Raphael slowly stepped toward Grace, his movements steady as ever, but noticeably slower than usual. What was he hesitating for?
As the distance between them shrank, Grace kept her eyes on his, searching for any sign of emotion—but all she saw was a deep, impenetrable calm. Until he was close enough for her to catch it—a flicker, barely there, and then a sudden crease between his brows.
“You’ve been crying?” His voice cut through the silence, tight, almost strained.
Raphael's been so focused on holding himself together, suppressing every emotion boiling inside, that he hadn’t noticed it until now. Grace’s eyes were red, a faint shimmer clinging to her lashes. His chest tightened at the sight—he’d never seen her look so fragile.
The meal, which started off a bit stiff, gradually loosened up. Even the usually serious Raphael found himself smiling more often. Eventually, Gavin and Raphael slipped into a discussion about business financing—until Grace shot them both a sharp look, clearly warning them not to talk shop.With business off the table, Gavin wasn’t sure what else to talk to Raphael about. Thankfully, Max stepped in to steer the conversation. He asked Grace about the details of her wedding, hoping to get some inspiration for theirs.The wedding had been nearly two years ago, and most of it was a blur to Grace now. She only vaguely remembered it taking place at a private estate on the Côte d'Azur, with the whole venue locked down. The guest list was filled with t
Grace drifted in and out of sleep, unsure how long she’d been out. Someone was gently tapping her shoulder, murmuring something close to her ear. She waved her hand lazily and mumbled, “Don’t wake me… I’m so tired.”A low, amused chuckle followed, and she felt a soft kiss land on her cheek. That familiar voice again, warm and teasing, “Didn’t you have lunch plans at twelve?”Lunch? She tugged the blanket over her head. “Not hungry.”A few seconds passed before her brain finally clicked into gear. She sat up abruptly, eyes darting around the room. Oh right—she was still in Berlin. And today she was supposed to have lunch with Gavin and his fiancé.She let out a breath, feeling a
The staff came to clear away the dishes, and Raphael asked the driver to bring his luggage up from the car. He showered in the other bathroom, returned, and still, Grace hadn’t come out.As he passed the bathroom door, he could hear faint rustling inside. Once he was sure she was fine, he picked up his tablet to review the key points from the afternoon meeting. Just three pages, but back in the car, his mind hadn’t taken in a word. Now was the time to catch up.Fifteen minutes later, he was done.Click. The door opened.Raphael lowered his gaze, sipping his chilled white wine, but no sign of her appeared. He set the glass down and walked over. Grace was still in the bathroom, the door ajar. H
Grace sat there, right in his lap, dazed but not trying to get away. Her back rested against his chest, and she could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart.Raphael leaned in close, his warm breath brushing her ear. He reached for the crème brûlée, pulling it toward them. As he moved, his cheek brushed her hair, grazing her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.She suddenly felt like she was curled up next to a resting lion—calm for now, but radiating heat, coiled strength just beneath the surface.He could snap at any moment, yet here he was, wrapped around her, doing exactly as she asked. She wanted him to feed her, and without a word, he dipped the silver spoon into the dessert, cracking the caramel layer, scooping up a bite, and brought it to her lips.
Grace fell into his arms without warning. His body was warm, carrying that clean, crisp scent she had come to know. His hand pressed gently against her back, wrapping around her waist, holding her tight—like he wanted to melt her into him.She didn’t resist. There was something about the way he held her, the flood of security it brought, though her heart was thudding so fast it might burst.“What’s with you all of a sudden?” she asked, breathless.Raphael didn’t answer right away. He tilted his head slightly, his hand sliding up to the nape of her neck—firm, but gentle—before pressing a kiss to her temple.It was a kiss filled with tenderness, with care, with something almost cautious.
Under the dim glow of the lights, Raphael’s eyes were faintly bloodshot, but gave away nothing. His voice was calm, almost detached. “Sorry, just a bit tired from work.”Work? Really? Grace frowned inwardly. There was something off in the way he looked at her just now... she couldn’t quite place it, but it didn’t feel like the same man who’d called her this morning.The soft scent of roses still lingered between them, reminding her—he had come to find her, brought her flowers, and made the effort. She could at least try to be a considerate wife for once.“Alright,” she relented, “why don’t you rest a bit? I’ll run up and change, then we can go eat.”Raphael’s dark eyes