Chapter 16 Rafe
RAFE
My phone buzzes with a notification.
Again.
I don't need to check it to know what it says. Probably another press mention or a tagged story. Or even worse another desperate influencer, begging for a collab with me.
The campaign's working. She's everywhere now. Not just on social media feeds, but in my personal space and my head, which is supposed to be unburdened by distractions.
I didn't build a life around calculated risks and absolute control, to let it all collapse under the weight of one American with bedroom eyes and a mouth that never shuts up.
She's in my blood now and I don't know how to cut her out. It's a terrifying realization, a weakness I can't afford to acknowledge, even to myself.
"Is something wrong, boss?" Enzo's voice calls out. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He watches me the way he watches dogs that might bite, unpredictable and dangerous.
"You've been pacing for fifteen minutes," he adds. "Which isn't a thing you do. You're a man who sits and waits patiently."
"She's pushing," I reply. "Too far, too fast. She's drawing too much attention. The wrong kind of attention."
He cocks a brow. "You mean in public? The way she's making you a household name, albeit a ridiculously nicknamed one. Personally, the #Rikki hashtag is growing on me. They’re shipping the two of you hard. Is that what concerns you?"
I don't confirm or deny. To do so would be to admit weakness.
"Or in private?" Enzo continues.
He knows me too well. It's one of the reasons he's indispensable. And one of the reasons he's so irritating at times.
I shoot him a look. "We don't mix those two. You know the rules. Business and… everything else. They're separate entities. Everything in its place."
"Too late, you already mixed it," he counters. He gestures vaguely with his head towards the general direction of the kitchen, towards the pool.
The recent memory of the water, of her body pressing against mine, flashes through my mind, hot and vivid.
"That was a tactical error. A moment of miscalculation. Nothing more. Nothing happened."
"Yet," he says calmly.
"She's a big fucking problem."
"No," he replies. "She's a mirror. And you're not liking the reflection you see when you look at yourself through her eyes. Or through her actions."
He's not wrong. Nikki is a huge disruption to my life. But not in the way I expected.
She’s not the one unraveling.
I am.
Every smile, every line she speaks toeing the edge of seduction is all deliberate. She's carefully aiming her best shots. And her target is my control.
"You think she's playing you?" Enzo asks.
I shake my head, a slow, grudging admission. "I think she might be winning. And I don't know how to stop her without breaking the illusion we're trying to build."
"You could end this," he offers, presenting it as a simple option. "Make her disappear. The old way. It would be… effective."
"Not without consequences."
The consequences would be monumental. Removing her now wouldn’t just burn the lie. I’d lose something I’m not ready to name.
The thought of her simply being… gone is unimaginable.
He shrugs. "It's up to you, boss. You're the one who gave her a stage. You put the spotlight on her and gave her the power."
He's right.
She’s a spark I lit myself.
And I’m the one standing in the middle of the fire.