Page 7 of Fired at the Heart

The room quiets, their expressions freezing first with shock, then with disbelief at the audacity of my demand.

I don’t care. This isn’t about them. Not about their pride or their egos. This is about me and the pain of betrayal still burning in my veins. I have more money than I could ever need. I can buyanythingI want, exceptthis.

Raphael stiffens, hands clenching into fists on the table as his pride battles with the knowledge they can’t afford to lose me this time.

The silence stretches on, broken only by the sound of our breathing and the pounding of my heart in my ears.

I press the pen to my chin, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “What’s it going to be, Raphael? How much is your pride worth to you?”

3

The muscles in Raphael’s jaw work as he struggles to maintain his composure, that infuriatingly attractive stubble highlighting the sharp angles of his face.

My skin prickles with awareness as he rises and stalks around the table toward me, and in no way do I admire the way his broad shoulders fill out the tailored lines of his suit. The spicy musk of his pheromones invades my senses, transporting me back to stolen moments in darkened hallways, heated kisses that left me aching for more.

He stops next to my chair. “May we speak in private?”

Beside me, Cassian stiffens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Anything you have to say to Avery, you can say here.”

“Don’t speak for me, Cassian,” I correct sharply. “I can handle my own affairs.”

He stiffens but bows his head. “Yes, boss.”

Raphael’s eyes skims past my second with a flicker of disdain, then fixes on me, the history between us crackling in the air like electricity.

My heart pounds as I weigh my options. Every instinct screams at me to refuse, to hold on to the tattered remnants of my pride. Anger pulses through me, but buried beneath it is a traitorous craving to be alone with my Alpha, to feel the heat of his touch one more time.

“Fine. I’ll listen to what you have to say.” I rise from my seat and straighten my jacket, though I leave it unbuttoned for faster access to my weapons. “But don’t think it will get you out of your very public groveling. That is non-negotiable.”

Raphael’s expression twists with triumph, stirring in me an urge to both kiss him and slam him into the nearest wall. He gestures toward a side door, an unspoken challenge in the set of his shoulders for me to walk ahead of him.

I brush past Cassian, ignoring the disapproval radiating off him in waves.

Spine straight, I stride out of the banquet hall, the click of the door shutting behind us as final as the sound of a firing gun.

“Let’s go to the library,” Raphael says from behind me, his deep rumble curling down my spine and filling me with warmth. “You remember the way, right?”

“Of course.” I stride down the hall and through the open doors to the library.

Just like the rest of the manor, it remains unchanged. The only difference comes in a throw blanket tossed over the back of the settee, like someone in the Rockford family spends time here now.

The doors shut behind me, and I turn to find Raphael leaning against them, hunger radiating from every inch of him. The way he takes me in, like a starving man faced with a feast, sends a shiver through me.

I cross my arms, determined to maintain some semblance of control. “So? What did you want that couldn’t have been said in the other room?”

“You know what I want.” He pushes off the doors, closing the distance between us with a predatory grace that sends my pulse racing. “It’s always been you.”

“And here I thought you wanted respectability.” My lip curls with disgust. “How is life behind the desk treating you? Finally putting the law degree you detested so much to good use, huh?”

When Raphael went through law school to keep up family appearances, it almost drove him insane, but he needed it to set up his fake law practice for his family to funnel money through. He’d been all too eager to abandon the business to let other people run it.

For someone like Raphael, sitting behind a desk was torture. But that’s all he does now.

I run my fingers across the desk near the window. “How is it, living a lie?”

“Nothing about what I do is a lie.” His shoulders stiffen. “You’d understand that if you came back to me, where you belong.”

“I’m already where I belong. You’re the one who misplaced yourself when you threw me away. Threwusaway.” I let out a harsh laugh, the sound grating in my throat. “If that’s all you had to say, we can return to the banquet hall.”

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