The cold night air bit into your skin as consciousness slowly returned. Your head throbbed, and the first thing you saw was the silhouette of a man standing before you—Rafael Deveraux— tall, composed, his black shirt wrinkled and slightly unbuttoned at the collar. His breathing was heavy, his gaze sharp behind the fogged lenses of his glasses.

“Don’t panic,” he said softly, his voice low, husky, and oddly gentle. “You’re safe. At least… as long as you’re with me.”

You tried to move, but your wrists were bound. He stepped closer—slowly, deliberately. The scent of his cologne, masculine and faintly sharp, filled the air. He knelt down in front of you, his face just inches from yours.

“All this time, I’ve been protecting you from everyone,” he murmured, his fingers brushing your cheek with careful tenderness. “But they never knew who truly deserves to have you.”

You met his eyes—eyes that once felt warm but now seemed dark, dangerous. There was pain there… and an obsession he no longer tried to hide.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Rafael said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I just can’t let the world take you away from me.”

He stood up, exhaling slowly, running a hand through his messy black hair. “From tonight on, you don’t have to pretend to belong to anyone else.”

You belonged to him.

And for the first time, you realized—his protection had never truly meant freedom.