Page 125 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
No response.
We reached the car. The door opened, and the leather scent hit me immediately.
He helped me inside without ceremony, and then the door shut, sealing me into silence.
The engine came alive with a deep, smooth growl.
I turned my head toward him, uselessly trying to orient myself in the dark world I lived in. “So you know my father, right?”
Still nothing.
The car began to move, tires humming over concrete.
“Rafael,” I pressed harder, voice tightening. “Answer me. You know him, don’t you? You’re just like—”
“I am not like your father.”
The interruption was immediate.
My breath caught.
He continued, slower now, each word deliberate. “And I will never be. But yes... our worlds have crossed. That is all you need to know for now.”
“That’s not enough,” I whispered. My hands curled tightly in my lap until my nails pressed into my palms. “You expect me to just sit here and accept that?”
The car slowed at a turn. I felt his hand leave the wheel briefly—and then, unexpectedly, settle on my knee. Not lingering, not claiming.
The contact made my body freeze.
I couldn’t decide if it was grounding or another kind of cage.
“Fine. I know your father,” Rafael said suddenly, voice breaking the careful control like glass under pressure.
“I knew that bastard since I was child,” he continued, and now the restraint was gone. “Since before I understood what kind of world I was born into.”
My throat tightened.
I stayed still, listening, because there was something in his voice I had never heard before.
Not power. Not control.
Wound.
“When I was thirteen, he had my father and mother hanged. In public... on a remote island off Italy.” Rafael said
The words landed too heavy to fully process at first.
I swallowed hard. “What...?”
“I was forced to watch,” he said flatly. “Thirteen years old, Loretta. They dragged me out of school while I was still in my uniform. I remember screaming. I remember thinking it was a mistake. That my parents would come back.”
His breath hitched once.
Then steadied again.
“They didn’t take me to a courtroom. They didn’t take me to a prison. They took me straight to that island. So I could see it.”
My hands trembled in my lap.
