Rafael

The night had fallen like a blanket of uncertainty. I had been careless-something I hadn't allowed myself to be in a long time. It happened so quickly, the gunfire, the chaos. A hit. A near-miss.

I remember the moment vividly-one second, everything was clear, and the next, pain exploded through my side. The bullet had grazed me, but that wasn't what rattled me. It was the thought of Camille. The thought that I could lose her, that I might not get the chance to tell her how I truly felt. The thought that maybe, just maybe, I hadn't done enough to prove to her that I needed her more than I had ever needed anything in my life.

As I stumbled out of the warehouse, clutching my side, all I could think about was Camille. I knew I had been distant with her lately-she could feel it, I could see it in her eyes every time she looked at me. I pushed her away, even when all I wanted was to pull her closer.

But I couldn't afford to let anyone in. Not completely. Not since... since the night I lost everything.

A part of me wanted to believe I could protect her from my world, that I could shelter her from the violence and danger, but it wasn't possible. Not when I was the one dragging her into the fire.

Camille had been pulling away. I noticed it every time she hesitated before speaking to me, the way she seemed to shrink back, her eyes no longer meeting mine with the same warmth. I couldn't blame her. My actions, my silence-they were driving her away.

It was all my fault.

I had tried to keep her safe, to shield her from the darkness that haunted me. But in doing so, I had only built a wall between us, a wall that Camille had begun to climb. And now, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop her from walking away.

I had to admit it-admit the truth that I had been hiding from myself. I was scared. Scared of loving her. Scared of being loved. My past was a prison, and I had been too afraid to let her see the real me. The man who was incapable of giving her the kind of love she deserved.

I never spoke about the night my father died, the day the mafia took everything from me. I had learned to shut out the pain, bury it so deep that I forgot how to feel anything but rage. But in that moment, lying on the cold concrete, bleeding out, I realized I had been running from the wrong thing.

It wasn't her love I was afraid of-it was my own inability to let myself love her back.

I stumbled into her house, trying to mask the pain, but the blood soaked through, staining my clothes. The moment she saw me, the panic in her eyes was immediate. It made everything sharper, the pain, the confusion, the overwhelming need to pull her into my world, but I couldn't. I couldn't let her in.

"Rafael!" Camille rushed toward me, her hands immediately moving to inspect the wound. "You're hurt. This is-this is bad. Let me help."

I tried to push her away. "It's nothing. Don't worry."

But she wasn't having it. Camille always had this way of cutting through the bullshit, of making me face the truth, even when I didn't want to. She pulled me down onto the couch, her hands working swiftly but carefully to remove the bloody fabric from my wound. The sharp sting from the movement made me grit my teeth, but it was nothing compared to the tenderness in her touch as she leaned over me, her fingers trembling just slightly.

"Hold still," she whispered, her face inches from mine as she tried to assess the injury.

I was hyper-aware of every movement she made, every breath she took. It felt like the entire room was holding its breath as she worked. Her hands were gentle, professional, but there was something in the way she moved-something that spoke of care. And I didn't know how to handle it.

"Let me see," she murmured, taking the bandages and pressing them against my side to stop the bleeding. Her eyes focused entirely on the wound, but I could see the worry in her gaze, the way her brow furrowed as she worked, her mind analyzing every step.

When the pressure became too much, I flinched, but Camille didn't pull away. Instead, she looked up at me, her eyes soft but full of concern. "I know it hurts. But I need you to hang in there, okay? Just a little longer."

I nodded, trying not to let the weakness I felt show. I had always been the one in control, the one who was never vulnerable, never needed anyone. But with Camille, everything felt different. She made me want to break down every wall, to let her in, to let her see me for who I really was-not the man I pretended to be, but the one who needed her.

She worked quietly, methodically, cleaning the wound and applying pressure. It was like she was stitching my soul back together with each careful motion. The way she moved, the softness in her voice, it all made me want to stay there forever-hidden away from the world, with her taking care of me.

"You're going to be fine," she whispered, her fingers brushing against my skin in a touch that sent a shiver down my spine. "I've got you."

I wanted to tell her how much I needed her, how terrified I was of losing her, but the words wouldn't come. I was too afraid, too broken, to ask for what I wanted. Instead, I just lay there, watching her work, letting her take care of me in a way no one ever had.

When she finished, Camille sat back, her hand resting lightly on my chest as she checked my pulse. She looked at me then, her gaze searching mine, trying to find the answers that I couldn't give her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice strained. "I didn't mean to put you through this. I've been pushing you away... but I need you to understand something."

"What?" she asked, her voice tight with emotion, but it wasn't fear anymore. It was something deeper. Something that felt like hope.

"I'm afraid," I admitted, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "I'm afraid of losing you, Sunshine. Of letting you in completely and having you torn apart by the mess I've made of my life."

She blinked, her hand stilling on my chest. "Rafael, you don't have to be afraid. I'm not going anywhere."

The promise in her words-so simple, so pure-left me breathless. How could she still say that after everything? How could she trust me when all I'd done was shut her out?

I let out a shaky breath, trying to push past the pain, trying to focus on her, on the softness of her touch, the warmth she radiated. "I don't want to hurt you," I murmured, my voice hoarse with emotion.

"You're not hurting me," she said, her voice steady now. "I'm here, Rafael. I want to be here. No matter what."

I reached for her, my hand trembling slightly as I cupped her cheek, needing the comfort of her closeness, of her presence. "Camille..." I whispered her name, as if saying it could make it real. As if holding her could fix everything.

But she wasn't looking at me with the same warmth anymore. There was something in her eyes, something I couldn't quite read. A flicker of hesitation.

I closed my eyes, feeling her presence grounding me, but when I opened them again, I saw the same hesitation that had been growing between us for days now. The space she was creating. The emotional distance I couldn't seem to close.

"You're pulling away," I said softly, my voice cracking as I took her hand in mine. "Why are you pulling away from me, Sunshine?"

She shook her head, her expression unreadable for a moment. "I'm not pulling away... I just- I don't know if I can keep doing this, Rafael. You're so... distant. I feel like I'm trying to reach you, and you keep pushing me back."

My chest tightened. I hadn't meant to hurt her, but my walls had been up for so long, they were all I knew. I wasn't used to anyone getting close. I wasn't used to someone caring this much. And the more I let her in, the more I was afraid of losing her.

"I don't know how to let you in, Sunshine. I've never known how. This world... it's not a place for someone like you. And I can't bear to see you get hurt because of me."

I could feel her eyes on me, soft and patient, but there was a quiet sadness there too.

"You can't keep me out, Rafael. I'm already here," she whispered, her words carrying a weight I hadn't expected.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at her. "I'm afraid... I've never known how to be with someone like you. Someone so... pure. Someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in my mess. But all I've done is push you away when I should have been holding you close."

She stood up, her voice strained as she spoke. "I don't want your world, Rafael. But I want you. And you're not letting me in. You're not letting me help you. I can't do this alone."

The words cut deep, and I realized, for the first time, that I wasn't just pushing her away-I was pushing myself away from the one thing I'd been craving for so long. Love. Connection. Someone to fight for.

"Camille," I started, my voice shaky, the words heavy in my chest. There was no turning back now. She deserved to know the truth, even if it shattered her. "You want to know why I push you away? Why I keep myself so distant, so unreachable?" I swallowed, my throat tight, my whole body aching with the weight of it. I could barely meet her eyes; I could hardly bear to see the pity, the concern, the sympathy in them. "It's because of him."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and for a moment, all I could do was watch her face shift from worry to complete uncertainty. "Who?"

"The man you saved in that night at the hospital," I spat out, my words sharp and bitter, as though I could taste the poison that still lingered in my mouth. "You had no idea who he was, did you?"

Camille's eyes softened, but the concern in them only deepened. She took a step closer, her voice trembling. "What are you talking about, Rafael?"

I felt my breath catch in my chest as the memories crashed in, uninvited, relentless. My voice cracked as I spoke. "I knew him. That's the thing. I knew him. He wasn't just some random guy you pulled out of the gutter. He was a man I trusted with my life." I felt a raw ache in my chest as I continued, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "He was an informant. For the government. He was supposed to have my back, Camille. He was my guy-the one who would never turn on me. But the minute his own skin was in danger, he sold me out. He fed my operation to the feds. He put my men in danger. He destroyed everything I had built, everything I fought for. Everything I sacrificed for. All of it-gone, in a single moment of betrayal."

I stopped, the words hanging in the air like a noose, tightening around my throat. My hands were shaking now, the memories flooding back-too many faces, too many wrongs. I breathed heavily, but the air felt like it was slipping away from me. "I thought he was my friend," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I thought I could trust him, Camille... But he betrayed me. He did it just like my father did."

Her eyes widened, the shock in them making my heart ache with regret. She took a cautious step forward. "Your father?" she asked, her voice soft but heavy with confusion.

I nodded, my chest tightening further. I couldn't escape the weight of it. "He was the same, Camille. My father... he was the same. He sold me out too. Sold me out for power. Everything he had, everything he built, he sacrificed it all... for nothing. For a piece of power, for control. The man I trusted, the man I looked up to, the one I thought would always be there, he turned on me. He left me alone. When I needed him most... he turned his back and walked away. And I-I lost him, Camille. I lost him because of that betrayal."

The pain of it hit me like a fist to the chest, and for the first time, I let myself feel the depth of it. The emptiness of being abandoned by the one man who should have protected me, who should have been my guide. Instead, he was the reason everything I built came crashing down. It was too much. Too much to carry.

I inhaled sharply, trying to steady myself. The memories of my father's death, of how he had died a coward, still burned like acid in my veins. "My father's death... it wasn't just a loss. It was betrayal. He was supposed to protect me. He was supposed to stand by me, but instead, he sold me out just like that man did. He made me pay for trusting him."

I could see Camille's face soften, her brow furrowing in pain as she tried to understand. But the ache in my chest was deep, too deep for words. I looked away, as if the world could swallow me whole and take all the memories with it. "I never wanted to be like him," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I thought I was different. But now..." I trailed off, the weight of it all pressing down, suffocating me. "I built these walls, Camille. I built them so that I wouldn't be hurt the way I was when he died. I thought if I just stayed far enough away from people, I wouldn't have to feel the same pain again. I wouldn't have to feel like everything I cared about could just disappear in an instant."

Camille reached for my hand, her touch gentle but persistent. "Rafael," she whispered, her voice breaking the dam of silence that had settled over us. "You're not your father. You're not him. You don't have to push everyone away just because of what happened."

I pulled my hand away, unable to let her get too close. The sting of her touch, the warmth of it, felt like a threat. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to trust her. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her the way I had lost everything else in my life.

"I'm not like him," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "But... I don't know how to be anything else. I don't know how to change. I don't know how to let someone in without watching them disappear. I don't know how to stop being the monster I've become."

I looked at her then, my eyes desperate, my soul raw and exposed. "I killed him, Camille. The man you saved... I ended him. He betrayed me the same way my father did. And every time I think about it, I feel the same emptiness, the same darkness swallowing me whole. I'm scared that if I let you in, you'll be the next one I lose. I can't lose you too. Not like this."

For a long moment, Camille said nothing. Her eyes held mine, searching, understanding. She stepped closer, her hands reaching out, her fingers brushing against my cheek with a tenderness I didn't know how to accept. But I let her. I couldn't pull away. Not now.

"I don't want you to push me away," she said softly. "I want to be here, Rafael. I want to stay. I'm not asking for your past. I'm asking for you. I'm asking for the man standing in front of me now, not the walls you've built around yourself."

I closed my eyes, the tears threatening to fall, but I couldn't let her see me like this. "I don't know how to be what you want me to be."

She pressed her forehead to mine, her voice low but unwavering. "You don't have to be anything but real. I just want you to let me in."

The weight of her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time in years, I wanted to let someone in. But I wasn't sure I was ready for the storm that would come with it.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm scared, Camille," I whispered, barely able to breathe. "I'm scared of what I'll become if you stay. But I'm even more scared of losing you."

Her hands cupped my face, and I saw no fear in her eyes. Only a quiet, steady certainty that we could survive this, together.

"I'm not going anywhere, Rafael. I'm right here."

And for the first time in so long, I believed her.

*************

Thank you so much for reading the first part of the book, it means a lot for me !❤️ Hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave any constructive criticism about the book, it will be appreciated as well. See you in the second part !!