Page 124 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
My chest dropped so hard it felt like something inside me had been pulled downward without warning.
“So I didn’t just marry the richest man in Barcelona,” I said slowly, each word controlled only by effort. “I married a killer. A drug lord. An arms trafficker. A man who discusses torture in hotel basements like it’s part of a business report.”
Rafael’s voice dropped lower,
“It’s not my fault you’re only finding out now.”
My breath stuttered. “Do you know my father? Did you two work together? Are you just like him?”
His fingers tightened at my waist—not painful, but unmistakably deliberate. A warning without violence.
“I am nothing like your father.” He said quietly.
Then, after a beat:
“Now move. This location is no longer secure.”
I stayed planted, though I couldn’t see him, couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t anchor myself in anything except the sound of my own heartbeat hammering in my ears. “Do you know him? Did you ever do business with that monster?”
The air between us tightened—so sharply I felt it like pressure against my skin.
Then Rafael exhaled, “It’s time to leave, Loretta.”
“That is not an answer.” My voice cracked at the edges, anger and fear tangling together.
I turned slightly toward where I thought he stood, useless blind instinct guiding me. “Don’t do that. Don’t decide what I can or cannot handle. Just tell me the truth.”
“Walk,” he said quietly.
I jerked his hand from my waist. “I can walk on my own.”
“I know.” A pause. “But not safely in your current state of mind.”
That made something inside me flare again, but I moved anyway.
I hated how vulnerable blindness made distance feel like a trap.
He suddenly placed a hand over my chest, stopping me before I could move again.
“You would’ve taken another injury if you’d taken one more step.”
His grip shifted back to my waist. “Walk, Loretta.”
I swallowed my anger and went along this time, though it stayed simmering as he steered me toward the elevator.
The soft chime of the private lift arrived too quickly.
Metal doors slid open with a whisper, and he guided me inside first, his palm never leaving me.
Even when we stood side by side in the enclosed space, he didn’t let go.
The elevator descended in smooth silence, and I became painfully aware of everything.
When the doors opened into the underground garage, the world changed again.
He guided me forward.
“Rafael,” I tried again, sharper now. “Don’t ignore me.”
