"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he laughed. "I didn't need to buy you to own you, not when you gave yourself to me so willingly." I moved to the stove, cracking eggs into a bowl furiously when it became clear that he meant every word and wouldn't allow me any reprieve to clean myself off. "We're going to see a friend after breakfast. I'm feeling gracious enough that I'll let you clean yourself off before then."

"Thank you,El Diablo. How fucking generous of you," I spat, tossing a grape tomato at him. The bastard caught it as if he was superhuman, popping it into his mouth and claiming his seat at the island with his phone.

I had a feeling he would very much enjoy the show of me trying to keep his cum inside me while I cooked.

* * *

The "friend" we went to visit turned out to be the infamous Matteo Bellandi. If I'd thought the security at Rafe's Chicago house was intense, it was nothing compared to the modern system of the Bellandi Estate. Knowing that the man's father had been friends with Miguel didn't fill me with any kind of warmth as we made our way up the long, winding drive.

"When can we see my family again?" I asked as Santiago pulled the car up in front of the house. An older man stepped out, greeting us with a kind smile even before we exited the vehicle.

"We'll give them a couple of days to consider everything we told them. I hope it proves to be enough time for them to come to their senses," Rafael said, shoving open his car door. Joaquin opened mine for me, and Rafe appeared just in time to hold out a hand for me to take. The white and pink floral fabric of my dress dropped almost to my knees, hanging off my shoulders as I stood and gave him a smile. The bandage covering my wound made me feel ridiculous in nice clothes, but I hadn’t fought it when Rafe laid out the pretty dress.

"I hope you're right," I murmured, contemplating the blinding hatred I'd seen in my grandmother's eyes when she looked at Rafael. I had no doubt deceiving her about the kind of man Rafe was would prove pointless, but there was a small glimmer of hope that she might see the way he helped me find my desire to stand up for myself and find that endearing at the very least.

The man stepped up as we moved toward the front of the house. "Rafael," he greeted, a kind smile consuming his face.

"Don," Rafe said, and there was a trace of warmth in his voice that I wouldn't have expected.

"You must be Mrs. Ibarra," Don said, nodding politely but making no move to shake my hand or make any form of greeting behind the words.

"Isa is fine," I said with an uncomfortable laugh. Rafe's glare felt heavy on the side of my face, undoubtedly taking my hatred for the formality of the name as a denial of his claim on me. I was far too young to be Mrs. anything.

"Matteo is inside. He's eager to finally meet you," he said, turning and striding into the house. Rafe and I followed at his heels, Joaquin and Santiago trailing behind us and showing how comfortable they were inside the house. There was no doubt they'd all spent a considerable amount of time here before.

They veered off as we stepped into the kitchen, an immaculate space that was clearly well-loved and taken care of by someone. A beautiful brunette stood at the counter, her daughter seated on it in front of her and working to stir the contents of a bowl, with her pink tongue pinched between her teeth.

"Just a bit more, Little Moon," the woman murmured, turning her surprised gaze up to us as we entered the space. A shock of sea-green eyes met mine, startling for how vivid they were and framed by endearing freckles and plush lips that many women would have envied. "Rafael," she said gently, picking up a wet cloth from the counter and cleaning her daughter's fingers.

Lifting the little girl off the counter to place her on the floor, she stepped around the island and leaned in to touch her lips to Rafe's cheek affectionately. "Ivory," he greeted, smirking at what he had to know was jealousy surging in my veins.

It was ridiculous, given she was the wife of his friend, but knowing she was far closer to his age and probably his level of experience didn't help. Having been face-to-face with the more wordly version of me in my twin the day before certainly hadn't either.

I was a virgin who’d had no clue what sex looked like with any other man, and I couldn't even begin to fathom how irritating it was to have to teach his wife everything regarding sex.

The little girl raced around the island, her dark hair that flowed past her shoulders flying behind her as she flung herself into Rafael's arms when he knelt to scoop her up. "Rafey!" she shrieked, her lungs filling with air as he rested her on his hip.

"How's the moon girl?" he asked, grinning at her with a lightness I hadn't ever seen on his face before.

"We make cookies!" she said excitedly, pointing to the bowl where she'd been stirring for her mother.

"Did you know I love chocolate chip cookies?" he asked. "Isa does, too. She loves sweets."

"Mhm," the little girl hummed. "For you!"

"There's a reason you're one of my best girls," Rafe said, turning a broad smile to me, before he tugged me around his side. "Isa, this is Luna. She's Matteo and Ivory's," he said, turning his attention to the woman. "Where's your worse half?"

"Here, you dick," the man who must have been Matteo said, appearing at the mouth of the hallway on the other side of the kitchen, with a baby boy held in one arm.

"Bad word!" Luna yelled, shoving at Rafe's chest as she demanded he put her down. She ran for her father, allowing him to pick her up with his free hand and nestle her into his chest.

"Matteo, this is Isa," Rafe said with a laugh, curling me into his side possessively in the absence of the little girl who demanded attention.

"His wife," I inserted, giving him a mocking smile that he returned with a deep chuckle.

"Turnabout is fair play," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Matteo strolled forward, shifting his son into Rafael’s arms. Rafe abandoned his grip on me to cuddle the baby into his chest. Ivory’s sea green eyes stared out of his round face, a light dusting of dark hair on top of his head as he babbled up at Rafe. “You must be little Brio. Lucky you look like your mom,” Rafe murmured to the boy.

"Wife? It seems Rafael has withheld some information," Matteo said with a tentative smile. He held out his free hand for me, shifting Luna higher on his hip. I took his hand, shaking it as he drew me forward out of Rafe's grip to touch his lips to my cheek playfully. Just a brief touch of his lips against my skin, I couldn't stop the flush that spread to my cheeks instantly when he pulled back.