Chapter 15: No one touches what’s mine.
943 Words
Raf’s POV – Unleashed Fury
The second he saw her—
The second he saw what they had done to her—
He lost it.
His vision blurred red.
Her split lip.
The bruises blooming across her cheek, her jaw, her ribs—
Her wrists, raw and bleeding from where they had tied her down.
His blood ran ice cold.
His men had moved ahead of him.
Had started cleaning up the trash.
But none of it mattered.
Not when she was here.
Not when she had been hurt.
Not when they had dared to put their hands on her.
The man at her feet was already dead.
Not enough.
Not nearly enough.
His grip on his gun tightened.
Another man came charging out of the hall, pulling his own weapon.
Raf didn’t even blink.
He lifted his gun, put two bullets in his chest, and dropped him.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Straight to her.
Teri looked up at him, eyes still wild, still fighting.
Still alive.
And f**k, that nearly took him out more than anything else.
“Teri.” His voice was rough. Too rough.
She exhaled, chest rising, falling—too fast, too unsteady.
Her grip on the wrench loosened.
Like her body was finally giving in.
Raf’s hands shot out, grabbing her before she could collapse.
And just like that, she was in his arms.
Safe.
His.
But when she lifted her head, when her bruised, bloodied lips parted, her voice wasn’t weak.
Wasn’t broken.
She smirked.
“You took your damn time.”
Raf exhaled a sharp breath.
Something cracked open in his chest, something dangerous, something reckless.
And when he looked down at her, still holding on, still fighting—
His rage only grew.
Because this wasn’t over.
Not yet.
There were still bodies to drop.
Still men who needed to suffer.
For touching her.
For thinking they could keep her from him.
So he held her close—just for a second.
Then turned to his men.
His voice was lethal. Cold.
“Burn it down.”
Because this wasn’t just a rescue.
This was vengeance.
Raf’s POV – The Extraction
Raf kept one arm wrapped tightly around Teri, his grip firm, unrelenting, possessive.
She was hurt.
Bruised. Bleeding.
But she was still standing.
Still fighting.
And that?
That only fueled the rage clawing inside him.
Because she shouldn’t have had to fight.
She shouldn’t have had to survive this alone.
He should have been here sooner.
He should have never left her at all.
His jaw clenched as he held her close, his gun still raised as his men swept through the warehouse, ruthless, efficient, deadly.
A body dropped to his right.
Then another.
Good.
Not enough.
His voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos.
“Find the leader. Alive.”
His men knew better than to question him.
They moved.
Fast.
Raf turned his attention back to Teri, scanning her face, taking in every bruise, every cut—
His fingers curled so tightly into her waist, he was sure he was leaving his own mark.
But he didn’t let go.
Wouldn’t let go.
Not again.
Never again.
“Teri,” he murmured, his voice rough, lower than he intended.
Her eyes fluttered open, blurry but sharp all at once.
She smirked, the corner of her busted lip lifting.
“You gonna carry me out of here, big guy?”
Fuck.
Even now—even like this, she was impossible.
And God help him, he was never letting her go.
“Don’t tempt me, bella,” he muttered, shifting his grip on her, steadying her weight.
She winced.
His rage flared again.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, softer this time.
For the first time since he set foot in this hellhole, she exhaled like she believed him.
And Raf?
He vowed, right then and there, that no one would ever lay a f*****g hand on her again.
Because she was his.
And the men who had taken her?
They weren’t just going to die.
They were going to suffer.
The Last Man Standing
They found the leader trying to sneak out the back.
Raf had been waiting for this.
The bastard didn’t even get the chance to raise his gun before Raf’s men dragged him forward, throwing him to his knees.
Blood stained his suit.
One eye was already swollen shut.
Pathetic.
Raf handed Teri off to Enzo, ignoring her weak protest.
He turned toward the man, his expression unreadable.
The leader spat blood onto the floor, smirking despite the way his lip split wider.
“Little late, don’t you think?” he rasped.
Raf didn’t answer.
Didn’t react.
He just stepped forward and slammed his boot into the man’s ribs, sending him sprawling onto the ground.
The leader choked, gasping.
Raf crouched beside him, pressing his gun against the side of his already broken face.
His voice was lethal, quiet.
“You made a mistake.”
The leader laughed, pained and hoarse.
“Yeah? And what was that?”
Raf leaned in.
“You touched what’s mine.”
The words were deadly, final.
The leader went still.
Because he understood.
This wasn’t business.
This wasn’t just revenge.
This was personal.
Raf stood, flicking his gun toward his men.
“Take him.”
Luca hesitated. “Alive?”
Raf’s lips curled into something dark.
“Oh, he’s not dying tonight.”
No.
Not yet.
Raf was going to take his time.
He was going to make sure this bastard felt everything he had put Teri through tenfold.
Until he was begging for death.
Then—**and only then—**would Raf end him.
- Writer
