19. No One ElseRafael
Nineteen
No One Else
Rafael
M y knuckles ache against the wheel, the leather groaning under the pressure. Anatoly’s smug voice claws at my brain. Those fucking pictures. Her sitting with him. Her lips curved in a smile meant for me. My fist slams against the steering wheel again.
“You thought she’d stay celibate?” Anatoly had said, that fucking smirk on his face.
Yes. I did. I thought the damage I left behind would seal her off from men. She was supposed to belong to me, whether she knew it or not. Whether she hated me or not. Mine.
The cafe is up ahead—some hipster shithole that reeks of mediocrity. She has no business in a place like this. She’s meant for beach dates in Greece, wine by the Eiffel tower, and dinners where the plates cost more than this entire block. But no, she’s here. With him .
I park and step inside, the door slamming shut behind me. My eyes find her instantly. She’s sitting there, her hand resting on the table, and that bastard’s fingers skim over her skin like he has any right.
My chest tightens. My fists curl. My pulse pounds like a war drum. She is letting him touch her.
The chair screeches against the floor as I drag it up beside them. She sighs, her head falling into her hands, already exasperated. Good. She should be.
“Thank you again, Elliot. I’ll contact you later on to sort out the details.” Her voice is rushed, and she’s already rummaging in her bag for money like she can escape this.
My gaze locks on them, boring into the man she’s with— Elliot . What a pathetic excuse for a name. He’s not worth acknowledging, but I let the silence hang, heavy and oppressive. He looks between us, confused, but otherwise doesn’t ask.
He gives her a soft smile. Weak. Spineless. “No, it’s on me, please.”
Hell no. Over my dead body.
Before she can respond, I slap a crisp hundred-dollar bill onto the table. “I’ve got it.”
I stand, grip her waist, and hoist her over my shoulder. She yelps, hands immediately pounding against my back. Everyone is watching, and I couldn’t care fucking less.
“I’ll call you later!” she shouts over my shoulder, desperation laced in her tone. I fucking hate it.
“You won’t,” I mutter under my breath.
Her fists continue their assault on my back as I stride out of the cafe, but I barely feel them. I’ve decided—Elliot is no longer a problem. He’s nothing but a name I’ll erase from her lips.
I shove the car door open and set her down in the passenger seat, but she immediately starts squirming, her fists pushing against my chest as she tries to free herself.
“Sit still,” I growl, but she doesn’t.
“Fuck this,” I mutter under my breath. Grabbing the seatbelt, I loop it tightly around her wrists, securing her hands in place against her lap.
“Are you serious?” she snaps, struggling against the restraint.
“Very.”
She groans in frustration, thrashing as I shut the door, round the car, and climb into the driver’s seat. The engine roars to life, and I speed off.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screams.
“I’m just fine,” I mumble, eyes fixed on the road.
“No,” she spits, shaking her head wildly, “you’re fucked in the head.”
I don’t respond. I already know.
“Okay, we get it,” she continues, her voice rising. “I’m in love with you, you’re not. I’ve gotten over it. So just… move on already. Like a normal person.”
“There’s no getting over me, Kroshka ,” I growl. The very thought feels like a noose tightening around my neck.
“Go to hell.”
But I’m already in it, Kroshka , and so are you.
“Not in love with you?” I repeat her words, turning to face her. “You don’t get it, do you? I loved you in a way that destroyed me. And you—” I jab a finger toward her. “You took that and burned it all down. Literally. You’re your father’s daughter, through and through.”
Her face pales. I want to take the words back, but I can’t.
I hear her voice crack, her frustration spilling out. “Yes, okay, I get it. I’m a horrible person. I have blood on my hands. I ruined you. I took away everything you hold dear.” She pauses, her breath shaky. “It doesn’t matter that I was nine—I did it. And I’m so fucking sorry.”
Her hands ball into fists in her lap. “But what more do you want from me? From us? You’re going to marry my sister. I’m going to spend the rest of my life watching another woman in the place I wanted so desperately. My sister , nonetheless.” Her laugh is hollow, humorless.
“You destroyed my father, Rafael. We’re going to be broke in a few months. You got everything you wanted. You got us back.” Her eyes flash with a mix of anger and defeat as they meet mine. “What more do you fucking want? Please, just leave me alone. Let me figure out how to live through this nightmare you created. ”
“Is this Elliot part of the new life you’re so desperate for?” I bark.
“Yes. Yes, he is. And it’s none of your damn business.”
I see red. My grip on the wheel tightens, my knuckles whitening as I swerve sharply. The engine growls as I push the car faster. “What do you want with that fucker? Whatever it is, I can give it to you ten times better.” My voice is low, a hiss of barely contained fury. I feel murderous, my thoughts spiraling into darkness.
“I don’t want anything from you, Rafael,” she snaps, her head turning toward the window like she can block me out. “This is for me. You’re not taking it away.”
“Already so attached to him, are we?” I press harder on the gas, the speedometer creeping up as images burn in my mind—her with him, her kissing him, her laughing at his stupid fucking jokes, her loving him, her fucking him . Hell no. Not in this lifetime. And not in any other.
“What do you want from me?” she suddenly yells. “What the hell is it you want? You want me to beg for your scraps? I’m no beggar, Rafael. He gave me an excellent offer—”
“You’re not working for him,” I roar, cutting her off, the sound of my voice ricocheting inside the car. Reaching into my pocket, I grab my wallet and pull out my card, throwing it onto her lap. “You need money? Fine. The pin is 3902. Use it, drain it, burn it, I don’t give a shit. But you’re not taking a single cent from him.”
She doesn’t reach for the card. That only makes the rage in my chest boil hotter. “Say it,” I growl. “Say you’ll leave him out of this.”
“I’m not taking your money. I’m not taking anything from you anymore!”
My jaw aches from clenching it. “Look at it from another angle,” I say quietly, like I’m explaining something simple to a child. “You value his life Kroshka? ”
Her glare could cut through steel. Her mouth falls open, her chest rising and falling like she’s struggling to breathe. “What are you planning to do?” she whispers.
I shrug, the motion lazy, even as my blood simmers. “Oh, nothing too dramatic. Maybe hang him by his intestines. Or chop his dick off and stuff it in his mouth before he bleeds out. So many options.”
“You’re one sick bastard.”
“That’s not news.”
“Don’t touch him, Rafael!”
I slam the brakes, jerking the car to a stop on the side of the road. My hands itch to spank her ass. “Don’t take a cent from him, don’t work for him, and I won’t hurt him,” I order.
“Fine! I won’t. But don’t you dare touch him,” she snaps back, her eyes wild, brimming with frustration and something else—fear. Her concern for him is maddening, clawing at something primal in me.
“Promise me, Rafael,” she demands.
I don’t answer.
“Promise me!” she screams, her restrained fists slamming against her thighs.
“If you do as I say, you have nothing to worry about.”
Her shoulders sag and she leans back into the seat. She glares at the passing cars. “Just so you know, I’m absolutely going to take revenge on you with this card,” she mutters.
I shrug, indifferent. “Buy an island for all I care.”
The thought of her depending on someone else— needing someone else— it’s a raw, aching burn, as if she’s peeling the skin off me, layer by layer. She should need me . Only me. The mere idea of her looking for refuge in someone else’s hands, it eats at me in ways I can’t even describe. I should be the one she turns to, the one she breathes for, the one she breaks for. She shouldn’t rely on anyone but me. I am the one who owns her. No one else gets that from her. Not him . Not anyone else.
I lean toward her slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin, feel her pulse quicken. My breath is warm against her neck, and I hear her inhale sharply, a soft tremble in her body that makes something inside me tighten. She tries to back away, but there’s nowhere for her to go. “What are you doing?” she asks, as if she doesn’t even recognize the man in front of her. He doesn’t recognize himself either.
My lips press against her neck in a soft kiss, brushing her now short locks off her shoulder. I bite, lick, and suck on her skin. I leave hickeys all over the column of her neck. This should show Elliot , and any other fucker that thinks she isn’t claimed.
“Stop it. Just stop. You’re getting married by the end of the week. You’re going to become my brother in law. This isn’t right, Rafael, and you know it. Please, just stop.” She begs.
That’s the problem. There is nothing more I want than to stop wanting her, needing her, craving her… But I can’t. It goes against every cell in my body. I can’t stop.