The message burned in my mind long after Rafael left the room. He hadn't seen it. Thank God. His hands had still been on my skin, his voice still echoing in my ear, claiming me, marking me. If he'd noticed the phone vibrating on the desk, I wasn't sure what he would've done.
But I had seen it.
And now it wouldn't let me rest.
He'll never tell you the full truth. But I will. Meet me tomorrow at midnight. Alone.
I lay awake in Rafael's bed, staring at the ceiling as his heavy arm rested across my stomach. He slept like a man at peace, though I knew he never truly was. His enemies were everywhere. His empire was built on danger. Yet here he was, breathing evenly beside me, as if the weight of the world couldn't reach him in sleep.
I envied that.
But I couldn't stop my thoughts. Who had sent the message? And what truth could they possibly hold that Rafael was hiding from me? The hit list already proved he'd kept secrets. My own name had been there, circled in red. How much darker could the truth get?
By dawn, my mind was made up. I would meet the messenger.
Of course, Rafael noticed something was off.
"Why are you so quiet this morning?" he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee like a king surveying his castle. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his dark hair messy in the sexiest way.
I forced a shrug. "Just tired."
He narrowed his eyes. "Tired… or hiding something?"
My stomach flipped. He always seemed to see straight through me. "Not everything has to be a game of secrets, Rafael."
"With you, it does," he said simply. Then, with unnerving calm, he added, "Because you matter. And I can't afford surprises when it comes to you."
His words should've reassured me. Instead, they felt like chains tightening.
The entire day passed in a blur of tension. Rafael held meetings in his office, voices carrying through the mansion's halls. Men in suits came and went. I watched from the window as cars rolled in and out, each one carrying pieces of his bloody empire.
When night fell, I pretended to be exhausted. I curled up in his bed, feigned sleep, and waited.
At eleven-thirty, Rafael finally left the room, muttering something about unfinished business downstairs. I counted each second until the sound of his footsteps faded.
Then I slipped out of bed.
My heart raced as I dressed in silence—black jeans, a dark hoodie, sneakers. My phone was clutched in my hand, the message still there like a dangerous whisper. Midnight. Alone.
The mansion's hallways stretched endlessly, shadows lurking in every corner. I crept past guards, avoiding their eyes, avoiding the cameras where I could. My pulse thudded in my ears. If Rafael caught me, if he realized I was sneaking out…
I didn't want to imagine his wrath.
Outside, the night air was sharp and cool. I pulled the hood over my head and hurried toward the gate. Somehow, I slipped past without raising alarms. Maybe fate wanted me to know the truth.
The meeting spot was clear in the message: the same abandoned church where I'd nearly died two nights ago.
A sick twist of irony.
By the time I reached it, the clock had struck midnight. The church loomed like a corpse, its windows shattered, its roof caved in. The heavy wooden door groaned when I pushed it open.
Inside, the silence was suffocating.
"Hello?" I whispered.
A figure stepped out from the shadows.
Not tall and broad like Rafael. Not armed with the same aura of power. This man was leaner, sharper. His face was half-hidden beneath a hood, but his voice was smooth.
"You came."
My chest tightened. "Who are you?"
He chuckled. "Someone who knows Rafael Costa better than anyone else. Someone who knows what he's keeping from you."
I swallowed hard. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
The man's lips curved in a cold smile. "You've already seen the hit list. But did he tell you who ordered your name to be on it? Did he tell you why?"
My pulse spiked. "He said it was because he didn't trust me at first."
The stranger shook his head slowly. "That's the lie. Rafael didn't just write your name down out of suspicion. He was paid to end you."
The world tilted. I stumbled back a step. "That's not true."
"Oh, it is," he said softly. "Your father—dear, precious Daddy—wasn't the man you thought. He was involved with us. With our side. When he crossed Rafael, a deal was made. Your life in exchange for peace. Rafael took the contract. Your name went on the list."
My heart thundered so loudly I thought it might burst. "No… you're lying."
The man stepped closer, lowering his hood. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
"Ask him yourself, Aurora. But be careful. Men like Rafael don't confess. They destroy anyone who knows too much."
Before I could respond, a sound cut through the silence—footsteps. Heavy. Familiar.
Rafael.
The man smirked and vanished into the shadows, leaving me trembling in the middle of the ruined church.
The doors slammed behind me.
"Aurora," Rafael's voice boomed, dangerous and sharp. He stepped into the light, fury etched into every line of his face. His eyes locked on me, wild with betrayal.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Another message lit the screen.
Unknown Number: Now you know. Choose wisely.
I lifted my gaze to Rafael, his body tense like a storm about to break.
And I realized—
The truth might not just destroy him. It might destroy me too.