Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Raelyn POV

The house felt wrong in the morning, like unusual quietness that felt foreign. Every morning,mateo would be clanking spoons in the kitchen trying to make himself something to eat, but today wasn't like that.

I didn’t open the door even after I heard him get up. Rafael’s footsteps were slow, like he were dragging himself to his room.

I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me again, but I was afraid of what it meant that he already had.

I stepped into the long corridor, pulling the sleeve of my sweater over the faded bruise. The floorboards made soft sounds as my feet padded around and I almost turned back to my room to hide again and never face anyone but staying locked in that room made me feel more like a ghost than a person—like a shadow hiding from a man who slept on the floor to keep himself from breaking again.

I had just reached the end of the corridor when a familiar voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“I should have known you would still be here.”

Dante.

I froze.

He stood with one shoulder pressed to the wall, with his arms crossed, eyes cold and assessing me like he was staring at a stain he couldn’t wait to remove. He didn’t bother to hide the disdain twisting his mouth.

“You don’t belong here,” he said. “You never did. How many times do I have to tell you?"

My stomach dipped, but I kept my chin up. “Move, Dante. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Oh, you are,” he said, pushing off the wall, stepping into my space. “Because you keep pretending you are a part of this family, and someone needs to remind you—you’re not.”

I swallowed, forcing my voice to sound steady. “You don’t get to decide that.”

He let out a low, humorless laugh.

“Rafael does, and trust me, sweetheart, he didn’t pick you because he loves you.”

That one hit harder than I expected. A sharp, pressing pain direct to my heart .

“What?” I whispered.

Dante’s smile... well,it wasn’t a smile at all, more like a sinister smirk playing on his lips.

“You really think he married you out of devotion?” His head tilted, eyes narrowing. “I thought you were smart, Raelyn. He kept you because you were convenient, because hurting you hurt someone else more.” He tapped his temple. “Because revenge is the only thing he’s ever been faithful to.”

A breath left me too quickly. I hated that he saw it.

“Stop,” I managed. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“I know him,” Dante said. “Better than you ever will. And I know what men like him do when they’ve had enough of their toys.”

My throat tightened. “Get out of my way.”

But he didn’t;he just leaned closer, voice dropping to a vicious whisper.

“You think staying with him makes you strong? It makes you stupid, and when he breaks you for real, don’t expect any of us to clean up after him.”

I didn’t move until he brushed past me, his shoulder knocking mine just hard enough to make me stumble.

“Run while you still can,” he added without looking back. "Rafael isn't who you think he is"

By the time I found my breath again, he was gone.

I pressed a hand to my chest trying to calm fear, anger, humiliation, all of it crashing at once. I swallowed it down, wiped my face, and kept walking.

But the moment I reached the living room, Rafael stepped inside from the back door, his hair was damp from showering,a fresh bandage around his knuckles. His eyes locked on my face instantly.

He stopped, and I did the same.

“Raelyn,” he said, his voice low, cautious, as if he was afraid to break me or he wasn't sure of himself.

I tried to look away, but his gaze caught my shaking hands, the way my breath was uneven, I didn’t know which was which, and his jaw tightened.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly.

He took a step closer and another

“Who?” His voice was soft but dangerous. “Who put that look on your face?”

I shook my head. “Rafael, leave it.”

“No.” His breath hitched, anger flickering under his eyes. “Tell me what he said.”

“He?”

Damn it!.

His eyes darkened. “Dante.”

I hated how transparent I was to him. I hated that knowing what Dante said made something violent rise in Rafael, some instinct older than reason.

He moved closer until I felt the heat of his body, until the scent of soap filled the air between us.

“What did he say?” He repeated, his voice turning rough.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” He stepped in again.

“Look at me.”

I did stupidly, foolishly.

And everything inside me twisted.

His eyes were still swollen from sleeplessness, still red around the edges. He looked broken. My heartbeat stuttered because this version of him—this raw, remorseful, desperate version — was harder to guard against than the angry one.

“What did he tell you?” Rafael asked again, quieter.

I swallowed. “That you only keep me for revenge.”

He breathed shakily, as if someone had punched him. A flash of something — maybe pain, disbelief or panic — crossed his face before he masked it.

Then he took gently my wrist without thinking, so gently it made my chest hurt, and held it like proof that he could touch something without breaking.

“Raelyn,” he whispered, “that is the one thing I would never—”

“Don’t.” I stepped back, pulling my hand free before I could lose myself in him again. “Please. Just… don’t say anything right now.”

His jaw clenched. “Why?”

“Because you’re too close,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.

He stared at me.

“You think distance is going to fix anything between us?” he murmured.

“I think it’s the only thing keeping us from making it worse. Let's just keep it as it is.”

For a second, his forehead almost dipped toward mine like he wanted to kiss me, but I was the one who stepped away first.

The space between us snapped back to reality, stinging both of us.

Rafael’s chest rose and dropped, like he were forcing himself to stay still.

“Raelyn,” he whispered, his voice cracking on my name.

But I didn’t turn back, not because I didn’t want to. Because I wanted too much.

And wanting him right now felt like standing on the edge of the same cliff he pushed me off slowly, with tenderness and love.

I kept walking.

Behind me, I heard Rafael exhale a low, broken sound.

The kind a man makes when holding himself together finally becomes harder than falling apart.