Chapter Five: Fire in the Veins
813 Words
###
He hadn’t meant to touch her again.
Not after the last time. Not after the slip of her tongue that had nearly given her away, not after the way she’d moaned his name like it meant something. Rafael Moretti didn’t f**k women twice. Especially not women with secrets in their eyes.
But here he was.
Back in the gallery’s private lounge, late at night, the city bleeding its neon lights against the tall windows–and her standing there like she owned the silence.
Emilia.
In black silk again. No bra. No shame. Just curves and shadows and lips that could ruin men.
“You stayed,” he said, voice low and dangerous.
She tilted her chin, that maddening smile playing at her mouth. “You asked me to.”
“I didn’t think you took orders.”
“I don’t.” She walked closer, each step deliberate. “But I’m curious. About what kind of man you are when no one’s watching.”
Rafael’s hand closed around the glass of whiskey on the table, tight enough to crack it. “That kind of curiosity could get you killed.”
“Then why aren’t I dead yet?”
He downed the whiskey in one swallow, then stalked toward her.
One heartbeat. Two.
She didn’t back away.
His hand came up–fingers threading through her hair. He pulled her closer, not kissing her. Just breathing her in. “You want to know what kind of man I am?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He dragged her backward, against the wall, pressing her there with his body. “Then let me show you.”
And he did.
###
She didn’t remember when the ropes came out. Only that they were soft, black silk–just like the one tied at her throat now, like a choker. Rafael had pulled it out from some drawer hidden behind a modern painting. It hadn’t surprised her. Nothing about him did anymore.
His hands moved like he knew exactly where she’d burn the longest. Her wrists were already bound–tied in front of her as he made her kneel at the foot of the leather sofa.
The room smelled like him. Expensive and cruel.
And God, she shouldn’t want him. Not with what she was planning.
But the way he looked at her–like a loaded gun, like a storm about to break–it made her forget everything.
“You want control, baby?” he asked, thumb brushing the corner of her lip. “Or you want to remember who owns this mouth?”
She opened her mouth.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t need to.
He unzipped slowly–watching her the whole time like he was the one on his knees.
And when she took him in, bound hands curling around his thighs, he groaned low, dark, primal.
“f**k, Emilia.”
The sound of her name in his voice made something in her unravel.
###
Later, after he came with a guttural curse and his hands in her hair, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her like he was starving.
Not just for her body. For something else.
Trust, maybe.
Love, maybe.
Whatever it was–it was too dangerous.
She couldn’t give it to him. Wouldn’t.
Not when the clock was ticking and the truth she carried could ruin them both.
###
“Tell me something,” he murmured against her temple, hours later, while she lay tangled in his sheets.
“Mm?”
“What are you hiding?”
Her breath caught.
“Don’t lie to me, Emilia.”
She turned her face toward his, calm on the outside. Chaos on the inside. “I’m not hiding anything.”
His gaze cut into her–sharp, like he saw too much.
“You hesitate when I touch you here–” his hand skimmed her hip, lower, teasing. “But not here.” He pressed his mouth between her breasts. “That’s not normal.”
She smiled, slow. “Maybe I just like messing with you.”
He didn’t smile back.
“Don’t mistake this”–he gripped her chin–“for safety. If I find out you’re playing me…”
Her heart pounded. “You’ll kill me?”
He leaned in. Whispered it into her throat.
“No. I’ll make you wish I did.”
###
She left his bed just before sunrise.
He didn’t follow.
But someone else did.
###
Outside the gallery, as Emilia stepped into her black car and shut the door, a shadow shifted in the alley across the street.
A figure.
Watching.
Recording.
And in his hand–Rafael’s photo.
He tucked it back into his coat pocket.
“Target has made contact,” he muttered into his phone. “She’s close. Very close.”
Then he disappeared into the dark.
- Writer
