Raf
The steady tick of the clock. The distant hum of the city beyond the window. Everything in Alexander’s office feels removed, like Raf is watching herself from across the room.
“It’s like one wrong ruling, one more dirty move from Ethan’s lawyers, and I lose everything. My home, my stability… even my kids.”
Her voice wavers, then steadies. “I spent years building a life I thought was mine. Turns out it wasn’t much more than scaffolding, and Ethan was always waiting for the right moment to knock it down.”
She lets out a bitter laugh, dabbing the corner of one eye. “And the worst part? I don’t even know who I am without it. Without being his wife. If that’s gone, then what’s left?”
Alexander leans back, eyes fixed on her. Finally, he speaks: “That’s exactly how he wants you to feel, Raf. Men like Ethan? Control is their currency. They want you to question your own footing. And maybe… you’re not as untouchable as you’d like to believe.”
“I thought I was strong. But now… I’m not so sure.” She lets the breath go, meets his eyes. A trace of a smile. “I met someone.”
“Go on.”
“It’s… complicated. I don’t even know if I should let myself go there. But for the first time, I feel like there might be something real… outside all this chaos.”
“And that scares you.”
“Terrifies me.”
“Because it means letting someone in. And letting someone in means surrendering control. Something you’ve never been comfortable with.”
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Raf nods, but her eyes don’t quite meet his.
“Never.”
“You’ve always taken pride in your independence,” he says, his voice dipping slightly. “Where did that come from? Were you ever allowed to rely on someone—really rely—without a catch? Was love always conditional?”
“I learned early it was easier to handle things myself. I think it has a lot to do with my sister.”
“Sister?” Something flickers behind his eyes, gone before she can place it.
“We’re… estranged. I hated her for leaving. I leaned on her a lot when I was a kid. Maybe too much. And when she left, I had to figure it out alone. And I did. I stopped needing her. Stopped needing anyone. If I was going to fall apart, fine, but it’d be on my terms.”
“And that’s why Ethan’s power rattles you. It’s not just the dirty tactics. It’s the powerlessness. People who think they’re in control rarely notice when it starts to slip. That’s the danger.”
“Danger?”
“People will sense your fear, Raf.”
She squints, trying to read him. “Fear? Of what?”
But Alexander’s gaze flicks to the clock. “I’m sorry. Looks like our time is up.”
It’s so un-fucking-fair.
She’s only just begun to escape Ethan’s grip, and now she’s supposed to suspect every suitor, every friend, like any one of them could be her next captor?
There’s too much joy in the world to live like that. The thought stays with her through the courtyard, all the way to Shane’s front door.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, swinging it open. “Wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”
Raf smiles, her gaze sweeping the apartment—scuffed hardwood floors, the casual sprawl of a life lived with zero thought to design. A mess, she thinks. But a beautiful one. The kind you could fix.
“You weren’t kidding about the bachelor pad,” she says, walking deeper into the open living space, past a crinkled leather couch and a too-large TV hogging the wall. “There’s potential, at least.”
Shane props himself casually against an orange wooden barstool. “That designer-speak for ‘this place is a disaster?’”
“Not a disaster,” Raf says. “Just… underachieving.” She joins him at the island, eyes re-sweeping the room. “Great kitchen. Nice appliances.”
“See? Not a total lost cause.”
“But maybe it’s time for something better.” She tosses him a playful glance. “This space deserves it. So do you.”
“Guess we’ll figure it out. I trust you.”
“Dangerous thing, Shane. Trusting a designer? You could wake up to floral wallpaper.”
“I’ll risk it,” he says, holding her gaze, like he’s testing something. “Worst case, I finally embrace my floral era.”