The note was thin, nearly translucent from the rain that must've soaked through the door's edges. Aurora's fingers trembled as she held it, reading the words over and over again:
"You were never his."
No name. No signature. Just five words, written in smudged, hurried strokes. The handwriting was sharp. Masculine. And it sent a cold shiver down her spine.
She glanced toward the door. Locked.
Then to Rafael, asleep beside her.
He looked peaceful in the dark, chest rising and falling steadily, bare skin warm under the sheets. One arm was stretched over where she had just been lying. Possessive, even in sleep.
She folded the note and slipped it into the nightstand drawer, heart pounding.
Had someone been inside?
Was this a warning? A threat?
Or worse… a truth?
—
Morning came harsh and bright. Rafael's mood was stormy the moment he opened his eyes. As if he sensed something had changed.
"You didn't sleep," he muttered, tracing her shoulder with his thumb.
"I had a lot on my mind."
He propped himself on one elbow, staring down at her. "About what?"
She hesitated.
"About… how easily you took control of my life."
That made him grin. "You like it."
"I don't know what I like anymore."
He leaned down and kissed her neck, soft and slow. "Then let me remind you."
Before she could protest, his lips were already sliding lower. He dragged the sheets away, exposing her bare skin to the morning light.
"I should punish you for leaving," he whispered.
Her breath caught. "You already did."
"That was just rage," he said, lifting one of her thighs over his shoulder. "This… this is control."
His mouth was hot against her inner thigh. He kissed up her leg, slow and deliberate, until he reached her heat. Then he paused.
Made her wait.
She tried to lift her hips, but he pinned them down with firm hands and smirked.
"You're always in such a hurry."
"Rafael…"
He finally leaned in, tongue sliding through her folds like a goddamn weapon. She gasped, back arching, hands fisting the sheets.
"Keep your legs open," he ordered, licking deep. "I want to hear you beg."
She tried to resist, but he didn't let up. He circled her clit slowly, relentlessly, driving her to the edge and pulling her back. Over. And over. And over.
"You like when I take my time, don't you?" he murmured against her, lips slick.
She whimpered. "Yes…"
"Say it."
"I love it."
"Say you're mine."
"I'm yours, Rafael."
That's when he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Her orgasm hit hard, sudden and shaking, like a string pulled too tight. She cried out, legs trembling around his shoulders.
But he didn't stop.
He flipped her over, pushing her onto her hands and knees, and knelt behind her.
"Now I remind you who you belong to."
He thrust into her in one deep stroke, groaning low in his throat. She was still sensitive, still shaking, but the stretch was intoxicating. His hands gripped her hips, dragging her back onto him, the rhythm brutal and perfect.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room.
She moaned his name over and over, until it wasn't a word anymore — just surrender.
He bent forward, lips brushing her ear as he fucked her harder.
"Even if you leave, I'll find you. Even if you lie, I'll know. Even if you die… I'll drag you back."
She came again with a scream, and only then did he follow, burying himself deep inside her with a growl that made her blood turn molten.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, panting, sweating.
"I'll have your things moved into this room permanently," he said casually, as if that had just been a regular conversation.
She didn't argue.
She was too dazed to think clearly.
But her hand drifted to the nightstand.
And she remembered the note.
You were never his.
—
Later that evening, while Rafael handled business downstairs, Aurora wandered the hallways. The house was too quiet — eerily so — and the guards barely acknowledged her.
Her instincts screamed that something was wrong.
She returned to the bedroom and opened the drawer.
The note was gone.
In its place…
A second one.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded it.
"You're not the only one he bought."
Her blood went cold.
Then the bedroom door creaked behind her.
She turned slowly.
And came face to face with a woman.
Tall. Elegant. Dripping with diamonds.
She looked exactly like Aurora… only older.
And she was holding a knife.