apartment."Hey!" I gasped, instinctively reaching out and grabbing his jacket. That’s when I saw it. Blood. A lot of it. Staining the front of his shirt and smearing across his side."What the hell—?" I starte
ROXANNE POV I didn’t have plans for the weekend. Not real ones anyway. Just the usual: sleep in a little too long, clean up the mess of my small apartment, maybe stare at the ceiling until the thought of Kendrick or Garry made my skin crawl. So when Samuel texted me around midday asking if I wanted to get out of bed for a bit, I stared at the message for longer than I needed to. “You need it.” I told myself. Just say yes. I owed him a thank-you anyway—for the late-night drives, the way he subtly covered my back at work when I was two seconds from snapping at some grabby creep. So, I said yes. Two hours later, I found myself walking beside him through a crowd. Street musicians filled the air with mellow tunes, a light breeze danced through my curls and for once, my shoulders weren’t weighed down by paranoia or stress. Just…ease. "You good?" Samuel asked, glancing over with a half-smile. "Yeah. This isn’t what I expected when you said you had something in mind." I said
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POV As soon as the door clicked shut, Thomas took a seat on the leather couch, balancing his laptop on the low table in front of him. I reached for my glass of whiskey and took a slow sip. "So," I said, voice low, "what do you have for me?" Thomas adjusted his glasses like he always did when he was about to drop something I wouldn’t like. "The Goons." I raised an eyebrow. The name rang a bell, but it was buried in a stack of things I hadn’t bothered to care about. "That’s familiar." I said, crossing my arms. "You heard about them," Thomas said, tapping a few keys, "a couple years back. Street gang from the other side of the city. Got known for home invasions and torching businesses that didn’t pay up. Real reckless crew. Short-tempered. Real messy." I let the info settle, nodding as I stood up from the desk, glass still in hand. "Right," I muttered. "I remember hearing something. Thought they were more bark than bite." "And they went dark a year ago," Th
ROXANNE POV I had just slipped through the back entrance, shrugging on the club’s sleeveless uniform jacket over my skimpy top, when I caught the low murmur of voices drifting from near the side hallway behind the bar.Two waitresses stood in the narrow strip between the storage room and the walk-in fridge—half hidden from view, puffing on cigarettes like it was a lifeline.I recognized one of them as Gia. The other, older, I didn’t know by name yet, but I’d seen her flash smiles that earned her hundred-dollar tips with no effort."Girl," Gia said, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling, "I swear, I’m one tray drop away from losing it tonight."The older one laughed, lighting her own cigarette with a flick of her chipped black lighter. "Don’t let the boss catch you slacking," She said, teasing. "He’s got that look tonight."Gia rolled her eyes. "Please. As long as we keep the men drinking and spending stupid, he doesn’t give a damn.""You’re not wrong," The older one smirked. "And if he d
ROXANNE POV Samuel, the bartender who helped me the other night, tried to lift my spirits after my first shift by offering me a ride home.As we drove toward my apartment, I groaned, staring at him in frustration. "What was I doing wrong?"He chuckled softly, keeping his eyes on the road. "You didn't do anything wrong. You just need to be more patient."I sighed, feeling deflated. "The other waitresses seem to get tips so easily, especially from those drunk, desperate guys.""They're natural flirts." He explained, shrugging. "It makes it easier for them. But that doesn't mean you're bad at it."I huffed. "So, basically, I'm a terrible flirt."He glanced at me and chuckled. "You're beautiful, Roxanne." "Makes me curious to see how you'd look with a bit of makeup." His teasing tone softened my mood and I found myself chuckling too."So, to be blunt..." He added, turning his attention back to the road."You're probably the most natural flirt there. You just don't realize it yet." His w