Aaria didn't cry as she left the penthouse.
She didn't scream or slam the door.
She just walked away—down the pristine hallway, past the men in suits who didn't meet her eyes, into the elevator, and out of Rafael's world.
No one stopped her.
Not even him.
But that didn't mean he wasn't watching.
She could feel it.
Like his presence clung to her skin, invisible and heavy. The weight of him in her lungs.
The echo of his touch where her clothes brushed her body.
She hated it.
She missed it.
And that was the most dangerous part of all.
She returned to her old campus dorm. Back to tiny rooms with peeling paint, noisy neighbors, and the illusion of anonymity.
But by nightfall, her phone had already buzzed.
Unknown Number:
You look so much better without his chains.
She stared at it. Deleted it. Ignored the twist in her gut.
At 2 a.m., it came again.
He can't protect you anymore. You should've stayed where you were watched. Now we're watching. :)
Her blood ran cold.
She stood up, checked the locks twice, then pulled a chair beneath the door handle.
The irony burned:
She used to resent Rafael for watching her.
Now she wished his eyes were still on her.
By morning, her door was covered in red paint.
Just one word, written in jagged letters:
WHORE
She cleaned it.
Didn't cry.
But she called someone.
Not the police.
Not her friends.
Not her professor.
She called him.
Rafael.
The moment the phone rang, he answered.
"Where are you?"
She exhaled shakily. "They found me."
There was silence.
Then:
"Ten minutes."
He came in black again.
Always black.
Not a suit this time—but something worse. Tactical. Gloves. Shadow.
His security followed behind him, silent as wolves.
He didn't say a word when he saw her.
Just walked past her and looked around the room like he already knew how many windows there were, how weak the locks were, where the threats would enter.
Then, slowly, he turned to her.
"Are you done running?"
She nodded.
"No cameras," she whispered. "No lies. But I'll stay."
His jaw tensed.
"I'll destroy everything," he said. "The cameras. The feeds. The files. I'll dismantle the monster I built, if that's what you want."
"It's what I need."
"Then it's done."
Just like that.
No hesitation this time.
Because losing her had been the only line he couldn't cross.
Later that night, she lay in his bed again.
But this time, it wasn't about ownership.
It was about something scarier.
Belonging.
His hand brushed her cheek as she lay on his chest, both of them bruised in places no one could see.
"You scare me," she whispered.
"Good," Rafael said. "Because you terrify me too."