RAFAEL
I stepped into the small, sterile holding room and the sight that greeted me made me stop dead for half a second.
Her.
Isabella Reyes, my frumpy, scarf-wearing, braces-and-glasses assistant, was sitting on the dirty floor with her knees pulled to her chest, crying silently. Her cheek was already bruising from a slap. The ridiculous scarf had slipped again, showing off those dark hickeys I’d noticed earlier.
I hadn’t expected her.
I closed the door behind me with a soft click and began circling her slowly, my expensive shoes echoing in the tiny space. A heavy sigh of pure frustration escaped me.
“Today of all f*****g days,” I muttered. “You’ve been acting strange since morning, Reyes. Late, nervous, avoiding eye contact. And now I find out you’re the one who tried to use my bl
