Chapter 176

Chapter 176
Sheryl's POV

The moment I heard Darren's name, my heart clenched like a fist had wrapped around it. I whipped my head toward Rhett, my voice betraying a tremor I couldn't hide. "How the hell is he here?"

Rhett lounged against the car seat, his gaze icy, a faint, dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him as his piercing eyes seemed to cut through everything. "Ever since I helped Miranda track down her brother, I've had a bad feeling about that charity. Hope Heaven Charity—on the surface, it's all about saving the downtrodden. Underneath? A damn cesspool."

"I had my people dig deeper," he continued, exhaling a plume of smoke, his tone low and menacing. "Turns out, the real players are tied to Italy. So, I sent some of my contacts there to infiltrate and investigate. And guess what? Darren, that bastard, is neck-deep with Italian underground crews. They're trafficking people—luring vulnerable folks from the charity, smuggling them into black markets, and selling them off as organ donors."

I froze, my mind reeling as if I'd been hit with a sledgehammer. Organ donors? Darren? The man who always wore that fake, loyal smile, pulling strings in the family like some twisted puppet master, was behind something this vile? I stared at Rhett, my throat dry as sandpaper. "How… how do you even know all this? You've got connections in Italy?"

Rhett let out a short, bitter chuckle, the sound laced with self-deprecation and a chilling edge. "Sheryl, I spent my life from seven to twenty in Italy. Thirteen years, and I didn't waste a single damn day. You think I got to where I am without getting my hands dirty? If I didn't have some tricks up my sleeve, I'd be six feet under by now."

I frowned slightly, my voice hesitant. "So, what, you're some kind of… mob boss, like in the movies?"

He flicked the ash from his cigarette, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "Scared now? Afraid your husband's some kind of devil?"

"No, Rhett," I said firmly, grabbing his hand and looking straight into his eyes. "I'm not scared. Even if you are, I trust you. Whatever path you choose, I'm standing with you."

His lips curved into a smirk, a flicker of something warm in his gaze. He reached out, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. "Damn right, I was a mob boss. But now? I've got my crew on the straight and narrow. We're stepping into the light together, you and me."

Kevin and his men, sitting nearby, nodded in agreement. Kevin grinned. "Mr. Hayes saved our skins. We owe him our lives. We're legit now, don't get us wrong. But anyone who dares touch him or his people? We'll fight to the death for them."

I looked at Rhett, my emotions a tangled mess. Pride swelled in me—admiration for how he navigated the shadows with such ease, commanding loyalty from men like these. But at the same time, my heart ached. What kind of pain had he endured to become this hardened, to dance on the edge of danger and still flash that carefree smirk? How many unseen enemies, how many hidden threats had he faced alone in the dark?

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By the time we reached the apartment in Rome, my mind was still a storm of thoughts. The room was dimly lit, amber light casting long shadows as Rhett sat on the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as he shrugged off his jacket. I stepped closer, my tone firm, leaving no room for argument. "Take off your shirt. I need to see your injuries."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the headboard with a lazy grin. "Getting bold, huh? Fine, help me out then." I ignored his teasing, my fingers working the buttons of his shirt. Underneath the bulletproof vest, his back was a patchwork of bruises, angry purple and blue from the impact of bullets that hadn't pierced through but had still left their mark. My fingers hovered over the marred skin, a sharp pang stabbing at my chest.

"It's nothing. Just a few bruises. I'll sleep it off," he muttered, his voice rough but casual, like it was no big deal. He tugged me down to sit beside him, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Help me get outta this gear. I wanna hold you and crash."

I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat, and helped him out of the vest and pants. He chuckled low, his tone dripping with mischief. "Might as well get the boxers off too. Save some time."

I shot him a glare, but seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and the marks on his body, I didn't argue. My cheeks burned as I complied, my hands trembling as I peeled away the last layer. My heart pounded like a drum. Rhett watched me, his expression shifting—part teasing, part something deeper, more unreadable.

The air in the room felt heavy, charged. For the first time, I took the lead, my skin prickling with heat, driven by an urge I couldn't name. I needed him to know he wasn't alone, that I cared, that I wanted to be close. His breath hitched as I moved closer, his hands gripping my waist, eyes blazing with a raw intensity. "Sheryl, you sure about this?" he murmured, voice low and rough.

I didn't answer with words. Instead, I let my actions speak. I looked down at him, his eyes hazy with desire, and leaned in, my lips brushing his.

Slowly, I guided him, my hands steadying as I felt him, drawing him in bit by bit until he filled me completely. "Hmm… so hot… I want you, Rhett…" I whispered, my voice trembling with need.

Our bodies melded together, heat and sweat mingling, every touch like a jolt of electricity. His rough hands were gentle on my back, cautious, as if afraid to hurt me. I could sense his restraint, but also the storm raging beneath it.

"Fuck, Sher! Faster!" he growled, my name a guttural rasp on his lips, like years of pent-up emotion were breaking free.

Time stretched, each second burning and endless. His kisses grazed my shoulder, shaky, as I felt his heartbeat sync with mine. The room was filled with nothing but our ragged breaths, the Rome night outside a distant, silent witness. In that moment, all the walls, doubts, and pain seemed to dissolve, leaving only the heat of us.

Afterward, I rested against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. He looked down at me, his voice a quiet rasp, raw with a vulnerability I rarely saw. "Today… seeing you step in front of me, choosing to save me… it hit me hard. You made me feel like I matter to you, like I'm worth something."

I froze for a second, then met his gaze. Those usually cold eyes shimmered with unshed emotion, holding a weight of unspoken words. My chest tightened, and I reached up, cupping his face, my voice thick. "Rhett, you're not alone. I care about you—more than you'll ever know."

He didn't say anything, just pulled me closer, his arms tightening around me. In the dark, I felt the slight tremble in his breath, like he'd finally let go of some heavy burden. Right then, I knew—no matter what shadows loomed ahead, we had each other to lean on.