Chapter 5
Rafe
T he car rolls to a stop in front of the sprawling Russo family estate. As the engine cuts off, the silence threatens to swallow us whole. I glance at Alina, taking in her fierce determination and defiance etched across her beautiful face.
“Come,” I command softly, my hand finding the small of her back as we step out into the cool night air. The subtle assertion of control sends a shiver down her spine, though she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she stands tall, her hazel eyes fixed on the mansion before us.
Nearing the grand hall, I can’t help but admire the vision that is Alina Moretti.
The dress I chose for her clings to every curve, the silky fabric accentuating her slender yet shapely figure.
The plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination, teasing the swell of her breasts, while the high slit showcases her long, toned legs.
She’s a masterpiece, a siren draped in burgundy. The collar around her neck glints against her skin, a reminder of her captivity and a symbol of my possession.
My cock throbs with need as I take her in, pride and possessiveness warring within me. I’ve orchestrated this moment, Alina’s presence here at the heart of my world, and now that it’s finally come to fruition, I’m intoxicated by her beauty and resilience.
Unable to resist any longer, I pull her close and claim her lips in a passionate, hard kiss. She responds with a fire that matches my own, her body pressed against mine, as if daring me to lose control.
“Remember your place, Alina,” I whisper against her lips, my voice low and commanding. My gray eyes bore into hers, searching for any hint of submission or wavering resolve. She meets my gaze head-on, her jaw set in silent defiance.
“Trust me, Rafe,” she replies in a voice laced with steel, “I know exactly where I stand.”
The grand hall of the Russo family estate is a stage for power and dominance, the dark walls adorned with generations of accomplishments and secrets. My grip on Alina’s back tightens, a reminder to maintain control as we enter the heart of my world.
Members of the Russo family gather around, their gazes sharp and calculating, taking in the defiant beauty beside me.
Remus, the Don, commands attention from his position at the head of the room, his dark eyes never leaving mine.
I offer him a respectful nod, acknowledging the hierarchy, the invisible strings that bind us together.
“Family,” I begin, my voice steady and strong, “This is Alina Moretti. She is here as collateral for her father’s debt.” The words hang heavy in the air, each syllable dripping with gravity.
Alina stands tall beside me, her chin raised and eyes challenging anyone who dares to question her presence. Her defiance only makes her more enticing, like a flame beckoning a moth to its doom.
“Her father owes us a significant sum,” I continue, addressing the unspoken questions hovering in the air. “Since neither Moretti can pay, I’ve taken Alina as mine.”
“For one week only,” she hisses, clearly infuriated I left that detail out.
“It’s for however long I say,” I growl, silencing her with one look. She falls silent, but her eyes speak volumes—they smolder with anger and refuse to break away from mine. The tension between us is palpable; each interaction a battle of wills.
Remus clears his throat, capturing the attention of the room once more. His gaze lingers on Alina before returning to me, unspoken mirth dances in his eyes. “Very well, Rafe,” he says, his voice cool and measured. “We will honor the agreement.”
“Thank you, Remus,” I reply, my eyes never leaving his. In this world of shadows, loyalty and submission are paramount—but so is the relentless pursuit of one’s desires.
“I need to speak with you,” Remus states. His eyes drift to Alina. “Alone.”
Alina shifts beside me, her hazel eyes flickering between Remus and Enzo. I can feel her unease, the tension winding tighter within her slender frame. She’s like a caged animal, wary of the predators that surround her.
“Stay here,” I whisper to her, pressing my hand against the small of her back. “I won’t be long.” The last part is potentially a lie. I have no idea how long it’ll take, or what Remus wants.
Her gaze lingers on mine for a moment, searching for something she won’t find. Reluctantly, she nods, and I follow Remus into a nearby study, leaving her in the company of Enzo.
“Close the door,” Remus orders, and I comply, sealing us off from the world outside. He takes a seat at his desk while I remain standing, assuming the position of an obedient soldier awaiting orders.
“Tell me, Rafe,” he begins, his demeanor relaxed yet calculating. “How did it come to this? Alina Moretti, collateral for her father’s debt?”
“Strategic planning,” I confess without hesitation, my voice steady and composed. “I orchestrated the loan to Alina’s father, knowing he wouldn’t be able to repay it. She was always meant to be the repayment.”
“Forever, not just for a week?” Remus raises an eyebrow, his dark eyes drilling into me.
“Forever,” I confirm. What I don’t say is that I want her to want me back. I need her to crave my touch, my presence as much as I crave hers.
“Hmm,” Remus says, tapping his finger against the desk. “And what about the money we’ve lost?”
I grin. “ We didn’t lose anything. I paid her dad for her out of my own money.”
This makes Remus bark out a loud laugh. “Christ,” he murmurs. When he’s done laughing, he kicks out the chair opposite him, indicating for me to sit down. While I do just that, he pours whiskey into two glasses, offering me one. “To the best laid plan.”
Flashing him a smile, I empty the glass, letting the whiskey burn down my throat. “If you have a problem with it, you only have yourself to blame,” I grin. “Aren’t you the one who manipulated our cousin Lucia in similar ways?”
Remus chuckles. “Manipulate is such an ugly word. I merely set the stage, she’s the one who insisted on playing the lead role.”
Before I know it, I’m sitting down and we talk about our family, especially those who aren’t part of it anymore. Most through death. In fact, all but one due to death. Lucia is the only one to gain her freedom completely.
“I should visit her,” I say. “She’s in Minneapolis with her husband Sawyer, right?”
“She is,” Remus confirms. “But she doesn’t want to see any of us, and I gave my word. She’s free.”
I already knew this, but there’s no shame in trying. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again, but it’s not like I blame her for choosing a path away from the family.
“Tell me something,” Remus says when we’re done reminiscing about family. “Does she even know how long you’ve waited to claim her?”
I shrug. “I don’t think she remembers me.”
While Alina’s mom was alive, the bakery was thriving and we often went there for baked goods. Back then, Alina was a lot less troubled, and she actually had a social life. Her boyfriend at the time liked getting handsy, something she wasn’t up for in public.
One night while they were in one of our clubs, I kicked his ass to the curb for making her cry. And I don’t regret it one bit. That was three years ago, when she’d just turned twenty-one.
That night my obsession was born, and every day since, it’s been watered whenever I’m in her presence. So when her dad needed money, I grabbed the opportunity. Not that he cared who he signed his daughter’s life away to. Since his wife died, he never cared much about anything.
Itching to get back to the woman who dominates my every thought, I say goodbye to Remus and return to where I left Alina.
Stepping back into the grand hall, I find Alina still standing where I left her—a testament to her quiet defiance. Enzo smirks, tauntingly remarking, “She’s been a good girl.”
My growl is instinctive, a menacing warning that Alina is off-limits, even to my closest friend. Enzo’s eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing, stepping aside as I guide Alina toward the exit.
Her silence is heavy, filled with questions and uncertainties. Yet she doesn’t ask them, her pride refusing to give me the satisfaction. Instead, she stands tall, her back straight and her chin lifted—a warrior ready for battle.
“We’re going out to eat,” I tell her, my fingers brushing against her lower back as I lead her to the car. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a hunger that I struggle to control.
“Where?” she finally asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“Does it matter?” I counter, unable to resist the urge to test her limits. Her jaw tightens, but she remains silent, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and curiosity. It’s a dangerous combination, one that could either save her or destroy us both.
The drive to the restaurant is tense and silent, each passing moment adding another layer of unspoken desires and fears. When we finally arrive, the atmosphere is charged, the air between us thick with anticipation.
I can’t help but watch as she exits the car, her hips swaying seductively with each step. The sight sends a rush of heat through me, my body reacting to her presence like a moth drawn to a flame.
The hushed atmosphere of the luxurious Russo-owned restaurant envelops us as we slide into a private booth, hidden from prying eyes.
The dim lighting casts shadows that dance across Alina’s face, highlighting her alluring features and turning her hazel eyes into a mesmerizing abyss.
I watch her, my fingers itching to trace the curve of her jaw, but I resist—for now.
I lean closer so that our lips are just inches apart. “If I told you to suck my cock under this table, would you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious about her answer.
Her eyes flicker with defiance, and she raises her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “For this week only, Rafe, I’ll do anything you command,” she says, her voice low and steady. “So, is that an order?”
I can’t help but smirk at her determination. My fingers reach up to toy with the collar around her neck, a symbol of both her submission and my undeniable claim on her. As I brush my lips against her jaw, I find myself intoxicated by her scent—warm and sweet, like freshly baked bread.
“Perhaps not tonight,” I concede, though my body throbs with desire.
Sitting back, I let the silence stretch between us, allowing the tension to build as we lock eyes, neither one willing to look away.
She may be mine for the week, but there’s no doubt in my mind that this game we’re playing is far from over.
And as the night unfolds, I find myself anticipating each move with a hunger that borders on obsession.
As the waiter comes over to us, I say, “I’ll order for us.” As much as she’d like to assert control in this situation, I know what’s best for her.
She raises a questioning eyebrow. “Umm, there are things I can’t?—”
“I know all about your allergies,” I say, interrupting her. “We’ll have the filet mignon and a bottle of white wine.”
“Very well,” the waiter replies, disappearing with our orders.
“White wine?” Alina questions, her eyebrows raised. “I thought red would be better with steak.”
“Normally, yes,” I respond, a knowing smirk playing on my lips. “But I’m aware that you haven’t touched red wine since your mom passed away from cancer.” The brief flicker of surprise in her eyes tells me that she’s both impressed and unnerved by my knowledge of her personal life.
When the food arrives, I gesture for Alina to sit on my lap. She hesitates for a moment, but ultimately complies, the heat of her body igniting a fire within me. With each bite I feed her, our fingers brush against one another, the touch electric and intoxicating.
“Rafe,” she murmurs, her voice soft and breathless as she swallows another morsel of steak. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want to feed you,” I confess, my voice a low growl in her ear. Her breath hitches, and for a moment, the world falls away.
“I just didn’t realize you cared so much about me,” she deadpans.
“Call it a vested interest,” I reply cryptically while I continue to feed her, not stopping until both our plates are empty.
“Vested interest,” she scoffs. “More like a twisted obsession.”
“Perhaps,” I allow as I lean forward, kissing her shoulder. “I really don’t give a fuck what you call it.”
She wiggles in my lap. “Let me sit down on my seat,” she whispers.
“No,” I reply.
“But I want to see you when I’m talking to you,” she whines.
I move her so she’s sitting sideways. “Better?”
She huffs but doesn’t try to move again. “Tell me, Rafe,” she demands, leaning closer, her voice low and venomous as her breath fans across my cheek. “How long are you really planning on keeping me?”
“Until I have what I want,” I respond, my own voice equally quiet.
“And what is it that you want, exactly?” Her hazel eyes pierce through me.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I counter, smirking. “You.”
“For a week,” she says. “Right?”
I shrug. “For starters.”
Our conversation halts as the waiter returns to clear our plates, momentarily breaking the spell we’ve woven around ourselves. In the charged silence that follows, I can feel the pull between us growing stronger, magnetic in its intensity.
“Shall we go?” I ask, rising from the booth and offering her my hand.
“Fine,” she concedes, placing her delicate fingers in my grasp.
As we get nearer to the exit, Alina wants to use the restroom just as I spot one of my cousins near the bar.
I tell her I’ll wait there and hurry up.
Then I slap her ass as she turns to leave me.
The windows in the bathroom have bars on them, making it impossible to use them as an exit, so I don’t follow her.