The sound of engines broke the stillness of the estate before the gates even opened.
Two black SUVs rolled into the courtyard, their headlights slicing through the dusk like blades. Guards straightened immediately, boots clicking together as they lined the path to the front doors.
When the car doors opened, silence fell.
Rafael Navarro stepped out first, tall, dressed in a black shirt and tailored slacks, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His jaw was tight, the kind of tension that came from hours of fury bottled behind restraint. Caleb followed close behind, his presence heavier than usual, dust still clinging to his boots.
The air itself seemed to shrink around them.
No one spoke. No one dared to. Even the marble floors seemed to echo too loudly under Rafael's steps. The guards bowed their heads as he passed, the maids pressing themselves to the walls, eyes lowered, breaths held.
It wasn't just respect..... it was fear.
Caleb fell in step beside him.
"Security's doubled," he murmured quietly. "Every corner's covered."
Rafael didn't respond. His gaze stayed forward, sharp and detached. "Keep it that way," he said finally, his voice deep,more dangerous than if he'd shouted.
They entered the grand hallway. Rafael paused at the foot of the staircase for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the massive chandelier above. Everything looked the same, yet he could feel the difference.
Paranoia had a way of changing even the air you breathed.
When Rafael entered his private suite, his shirt came off first. Caleb lingered by the door as Rafael set his gun on the dresser, the metallic sound echoing in the still room.
"Any news regarding Ortega?" Rafael asked quietly, unbuttoning his sleeves.
"None," Caleb replied. "He's hiding well or Cassimo's hiding him well. But Cassimo's been moving. He's preparing for something big."
Rafael's jaw flexed. He turned toward the bathroom. "Then we'll move first."
The door shut behind him, and the hiss of running water filled the silence.
Caleb waited outside for a while, leaning against the wall, watching the faint steam curl under the door.
He'd seen his stepbrother angry before but this kind of quiet was worse. It was the kind that came before something explosive.
....
By the time Rafael came downstairs again, his hair was still damp, his sleeves rolled, a faint scent of his cologne cutting through the heavy air. The dining table had already been set, polished silverware, crystal glasses, and a perfectly plated meal that no one in the room was brave enough to look at directly.
Caleb was already there, sitting opposite the head chair, a glass of whiskey untouched before him. The guards standing by the doors straightened when Rafael entered.
He sat down slowly, not out of fatigue but control. Every movement deliberate.
"Where's Isabella?" he asked after a pause, his tone casual but weighted.
One of the maids froze mid-step. "She's... in her room, señor," she said softly, eyes fixed on the floor.
Rafael cut a glance toward her. "Bring her."
The maid nodded quickly and scurried away.
Caleb watched him for a moment. "You sure you want her at the table right now?, it doesn't seem quite right."
Rafael poured himself a drink. "She lives under my roof too Caleb"
"But she's not even..."
"She's my wife remember " Rafael interrupted.
"Payment wife you mean" Caleb said.
He didn't say anything anymore. It was control ....the only language he trusted when everything else was falling apart.
A few minutes later, soft footsteps echoed from the stairs. Isabella appeared in the doorway, wearing a simple silk robe over her nightdress, her hair loosely braided. She paused briefly when she saw him at the head of the table, composed, unreadable, his gaze fixed on her.
She walked towards them eyes not meeting anyone of them.
"Sit," he said immediately she got closer to the dining table.
She obeyed, taking the chair to his right. Her fingers brushed against the edge of the napkin but didn't lift it. The silence between them was thick, the faint clink of Caleb's fork against his plate was the only sound in the room.
Rafael finally looked up when she had not started eating. "Eat" He said.
She hesitated but finally picked up her cutlery.
"How's the food?" he asked after she had taken few bites, sipping his drink, eyes never leaving her.
She didn't say anything.
"You want water?" Rafael asked brushing it aside. Yet, she didn't utter a single word.
Caleb's head lifted towards her.
"Have you lost your mind?" he asked sharply, setting down his glass. "El Diablo's talking to you...."
Rafael's hand lifted slightly, stopping him.
"It's fine," he said quietly. "It's her right to keep quiet"
Caleb frowned but fell silent.
Rafael turned back to Isabella, studying her face. Her gaze stayed fixed on the table, but her pulse flickered at the base of her neck. He noticed, the small tells, the unspoken defiance that lingered beneath her fear.
"Eat," he said finally, his tone gentler than before. "You'll need your strength."
Isabella nodded once knowing what it might mean for her later.
Across the table, Caleb watched the quiet exchange between them,the subtle shifts, the restrained tension brewing in Rafael. He knew that tone. Rafael never spoke gently to anyone unless something was stirring beneath.
The kind of stir that could change or break everything.
By the time dinner ended, the rain her started again.
Rafael dropped his glass empty, and looked toward Isabella as if wanting to say more but didn't. She had stopped eating even though she barely ate much.
"Go get some rest," he said instead, his voice low.
She shifted immediately, eyes briefly meeting his for the second time since dinner just long enough for something unspoken to pass between them. Something neither of them knew what to name it.
Then she rose and left, her steps soft against the marble. Caleb waited until she was gone before exhaling.
"She's not afraid of you anymore," he said quietly.
Rafael's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "No," he murmured. "But maybe she shouldn't be."
"What does that even mean?" Caleb frowned.
"Maybe I'd like to see someone who's not afraid of me for once"
He turned away before Caleb could reply, the faint echo of his steps striding away towards the stairs up to his master bedroom.