Page 23 of Rafi

I stare at him, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

“We’re going for a ride,” he says, his tone so certain that I find my tongue tied, unable to form a response.

I glance at the security guards, their wary expressions only adding to my unease. “I’m at work, Rafi. I don’t have time for—like, really…who do you think you are?”

“This isn’t a request, Tayana,” he interrupts, his smirk fading into something harder, something lethal. “Get on the bike. Or your security here will have to carry me out of here in a bodybag.”

I hesitate, the weight of his gaze pressing down on me. There’s something in his eyes, a mix of challenge and darkness that’s impossible to ignore. Against all logic, I find myself reaching for the helmet.

The ride is a blur of wind and adrenaline. I grip the sides of his jacket tightly, the roar of the engine drowning out everything but the pounding of my heart. The city rushes past in a kaleidoscope of lights and shadows, and for a moment, I let myself forget everything—work, responsibility, the mess of emotions this man stirs in me.

When we finally stop, it’s at a secluded lookout perched high above the city. The view takes my breath away—an endless expanse of twinkling lights stretching out to meet the horizon.

Rafi swings off the bike first, holding out a hand to help me dismount. I ignore it, slipping off on my own, but the smirk he gives me says he expected nothing less.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” he says, gesturing toward the view.

“It is beautiful,” I admit, my voice softer now, the tension between us easing just a fraction.

He leans against the bike, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me. “Figured you could use a break.”

I turn to him, my brows knitting together. “So, you decided to kidnap me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, his gaze dark and intent. “You’re too wound up, Tayana. A good break might just jog your memory, help me with a little something I need.”

“This is another fishing expedition? And here I was thinking you actually cared about me.”

“Who says there’s one without the other?”

His words hit a nerve, striking something deep inside me I’d rather not acknowledge. I look away, focusing on the city below, the lights blurring as the world fades into darkness.

“Come on,” he says, walking towards the railing.

“I can’t, Rafi. You dragged me away from work.”

He turns back to look at me, holds my gaze for a moment longer than is reasonably comfortable, before he moves back towards me.

“You can,” he says firmly, stepping closer until his warmth radiates against me. “With me, you can.”

I don’t know what compels me to lift my eyes and meet his gaze, but when I do, the intensity there leaves me breathless. For a moment, it feels like the world has stopped spinning, the only thing anchoring me the quiet promise in his eyes.

“You’re not used to anyone taking control,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “You’ve been your own person for too long, you’ve forgotten how to let someone in. You don’t get to do that with me.”

“All this for a scrap of information?” I smirk.

“All this to spend time with you. We’re not done yet, Tayana Kamarov. We’re just getting started.”

We lieside by side on the cool grass, just beyond the railing, the city sprawling out beneath us like a shimmering sea of light. The stars above seem impossibly close, their glow so bright it feels as if they’re whispering secrets only the universe understands. The air carries the faint scent of pine and earth, grounding me even as my thoughts drift.

The stars always remind me of my mother, and for a moment, I let myself linger in my memories of her before turning to look at Rafi.

He’s stretched out beside me, his hands folded under his head, his profile sharp against the dark sky. His presence is magnetic, impossible to ignore, even in stillness.

It’s just us here, wrapped in the quiet hum of the night, the stars our only witnesses.

“What are you thinking?”I ask, breaking the silence, my voice soft but curious. I’ve never done this before—ditched work on a whim, thrown my responsibilities to the wind, or sat in quiet companionship with a man I barely know. Yet here I am, with Rafi Gatti of all people, and I can’t deny the pull he has over me.

He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze remains fixed on the stars, his expression unreadable. “I’m wondering what the stars are thinking,” he says finally, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Shining down on us the way they are.”

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