Page 9 of Rafi

Cassie narrows her eyes as I laugh, unamused.

I pretend the name means nothing to me. When it means more than I ever want to acknowledge. He’s everything that reminds me where I’ve come from and what I’m fighting against. He’s trouble. I shrug as she continues to watch me with obvious distaste and sit back in my seat before I answer. “Should the name mean something to me?”

Her jaw drops like I’ve just committed blasphemy. “You really don’t remember him? He went to Brighton with us. Two years ahead. Everyone—and I meaneveryone—was obsessed with him. Look at him!”

Her gaze drifts across the dance floor, landing on him. Rafi’s eyes are locked on our table with an intensity that should be criminal. Ice-cold anxiety prickles down my spine. Two daysago, he walked into this club like he was searching for something—or someone. And the way he zeroed in on me? It wasn’t a coincidence. I’m that someone. Now I just have to figure out what he wants, because I don’t for a second believe that he’s just here for a good time. He’s a threat, a sledgehammer poised to shatter all my carefully laid plans. Plus, his timing is lousy – barely a week after Sasha died in my arms on the dock. We’re no closer to knowing what happened; we’ve lost a great contact, and the girl is gone. And Rafi Gatti turns up out of no-where, looking for something. All related, if you ask me.

“Guess I missed the memo,” I say, swirling the ice in my glass, my voice flat.

Cassie groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Of course you did. You were too busy being a martyr. But, Tayana, he was everywhere. Football star. Brilliant student. And,” she adds, drawing out the word, “he washot. Still is.”

I glance at her, unimpressed. “So you’ve said.”

She grabs my arm, her glossed lips curving into a pout. “Don’t take my word for it! Just look at him.Look!”

“I have,” I deadpan. “Wasn’t impressed. Move along.”

Her pout deepens, but she doesn’t relent. “He was talking to you the other night. Can you at least introduce me?”

I set my glass down with more force than intended, fixing her with a pointed glare. “Cassie, don’t ruin my night.”

Her mouth opens, probably to argue, but I cut her off with a wave. “You don’t know him. You know the version of him you built up in your head years ago.”

She sulks for a moment before collapsing back into her seat with a huff. “Fine. But if he looks over here, I’m waving.”

I’m still watchinghim hours later as the strobe lights cut through the dim haze, briefly lighting up his face. His sharp features are unmistakable, as his dark eyes scan everything and nothing all at once, a calculated indifference that only fuels my irritation.

A woman approaches him, her dress painted on and her lips curved in a practiced smile. She leans in close, whispering something against his ear. He doesn’t react at first, just lifts his glass to his lips. The girl laughs and places a hand on his arm. He looks at her and says something that makes her smile falter. Her hand slips quickly from his arm and she moves away a moment later, her confidence shaken.

Another woman takes her place. Then another. Each one trying their luck, each one walking away with a similar expression of disappointment. I don’t know what makes Cassie think she even has a chance with him; although she’s beautiful, I don’t think, judging by the way he’s knocking back offer after offer, that he’s interested in anyone here tonight.

I don’t know why I’m watching him. Maybe it’s the challenge in his expression, the way he seems so utterly unimpressed by everything happening around him. Or maybe it’s the way he’s drawn attention without trying, making himself the center of gravity in a room full of people desperate to be seen.

It’s irritating.

“You’re staring.”

Cassie’s voice startles me. She’s at my elbow, her eyes sparkling as she glances between me and Rafi. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” I say sharply, turning away from the railing. “Nothing to miss.”

Cassie’s laughter follows me as I shoot my body guards a warning look before I walk away. I don’t look back as I weave through the crowd, past grinding bodies and glowing drinks, until I reach a quieter corner of the club. The bass still thunders in my chest, but the noise feels distant here.

Tension finds me, sneaking in like toxic smoke, clinging to the edges of my mind until it’s impossible to ignore. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes for a moment, willing myself to stay calm. It’s not the first time someone like Rafi has walked into my life, unsettling the fragile balance I’ve worked tirelessly to maintain. But there’s something about him that feels different—he doesn’t just carry trouble; heistrouble. I’d bet my life on it.

Yet, his presence is impossible to ignore. His face, a striking study of sharp angles and dark intensity, is marred by a mess of cuts and fresh bruises—a brutal tapestry that screams of violence. And yet here he is, standing casually in a place he has no business being. I can’t even begin to understand how he got past the bouncers; they’re usually experts at spotting danger before it strolls through the door. But Rafi? He’s obviously a masterclass in slipping past defenses, in more ways than one.

Trouble has been a shadow at my heels for as long as I can remember. Not the petty kind, but the kind that leaves scars—on your soul, your name, your freedom. For years now, I’ve made it my mission to stay clear of it, to carve out a life that has nothing to do with my family’s legacy of blood and crime. I’ve fought tooth and nail to sever every tie, to forge my own path away from the darkness they thrive in.

And then Rafi Gatti walks into my life like a loaded gun, silent but undeniably dangerous, threatening to shatter the fragile balance I’ve spent years piecing together. His presencealone is a quiet promise of chaos, a reminder of everything I’ve run from.

My family, the Aslanovs, is everything wrong with the world. A dynasty of power, corruption, and control, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. And Rafi’s family? They’re cut from the same blood-stained cloth. I’ve spent years walking the fine line of escape, the constant tug of that life pulling at my ankles. I’ve burned bridges, buried connections, and vowed to never look back.

But Rafi doesn’t care about my carefully laid plans or the life I’ve clawed my way into. His arrival feels like the universe mocking me, daring me to confront everything I’ve denied myself. I can’t let him get close. I won’t. Because the moment I do, everything I’ve built will crumble, and I refuse to let that happen.

When I open my eyes, I catch a glimpse of him through the crowd. He’s still at the bar, still watching the room with that infuriatingly calm demeanor. Another woman approaches, her hand brushing against his as she leans in to talk. This time, he smiles, but it’s a faint, fleeting thing, gone before it feels real.

I tear my gaze away, my jaw clenching as I force the thought aside. He’s not my problem—not tonight. Not when there’s so much else pressing down on me.

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