My eyes snap open, but I'm greeted by a suffocating darkness, a swirling confusion that makes no sense. My body feels weightless, as if I'm being tossed around like a rag doll. It's then that the horrifying realization hits me—I am.

The car is tumbling, a sickening dance of metal and glass. Everything is spinning, my mind struggling to catch up with the chaos that surrounds me. A scream claws at my throat, but the sheer terror freezes it in place, rendering me mute. The world outside the window is a dizzying blur of shadows and lights, flipping over and over as the car rolls, each rotation more violent than the last. My head slams against something hard, sending white-hot pain shooting through my skull, a searing agony that threatens to consume me.

Then, with a bone-rattling crash that echoes through my very being, the car comes to a halt, its twisted metal frame settling into an eerie stillness. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing and the distant ringing in my ears, a haunting symphony of the aftermath. I blink rapidly, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the fog in my mind won't clear, a stubborn haze that clings to my thoughts.

Something smells wrong—sharp, acrid, and suffocating. Smoke.

I glance around frantically, my eyes wide with growing panic, and see flames licking up the dashboard, their orange tendrils reaching out hungrily. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and my chest tightens as I understand the severity of our situation. The car is on fire, and we're trapped inside this metal coffin.

"Rafael," I gasp, turning to my right, desperate for reassurance, for a lifeline in this nightmare. My heart lurches when I see him struggling, his hands yanking at his seatbelt with a frenzied urgency. His face is a mask of focus, his brow furrowed in concentration, but I can see the tension in the set of his jaw, the strain in his movements as he fights against the unyielding restraint.

"Rafael!" I cry out again, my voice trembling, thick with the fear that consumes me. He doesn't look at me, doesn't waste a single precious second. With a final, forceful tug, he frees himself from the seatbelt's grasp, but as he does, the car shifts, its precarious balance disrupted. It tilts dangerously, the metal groaning under the strain, a sinister warning of what's to come. My breath catches in my throat, fear gripping me tight, its icy fingers curling around my heart.

He turns to me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that cuts through my panic like a beacon in the darkness. "Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice steady and firm despite the chaos that threatens to engulf us.

There's no time for hesitation, no time to second-guess or doubt. "Yes," I breathe, the word escaping my lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for salvation.

Without another word, he moves quickly, his actions precise and purposeful. He unfastens my seatbelt with one swift motion, freeing me from its confines. The car lurches again, a violent shudder that sends my heart racing, and I grab onto him instinctively, my fingers digging into his strong arms, seeking solace in his presence.

"Hold on to me," Rafael orders, his voice a low, urgent growl that reverberates through my bones. I cling to him, my body molding to his as he carefully maneuvers us out of the tilted car, navigating the treacherous path to safety. The heat is getting worse, the smoke thicker, burning my lungs with every labored breath, a suffocating blanket that threatens to steal the air from my chest.

As we edge toward the shattered window, its jagged edges glinting in the flickering light of the flames, I see movement up front—Julio, already outside, his hand reaching in to help. Rafael pushes me toward him, his strong hands guiding me forward, and I scramble through the opening, Julio's firm grip pulling me to safety.

Rafael follows close behind, his movements swift and agile, just as the flames roar louder, their hungry tongues consuming the car we've just escaped, devouring the metal and plastic with a relentless fury. I collapse onto the ground, gasping for air, my lungs burning with each desperate inhale. The world spins around me, a dizzying kaleidoscope of shadows and light, but one thought pierces through the haze—we're out. We're safe. But what the fuck just happened? One minute, I'm falling asleep in Rafael's arms on the Ferris wheel, lulled by the gentle rocking and the warmth of his embrace. The next, we're struggling to escape a burning car, fighting for our lives.

My thoughts are interrupted as Rafael lifts me to my feet, his strong hands gripping my arms, steadying me in the midst of the chaos. His eyes run over my body, assessing, searching for any sign of injury, and then they pause at my head, his gaze intense and focused. That's when I feel it—the pain, the warm liquid dripping down my face, a crimson trail that stains my skin.

"Does it hurt?" he asks through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving the wound, his concern palpable in the tension that radiates from his body.

I lift my hand to touch it, curious, wanting to assess the damage myself, but he slaps it away, his touch firm yet gentle. "A little," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. With all the blood rushing to my ears right now, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I can barely feel much pain except for the persistent throbbing in my head, a dull ache that refuses to subside.

"We will have it checked at home," he says, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for argument. He grabs my hand, his fingers and walks us over to Julio, who is on the phone with someone, barking orders in rapid-fire Spanish, his words laced with urgency and anger.

"I want everything he owns in his pathetic life burnt to the ground and no fucking mistakes this time!" Rafael commands Julio, his body shaking with barely contained fury, a living embodiment of rage and vengeance.

Then, without warning, he's pulling me in front of him, pushing me to the ground, my knees scraping against the hard, unforgiving road. I wince, the pain sharp and biting, but it's nothing compared to the terror that grips my heart as he pulls out a gun, its sleek metal glinting in the moonlight, and points it between my eyes, the barrel a dark abyss that threatens to swallow me whole.

It's then that I understand what's going on, the pieces falling into place with a sickening clarity. Thomas must have sent someone to ambush us on the way home, and now Rafael wants to kill me for it, to punish me for the sins of another. Oh my God!

"Please," I stammer, my voice trembling, my body shaking from fear as he stares at me, his face stoic, hinting at nothing, a mask of cold indifference. He moves his hand to his pocket, and I close my eyes, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach, bracing myself for the inevitable, for the final moments of my life.

Then, a second later, I feel a flash against my face, a bright light that penetrates the darkness behind my eyelids. I pull my eyes open, blinking against the sudden illumination, to see Rafael with his phone to his ear, his expression hard and unreadable.

Even though he didn't shoot me, his next words don't ease my dread one bit. Instead, they send a chill down my spine, a fear that settles deep in my bones.

"Next time, I won't hesitate. It will be a picture of her fucking eyes closed forever," he says, his voice cold and merciless, before cutting the call a second later, the finality of his words hanging heavy in the air between us.

I stare at him, shocked to my core, my mind reeling from his words, from the callousness with which he threatened my life. In between my legs, I can still feel his cum, and yet here he is, threatening my life as if he wasn't inside me mere minutes before.

"Let's go," he says, grabbing me by the arm, his grip firm and unyielding as he lifts me off the ground and pulls me into him, his body solid and unyielding against mine. "Wipe that look off your face, Blondie. The only reason I would ever put a bullet in your head would be because you're no longer mine, which..." he moves closer, his breath fanning my face, his words a whispered promise, "right now, you are."

If it's even possible, I am more confused than ever, my mind struggling to make sense of his words and the implications behind them. What does that mean?

I'm not given time to process my thoughts, to unravel the tangled web of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me, as a car pulls up in front of us, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the moonlight.

Rafael walks us over to it, his hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward, and puts me in the back seat before walking over and taking his seat beside me. Before the car starts, Julio joins us in the front, his face a mask of grim determination, and a second later, the car is speeding down the road, carrying us back home.

The whole time, as the city lights blur past the window, I try to make sense of what just happened, to understand what this means for me, for my place in Rafael's world. Because deep down, I have a feeling that nothing will ever be the same again.