Page 1 of Beloved
PROLOGUE
Rafaela, fifteen years old
Boom!
The floor beneath my feet vibrated, an intense rumble skimming across the landscape. I stood at the window, more frightened than I’d been in a long time from an act of Mother Nature. As night continued settling in, fueling the ominous atmosphere, my pulse raced while every inch of my body trembled in a nonsensical manner.
The sky had already turned to a bruised, ugly violet with clouds piling up into a black, angry anvil of menace. Lightning crisscrossed the sky, the vibrant blues blinding.
I pressed my hand against the glass, fighting the anxiety that had already left me feeling suffocated. With the wind whipping across the decorated landscape, chaos ensued, thunder bellowing its rage. Even though the house was built of stone and mortar, the violent storm shook the foundation.
The light in my room did nothing to abate my fears, the slight glow barely illuminating anything. Even the ugly shadows seemed larger than life.
I’d never felt so all alone in my life, cut off from anyone who cared. Yet I’d been told I was safe even as the rain lashed across the windows, thunderous sounds echoing in my ears. When a branch slapped against the glass, I bit my lip to keep from screaming while backing away.
Even with the bolts of lightning awakening the dead, shadows filled the area just outside my window, my wild imagination creating monsters in various shapes and sizes.
All bloodthirsty beasts with one thing on their mind.
Satisfying their hunger.
With another even more powerful rumble of thunder, I turned away from the window, folding my arms. A horrific chill continued to tear through every muscle and the second the branch slapped across the exterior of the house once again, I yelped and jumped back into bed. The ominous figures I’d created in my mind continued to crawl from the distant corners of my room, inching toward me.
This was ridiculous. I rolled over, determined to fall asleep, finally able to close my eyes.
Yet the storm raged on, my heartbeat matching that of a strange, new thumping sound. Like a metronome torturing a pianist. I envisioned smashing the small wooden box in my crazy mind and finally managed to take a deep breath.
Thump.
My head shot up, shifting so I could glare out the window. Was the tree threatening to give way, crashing into my bedroom? While the wind continued to howl, there was no sign of any major destruction.
Thump. Ting.
I snapped my head toward my bedroom door. The sound wasn’t coming from outside the house. Something or someone was inside.
Not usually prone to panic, I sat up in bed, pursing my lips shut to keep as quiet as possible. While the storm prevented me from catching every noise, I sensed someone was in the house. Someone who didn’t belong.
My parents slept in a different wing of the estate, each with their own personal space. My brother and I shared another wing, yet tonight I was alone, my parents at some glitzy event and God knew where my brother had gone. He was almost never home and when he was, he was a surly son of a bitch I preferred not to be around.
Thump. Thump.Crackle.
Glass breaking?
Why wasn’t the alarm going off? Why weren’t the guards rushing into the house?
I threw back the covers, slowly sliding my feet onto the floor. Terror skittered through me as I moved to the door, very carefully opening it a crack. There was a light downstairs just like before.
Then there wasn’t, the light downstairs and the one in my room flipping off. Whether from the storm or from an intruder, it didn’t really matter. What did was what I needed to do.
While the fear was crippling, my mind quickly shot to a place of reserve, hearing my father’s stern voice telling me how to handle a situation like this. I’d been trained how and when to hide, put through exercises simulating a kidnapping, which had seemed so pointless at the time.
Now I understood why my father had insisted on claiming my free time for practicing. My father had enemies. I was a mafia princess. I was worth my weight in gold.
And someone wanted a payout.
My throat was close to being shut from icy fingers squeezing my neck, but I walked through the steps I’d been taught. There was a special place I could hide in the house where no one would find me.
I was about to slip from my room when I sensed someone on the stairs. There was no way I could rush by whoever it was. They’d catch me. Then I’d be screwed.
