Page 22 of Rafi

“Like your uncle?”

“I haven’t seen him in seven years. I don’t know anything about the business he conducts, and I don’t know where he is.”

“Give me something, Tayana. I’ll take anything.”

“I haven’t got anything for you,” she says, and the look in her eyes tells me she’s sincere. But I’m an asshole when I want to be, and I can’t help the next words that spew forth from my mouth.

“Why should I believe you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, my voice low and sharp.

“Because I want you gone,” she replies bluntly, meeting my gaze without flinching. “And if helping you gets you out of my life, then so be it.”

Without waiting for a response, she spins on her heels and strides toward the exit, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Tayana,” I call after her, my voice firm but not loud enough to stop her. She doesn’t even pause. The door swings shut behind her with a resounding slam, leaving me alone in the echoing silence of the room.

I exhale slowly, her words lingering in the air like a challenge. The weight of them settles on me, an unshakable reminder of the tangled web I’m stepping into.

As I leave the shelter, the night feels heavier than before. A part of me knows this isn’t the end. Tayana Kamarov is more than just a lead; she’s a puzzle—a dangerous, enigmatic puzzle. And for reasons I can’t quite explain, I’m certain our paths will cross again. She’s not the kind of person you walk away from so easily, and maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to until I’ve cracked her puzzle wide open.

14

TAYANA

Asharp knock at my office door breaks my concentration, and before I can answer, one of the security guards bursts in, his face flushed with tension.

“Ms. Kamarov, there’s… that man from yesterday… asking for you,”he says, his voice clipped.

I arch an eyebrow, knowing he can only be referring to one person. I’m about to tell him to send him away when the look on the guard’s face makes me pause.

The guard hesitates, his throat bobbing in a nervous swallow as sweat coats his forehead. “He’s on a motorcycle. He’s refusing to leave, and he’s... causing a scene. He has Alfred up against a wall; I think he broke his arm.”

My stomach knots, dread and curiosity warring for dominance. He was here only yesterday – is he backalready? I mutter a curse and slap my hands against the desk before I push my chair back and rise.

“I’ll handle it,” I mutter, and he follows me out the door. My shoes click sharply against the floor as I stride down the hallway, the guard trailing behind me. The knot in my stomach tightens with every step I take until I reach the front of the building.

The scene unfolds as soon as the doors slide open. Rafi stands in the middle of the lobby, unapologetically commanding attention. His black leather jacket clings to his broad shoulders; he’s all confidence and raw energy, an untamed force that fills the space like a storm.

He has a security guard pinned to the wall, the man’s face taut with frustration as his arm is bent awkwardly behind his back. Another security guard stands a few feet away, visibly torn between intervening and self-preservation.

“Call her,” Rafi demands, his voice low but razor-sharp, his eyes boring into the second guard. “Now.”

The guard fumbles with his radio, his hand shaking as he lifts it to his mouth.

“Gatti!” My voice rings out, sharp and commanding, cutting through the tension like a whip as it announces my presence.

His head snaps toward me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, the chaos seems to freeze, suspended in the electric charge between us. Then, slowly, he releases the guard, his movements deliberate, almost lazy, as if to show he was never truly threatening.

The guard stumbles back, clutching his arm and muttering curses under his breath before he drops to the ground. Rafi doesn’t spare him a glance, his focus solely on me.

“You finally made it,” he says, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

“Do you make a habit of terrorizing employees?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.

“They were in my way.” He shrugs as if that justifies his behavior.

“Why are you back here?” My blood is simmering. “I told you I’d let you know if I find anything.”

“I realized you don’t have any way to contact me,”he smirks. He lifts a helmet off the ground and extends it toward me. “Put this on.”

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