Chapter 25 The Chains Of Possession

Sophia could still feel the ghost of Rafael’s touch long after he had stepped away.

His words—You belong to me.

They weren’t just a statement.

They were a warning.

A declaration of ownership.

And the worst part?

A dark, twisted part of her wanted it to be true.

Wanted to be his.

But that realization terrified her.

Because Rafael DeLuca wasn’t just a man.

He was a storm, a fire, a predator.

And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape him—or burn with him.

A Dangerous Game

The next morning, Sophia woke up to the smell of coffee and something rich, something decadent.

She blinked, disoriented, before realizing she wasn’t in her own bed.

She was in Rafael’s.

The sheets were soft, silken, infused with his scent—cologne, smoke, and something unmistakably him.

Heat crept up her neck as she recalled the night before.

His touch.

His words.

The way he had stripped her of every illusion she had of being in control.

She sat up quickly, her pulse pounding.

The door to the bedroom swung open.

Rafael stood in the doorway, his commanding presence filling the space effortlessly.

He was already dressed—black slacks, a fitted dark shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing the veins along his forearms.

His eyes flickered to her, unreadable, before he held out a cup of coffee.

Sophia hesitated before accepting it, her fingers brushing against his as she took the cup.

She hated how her breath caught at even that small touch.

"You didn’t come back to bed last night," she said, surprising even herself with the statement.

Rafael arched a brow, his lips curving slightly.

"Would you have wanted me to?"

Sophia’s fingers tightened around the cup.

"You think you know everything, don’t you?"

Rafael smirked, stepping closer.

"Not everything," he murmured, lifting a hand and tracing a slow, lazy finger along her exposed collarbone. "But I do know you shivered when I touched you last night."

Her breath hitched.

He tilted his head, his eyes dark.

"I know you wanted me to keep going."

Sophia’s pulse raced.

She hated that he could read her so easily.

She needed to break his control over her—just for a moment.

So she lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on.

"Maybe I did," she said. "But that doesn’t mean you own me."

Rafael stilled.

Then—he laughed.

It wasn’t mocking.

It was dark, amused, utterly confident.

"Piccola," he murmured, his fingers drifting lower, grazing the inside of her wrist where her pulse thrummed wildly. "You can fight it all you want, but you’re already mine."

Sophia swallowed.

She opened her mouth to argue—

But before she could speak, his phone buzzed.

Something shifted in his expression, the teasing edge vanishing in an instant.

Sophia watched as he pulled out his phone, his eyes narrowing at the screen.

His entire body tensed.

"What is it?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

Rafael hesitated.

Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket, his jaw tight.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

Sophia clenched her teeth.

There it was again.

That wall he put up, keeping her on the outside.

But she was done being in the dark.

So when he turned to leave, she pushed herself out of bed and grabbed his arm.

"Rafael, wait."

His head snapped back toward her, his eyes glinting.

But she didn’t back down.

"If you want me to trust you," she said, voice firm, "then you need to trust me, too."

Silence stretched between them.

Then, finally—

Rafael sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"There was an attack last night," he admitted. "One of my men was killed."

Sophia’s stomach twisted.

"Who?"

"A message," Rafael murmured, his voice like steel. "From someone who thinks they can challenge me."

Sophia swallowed hard.

She wasn’t naïve.

She knew Rafael’s world was violent.

Dangerous.

But hearing it like this—so close, so real— sent a chill down her spine.

"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

Rafael’s eyes darkened.

"I’m going to remind them who the fuck they’re dealing with."

The Calm Before the Storm

Sophia didn’t see Rafael for the rest of the day.

And that terrified her.

Because she knew—**deep down—**that something big was coming.

That the violence was only just beginning.

That Rafael would spill blood before he let anyone take what was his.

By the time night fell, she couldn’t take it anymore.

She left the penthouse.

She needed air.

Needed space.

She found herself wandering the streets, lost in thought, when she felt it—

A presence.

A shadow moving behind her.

Sophia’s heart pounded as she turned, her breath catching.

A man stood a few feet away, watching her.

She didn’t recognize him, but there was something about him.

Something wrong.

Before she could move, he stepped forward.

"Miss Moretti," he said, his voice smooth. "You should be more careful wandering around alone."

Sophia’s blood ran cold.

She took a step back, but he matched it, his smile never faltering.

"Rafael isn’t here to protect you," he murmured.

Sophia’s hands clenched into fists.

But before she could do anything—

A gunshot rang out.

The man’s body jerked before he crumpled to the ground.

Sophia gasped, her entire body freezing—

And then strong arms wrapped around her from behind.

A familiar scent surrounded her.

Heat.

Power.

Possession.

"Stupid, reckless girl," Rafael’s voice growled against her ear.

Sophia shuddered.

He turned her around, his grip unrelenting, burning.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes filled with pure fury.

Sophia’s breath hitched.

"Rafael, I—"

"Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" His voice was low, lethal.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"You are mine, Sophia," he said, his voice deadly. "And if anything happens to you—"

His jaw clenched.

"It will be war."

Sophia’s pulse thundered.

Because for the first time—

She realized just how deep Rafael’s obsession with her truly ran.

And worse?

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape it.

Or drown in it completely.