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Chapter 15 A Devil's Jealously
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2025-04-03 12:51:17Sophia felt the weight of the stranger’s gaze, the way he assessed her with cool amusement.
Something about him unsettled her. But more than that—it felt like a test. A test of what, she wasn’t sure. She should have left. Should have walked away. But before she could make a move, the stranger leaned forward, his voice a low purr. “You’re in over your head, sweetheart.” Sophia’s spine stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man smirked, lifting his drink to his lips. “You belong to Rafael D’Angelo,” he mused, tilting his head as if studying an interesting puzzle. “And yet… you don’t seem very convinced.” Sophia’s nails dug into her palms. She refused to take the bait. “I don’t belong to anyone.” The stranger chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, he won’t like that.” Sophia frowned. “Who—?” She didn’t get the chance to finish. Because suddenly, the air shifted. A dark, suffocating presence wrapped around her like a noose. A familiar one. Rafael. And he was furious. A Storm of Possession Sophia barely had time to react before a hand clamped around her wrist. Strong. Unyielding. Claiming. Rafael yanked her off the couch, pulling her flush against his chest. His emerald eyes blazed with fury, locked onto the man across from them. “I must be losing my touch,” Rafael murmured, voice silky with threat. “If a little rat thinks he can talk to what’s mine.” The blond man didn’t flinch. In fact, he smirked. “I was just keeping her company,” he drawled. “She seemed… lonely.” Sophia’s breath caught as Rafael’s grip tightened. The temperature in the room plummeted. “I don’t recall giving you permission,” Rafael said coldly. The stranger arched a brow. “And here I thought she had a mind of her own.” The challenge hung thick in the air. But Rafael didn’t rise to it. Instead, he smiled. Slow. Lethal. And then—he struck. A flash of movement. A sickening crunch. The blond man crumpled, clutching his bleeding nose. The club froze. Sophia gasped, eyes wide, heart hammering. But Rafael wasn’t done. He crouched beside the man, his voice dangerously soft. “The next time you look at her,” he said, calmly wiping the blood off his knuckles, “I’ll carve out your fucking eyes.” The man groaned, coughing as Rafael straightened. And then—he turned on Sophia. Punishment in the Dark She barely had time to breathe before Rafael dragged her away, his grip unrelenting. The club blurred past them. She didn’t know where he was taking her—only that there was fire in his veins. And she was about to burn. The moment they reached a private lounge, Rafael shoved her against the door, his body caging her in. His breath was ragged. His eyes? Wild. Possessive. Infuriated. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled. Sophia swallowed hard, willing her voice to be steady. “I wasn’t—” “No,” Rafael snarled, gripping her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You weren’t.” His thumb brushed her lower lip. Hard. Rough. Then, without warning—he kissed her. Fierce. Punishing. Unrelenting. Sophia whimpered against his lips, her body betraying her, melting into the storm that was Rafael D’Angelo. But just as suddenly as he started—he pulled away. His grip on her chin tightened, his voice dark and low. “You don’t get to entertain other men,” he said. “You. Are. Mine.” Sophia trembled. And in that moment, she knew— Rafael wasn’t going to let her forget it.
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The dim light of the room cast shadows on Rafael’s sharp features, making him look even more predatory—like a wolf that had finally cornered his prey. Sophia’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought for control, but the fire in her veins betrayed her. His hands were heavy on her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin with a possessive force that sent a dangerous thrill through her. He was everywhere. His scent. His heat. His dominance. And she—she was drowning in him. A War She Can’t Win Rafael’s emerald eyes locked onto hers, his pupils dilated with a hunger that sent a shiver racing through her. His thumb traced the outline of her lips, slow and deliberate, watching as she trembled beneath his touch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark promise. Sophia’s throat tightened. “I don’t belong to you,” she whispered, trying to sound defiant, but her voice wavered. His smirk was lethal. “Oh, piccola,
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The heat from Rafael’s body still lingered on Sophia’s skin long after he stepped away. Her mind was a battlefield of contradictions—rage, shame, and something far more dangerous—desire. She wanted to scream at him, to slap that arrogant smirk off his face. But her lips were still swollen from his kiss, her breath still uneven, her body still betraying her. And Rafael knew it. His emerald eyes glinted with dark satisfaction as he leaned lazily against the desk, watching her with the patience of a predator that had all the time in the world. “You can keep running, piccola,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “But I always catch what’s mine.” Sophia’s nails dug into her palms. “I’m not yours,” she snapped, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. Rafael chuckled, a deep, sinful sound that sent a shiver straight through her core. “Then why,” he mused, stepping closer, “are you still here?” Sophia’s breath caught as he lifted a hand to brush a strand of hai
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Sophia’s footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hallway as she fled Rafael’s office, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her body still burned from his touch, her mind trapped in the aftermath of his dominance. She needed air. She needed distance. She needed to forget the way his lips had felt against her skin, the way his presence had drowned out all logic. But as she stepped into the cool night air, the weight of Rafael’s words clung to her like a brand. "I could ruin you, and you’d love every second of it." Sophia shivered, but not from the chill. Because deep down, she feared he was right. A Battle of Wills She stalked toward the parking lot, her heels clicking against the pavement. This was a mistake. Coming here, confronting him, thinking she had any control in this game. Rafael DeLuca was a man who played with power like it was an extension of himself. He dictated the rules, set the traps, and waited for his prey to step right into them. And she had walked in will
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Sophia’s back pressed against the cold metal of her car, her breath shallow as Rafael’s lips trailed a searing path down her neck. The night air was cool, but she felt feverish—her skin hypersensitive, her body betraying every ounce of logic screaming in her mind. This wasn’t just a kiss. This was Rafael staking his claim. And the worst part? She wanted him to. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her even closer, his body an unyielding wall of heat and muscle against hers. "Tell me to stop," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough, edged with restraint. Sophia swallowed hard. She should. She should push him away, get in her car, drive far from this madness. But when she opened her mouth, the only words that escaped were, "Don’t stop." A low growl rumbled from Rafael’s chest. And then— He devoured her. His lips crushed hers in a kiss that was pure fire—ruthless, demanding, consuming. Sophia gasped against his mouth, her hands fisting his shirt as he deepened the
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