Page 41 of The Dark Obsession

“Rosa, can I see you? I’m going through so much, and I know you are too.”

“I beg of you to forgive me, Rosa. I told you I wasn’t good. My father influenced me too much.”

My hands shake and tears splat messily on my phone’s screen. I sit upright, breathing deeply.

“I’m going to come to see you after the funeral. Please, let’s just talk.”

“Is it wrong of me to love you? To see the threat of Rafael and want to keep you mine?”

“Nothing will change how I feel about you. I’d rather die than part with you hating me.”

I throw my phone onto my bed and thrust my head into my hands. “Why?” I cry out to myself as silently as possible. With silence being my worst companion, I wish Rafael had come upstairs with me.

I shove my clothes, makeup, some perfume, and my toiletries into a backpack—I can always pop back here if I need anything—and sit on my bed. I close my eyes for a moment.“If wanting you is a crime, then send me to Hell.”Dale’s words echo in my mind, tugging dangerously at my already torn heart. I wrap my arms around myself, pulling myself together.

A finger brushes my forehead, then moves my hair from over my face. “Come,” Rafael whispers.

I open my eyes slightly.

He takes my hands to pull me up. “Let’s get you settled at mine.” He grabs my backpack and puts his hand on my back to lead me from my room.

I exchange a hug with my father, and he whispers for me to be good, before kissing my head.

Benjamin smiles and stage whispers for me to not do anything he wouldn’t do.

Rafael’s lips press into a hard smile, and he turns to leave my house.

My father’s and Benjamin’s laughter fills the house as we approach the front door.

Rafael keeps his hand on my back as we head for his car. He drives slower now, glancing at me every few seconds.

I stare ahead, watching the clouds disappear. The sun shines through the window, warming the car. I lower the window a little. The fresh, cold wind blows invitingly on my warm face.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, his eyes back on the road.

“Umm, sort of.”

He nods. I see his cheek rise with what seems to be a smile, and he presses his foot to accelerate the car along the winding country road.

Fifteen minutes pass, and we say nothing. We pull in front of a small coffeehouse and park next to a Range Rover, with large, darkly tinted side windows. Two large blossom trees sit sturdily in front of the building, the branches hanging loosely to the ground.

“Come.” He turns off the engine and gets out.

I clamber from the car and stand by his side. We walk together to the door. THEHIDDENCOFFEE, the small sign reads above the door.

I raise my eyebrows at Rafael. “How do you know this place?”

“I bring clients here. It’s a quiet and private place.” He smiles and opens the door, chiming a little bell.

Bright lights illuminate the coffeeshop’s black walls and white tables. Small spotlights guide us down a pathway between the candlelit tables.

A waitress wearing a small black dress rushes up to us, smiling. “Mr Alcazar.” She greets him with a small curtsey and motions to us to sit.

He smiles at her and pulls out a chair for me. “Two cappuccinos to start with, please.”

She nods and pirouettes. Her dress doesn’t conceal much of her body, and she sashays behind a small bar in the corner of the room.

Rafael watches her go, his eyes move over her body, once, then sits opposite me and hands me a menu. “How are you feeling?”

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