I could deal with Salvatore, but the cost was unbearable. He wouldn't just come for me-he'd drag my sister into this mess. He'd make sure I paid in the cruelest way possible: by hurting the people I loved and cared about. He knew I would die for Christina. If he had managed to find me after all these years, then he knew exactly how to exploit my every weakness.

The thought of Christina in danger was a weight I couldn't shake, but she wasn't the only one I feared for. Gabrielle had grown dear to me, and Michael had defended me more times than I could count. They were innocent, and now, because of me, they were all in trouble.

Guilt was devouring me piece by piece, leaving me hollow. I barely registered my body moving to my room. I collapsed onto the bed and lay there, shutting out the world, the hours blending into one another.

Raffaele.

Even he wasn't safe. No matter how sharp his words had been when we first met, he was still my husband, and as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want anything to happen to him. This morning, I'd been reckless, letting my emotions get the better of me during that prank. It was foolish, but I had craved the release, the brief illusion of control.

I'd spent most of my life behind an impenetrable wall of emotional barriers. Letting anyone inside was unimaginable. Christina was the only one I had ever trusted enough to break down in front of. Telling her my story, reliving the painful memories I had buried, had been excruciating-but freeing. She had shared so much about her own struggles before being adopted, and in those moments, we had been vulnerable together.

Now, I was terrified of that vulnerability.

Could I let someone else in? Could I relive that pain again? Would they see me differently? I didn't know if I could bear to be seen as that fragile little girl again-the one hidden beneath layers of armor I'd spent years perfecting. I didn't even know how to live without those barriers.

To my surprise, Raffaele hadn't pushed. He had been persistent and overbearing before, but somehow, he seemed to understand this wasn't the time to force answers out of me. For that, I was grateful beyond words.

I spent the entire day in bed, lost in thought. I skipped both lunch and dinner; the mere idea of food made my stomach churn.

Sometime past midnight, the door creaked open. Raffaele stepped inside, his expression a mix of exhaustion and surprise.

"You're still awake," he noted, his voice low.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed heavily. "We've been searching for more information on Salvatore's whereabouts, but every lead turned into a dead end."

He pulled off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto a chair before heading into the washroom. The sound of the shower running filled the silence. Strangely, knowing he was here was comforting in a way I hadn't expected.

Minutes later, he emerged wearing only a pair of shorts, his hair damp, droplets tracing along his sculpted chest. The sight of him left me momentarily speechless. He looked like something out of a dream-my dream, to be exact.

Without a word, he slid into bed beside me, his movements deliberate but unhurried. I tracked every one of them, unsure of what to expect. Once he was fully settled, his hand shot out, gripping my waist and pulling me closer.

My breath hitched. Our faces were just inches apart, his intense gaze locking onto mine.

"All I could think about today," he murmured, his voice a soft, velvety whisper that sent shivers down my spine, "was the kiss you denied me before running off."

I blushed furiously, my thoughts betraying me. So I wasn't the only one replaying that moment over and over in my mind.

"And?" I asked, trying to sound innocent as I met his teasing smirk.

His eyes darkened with mischief as he leaned closer. "Are we going to pick up where we left off?" His hand traced lazy circles on my waist, sending warmth rushing through my entire body.

Feigning innocence, I tilted my head. "And what exactly are we supposed to pick up?"

His soft growl sent a thrill through me. Without warning, he pushed me back against the bed, climbing over me with his knees bracketing my hips. He paused, his gaze holding mine, silently seeking consent.

When I gave none, he didn't move. But when I showed no resistance, he leaned down, brushing his lips against my neck. The feather-light touch was electrifying, and I couldn't suppress the sound that escaped me-a sound that only made him smirk against my skin.

I wasn't going to let him have all the control. Threading my fingers through his hair, I tugged his face up to meet mine, and without hesitation, I pressed my lips to his.

It was my first kiss, and it was nothing short of heaven.

His hands slipped beneath my shirt, his touch gentle yet firm as they traced along my sides. I wrapped one arm around his neck while the other tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. Every barrier I had ever built felt like it was crumbling beneath his touch.

And for once, I didn't feel the need to stop it.