Page 216 of The Devil's Thorn
I turned then, just enough to meet his gaze over my shoulder. “This isn’t about Rafael. This is about getting answers. You know that.”
Ash pushed off the wall, his expression hard. “And if those answers cost you everything?”
I didn’t answer right away. My hand moved to where the small bruise was on my wrist—faded now, but not gone. Neither were the memories tied to it.
“I’m not a child,” I said quietly. “I knew what I was doing when I stepped into his world.”
“And yet here we are, watching you walk off into a lion’s mouth without us,” Kellan muttered.
I turned fully now, facing them both. “You’re not going because you’d make it worse. You’d draw too much attention.”
“And Rafael won’t?” Ash challenged. “He’s already on thin ice with the Italians. Now he’s showing up withyouon his arm?”
I didn’t flinch. “Exactly.”
They didn’t respond. They didn’t need to.
I turned back to the mirror, adjusting the strap of the dress. My hair was pulled into a soft, elegant updo, pieces curled perfectly around my face. The makeup was darker than I usually wore—smoky eyes, wine-red lips—but it fit. Tonight wasn’t about blending in. It was about power. And I needed to look like I belonged beside Rafael Romanov.
Even if half of Italy wanted him dead.
I reached for my clutch, slipping the pendant inside, the cool metal brushing against my fingers.
The knock at the door was sharp. Three quick raps. Kellan moved before I could, peering through the peephole and then opening the door without a word.
Rafael stood there, dressed in all black, his jacket tailored to his frame, dark shirt open at the collar. His eyes found mine instantly.
And he didn’t look away.
My pulse quickened. He didn’t say anything—not yet. Just looked. And that was enough.
Kellan stepped back without a word. Ash didn’t move at all. I crossed the room slowly, letting my heels echo against the marble, and when I reached Rafael, I tilted my chin up and looked him in the eyes.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice rough and quiet.
I nodded once, the fire in my chest steady and unshakable.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
And I stepped out of the suite without looking back.
The soft click of the door closing behind us echoed too loud in my chest. The hallway stretched before us, but I barely felt the marble beneath my heels—just the heat of Rafael’s presence beside me, the silence crackling like static between us.
His hand brushed my lower back, featherlight, barely there. Yet the gesture lit something low and warm in my stomach.
“You look…” He paused, eyes sweeping over me slowly, deliberately. “Like danger dressed in silk.”
I glanced up at him, my lips twitching. “And you look like the kind of danger people run from.”
His mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile. “They usually should.”
We reached the elevator, the doors sliding open with a whisper. As we stepped in, silence settled again—familiar now. Comfortable in its tension.
The elevator chimed and opened on the ground floor. Waiting by the entrance were Nikolai and Yuri, both dressed sharply in dark suits, their presence impossible to ignore.
Yuri gave a long, low whistle. “Damn,bella. You sure this gathering’s not in your honor?”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips betrayed me with a hint of a smile. “Don’t be jealous I clean up better than you.”
