Epilogue
RAFE
Two Weeks Later
I walk through the hall of our office, alone.
Usually, Seraphina is by my side, but since I had an appointment, a video chat at my home office earlier this morning, she came in without me.
True to my word, I found a head doctor, not the best analogy to use for a psychiatrist along with a therapist, but it’s the best that I can do for now.
So far, the combination of medicine and writing and verbalizing feelings, something I’ve never done before, seems to be helping.
I’m still on the fence about all of it, yet I’ll keep pushing through to see if I make some kind of progress.
So far, since the first nightmare, there’s only been one more, and Sera was right there when the cloying sense of doom nearly took over.
Now, all I want is to loosen my tie, slide into the leather chair in my office, pour two fingers of whisky, stare out at the cityscape, and have Seraphina sitting in my lap while doing so.
As I approach the boardroom, a sound drifts through the air—a bright, melodic laugh that instantly cuts through the static of my brain.
I pause, shifting closer to the door. Seraphina is leaning against the edge of the mahogany table, ankles crossed and holding a pen between her fingers like a conductor leading a concert.
Clustered around her are Jett, Alex, and Cory, the three of them undoubtedly talking shit.
“I’m telling you, if we go to that new spot downtown, I’m establishing a strict no-work rule,” Cory says, her voice carrying enough with the door open. “The moment someone mentions the words boss, spreadsheet, voicemail, or email, they buy the next round of shots.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Alex chimes in, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “But only if Jett promises not to spend the whole time texting whomever she is right now.”
“Hey! Seraphina practically lives with her boss, and you all aren’t calling her out,” Jett protests.
“That I do,” Seraphina says with a dreamy sigh.
“A night out is exactly what we all need. Loud music, dark lighting, a completely obscene amount of carbs, and the other girls that couldn’t make it today,” I smile at her response.
There’s nothing that I love more than seeing her like this, relaxed and surrounded by people who genuinely care about her.
The vibrant color of her silk blouse makes her skin look warm under the harsh fluorescent lights of the office, a fact that she’s made me more than aware of that’s a soul sucker and eyeball killer.
It’s on my never-ending to-do list to be fixed this week.
Her dark hair tumbles over her shoulders and her black skirt pulls tight with every move she makes.
It’s a distraction, one I always welcome.
Seraphina must sense the sudden weight of my attention, because her head tilts over her shoulder, eyes flicking toward me, and our gazes catch instantly.
The laughter on her lips doesn’t fade, but it definitely shifts, morphing into something entirely different.
The easy, friendly banter vanishes and is replaced with a slow, wicked curve of her lips.
Her eyes darken, tracking the subtle movement of my throat as I swallow, then dragging down the length of my body with deliberateness, taking in my loosened exterior before snapping back up to lock onto my eyes.
She assessed me, seeing where I am mentally and emotionally.
Only then does she give me the look, the look of promised chaos, one that tells me I’ll be in for it later.
My chest tightens, and a low thrum of heat heads straight for my cock.
I raise an eyebrow in a silent challenge, then shake my head slightly, telling her to behave before I move again, continuing down the hall.
I make it to my office and shut the heavy door behind me. I bypass the bar, reluctantly, and only because it’s nowhere near noon yet. I sink into the plush leather chair, let out a long ragged exhale, and lean back to stare at the ceiling.
I’ve not been sitting for three seconds before my peace is interrupted by the phone ringing. I glance down at the caller ID and see it’s Dom.
“Tell me someone is dead or the building is on fire. Otherwise, I’m hanging up,” I answer the phone with a grumble.
“Worse,” Dom’s voice crackles through the line, sounding as strained as I feel.
The background noise suggests he’s pacing a floor somewhere other than his office upstairs.
“I’m currently hiding in a coat closet at a charity event.
I’ve listened to one seventy-year-old board member after the other asking me if I’m old enough to handle the new tech infrastructure rollout.
I’m going to commit a felony. And I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously enough with silver bracelets and anklets. ”
“The joys of being the youngest guy in the room with all the power. I take it they’re still treating you like you’re a wet-behind-the-ears schoolboy.” I chuckle at his problem, leaning back further in my chair and lacing my fingers on my chest.
“More or less. Similar to that of a toddler who found a loaded gun.” Dom grumbles, “I’ve laid the groundwork three times.
My projections are airtight, but because I don’t have gray hair or a divorce settlement under my belt, they look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.
What in the actual fuck does a man have to do to be taken seriously? Blow him?”
“Or buy out their shares, fire three of them in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon,” I reply dryly.
“So very helpful, thank you. I’m not parting with forty million dollars.” Dom likes his money where he can see it, right in his portfolio investments. I get it, but sometimes you have to gamble to win big.
“They’re old school. They value stability, tradition, and the illusion of predictability.
You’re a wild card in their eyes, the bachelor with nothing tying him down.
” I pause when an idea comes to mind, amusement hitting me after witnessing the women in the conference room.
“Honestly, if you want to prove to the board members within your business that you’re mature, that stable pillar of society, why don’t you get married? ”
“Get married? Rafe, I don’t even have time to buy groceries. Who am I supposed to marry?” Dom lets out a loud, dramatic groan while he continues pacing back and forth.
"You could always order one.” I glance up. Seraphina slips through the door, a woman on a mission, and then, without breaking eye contact, she keeps her left hand behind her back, closing the door. My breathing hitches, and my posture goes from relaxed to strung tight in the span of a heartbeat.
“The fuck I can. Any marriage is out. Give me a realistic strategy.” Dom’s voice buzzes in my ear. When I don’t respond, he prods on, “Rafe, are you still there?”
Seraphina doesn’t stay a word as she kicks off her heels, bare feet silent on the thick rug as she walks toward the desk with a slow grace that makes my pulse spike. She licks her lips, eyes going dark, heavy lidded, and locked entirely on mine.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I manage to say, my voice dropping an octave. Sera reaches the edge of the desk. “Just thinking.”
“Well, think faster. I can’t hide much longer.
I’m eventually going to have to go back there and pretend to care about golf.
” Seraphina doesn’t stop. She smoothly drops to her knees, her silk blouse billowing as she sinks down, and crawls between my legs, disappearing from sight in case someone happened to walk in.
“Yeah, well, not sure I can be of much use in the advice department.” My hands grip the armrest, my shoulder holding up the phone, as I hold back a grown.
Beneath the desk, Sera’s hands find my knees, warm palms slowly sliding up my thighs.
The sensation makes my cock harder than ever.
She reaches for the fly of my pants, deft fingers unbuckle my belt with a soft metallic clink.
“Rafe, you alright?” Dom asks, noticing the silence.
“I’m fine,” I choke out, my voice straining as she slides the zipper down. “Look, Dom, the board want to see consistency. You need to… fuck… you need to show them you’re in control.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” He finally finds his pair of balls between his legs.
Seraphina’s warm hand slips inside my boxers, freeing my cock with a single smooth motion.
Her fingers wrap around my length, her thumb tracing the mushroom tip, and when she leans forward, warm breath brushing against my sensitive skin, I know it’s lights out.
“Gotta go.” I hang up the phone right as she leans up, pressing a soft, teasing kiss on the tip.
My eyes screw shut, a low, rough breath escapes through my nose, and I slam a hand on the flat surface of the desk.
It’s either that or take over. Sera wants this, and I know she wants to be the one to do all the work.
“Sera,” I grunt, forcing my eyes open, looking down at her as she looks up at me through dark minky lashes. Her eyes are bright with a wickedness to them. She knows exactly what she’s doing, has me on the edge of begging for mercy.
“Sit back, relax.” She doesn’t wait any longer.
She opens her mouth and takes all of me inside her warm, wet heat, all the way to the back of her throat.
My head snaps back against the headrest, a violent shudder rips through my body.
The sensation is overwhelming—a sudden wave of intense pleasure, threatening to shatter my control.
On the glide up, she swirls her tongue around me with the perfect suction, then repeats the process.