Raine - The Estate

The city disappears slowly, neon signs thin out, graffiti-covered storefronts vanish behind dark glass buildings and quiet streets lined with iron gates and trees wrapped in white fairy lights. Then even the traffic begins to disappear until the only sound left is the low growl of Leon’s SUV cutting through the rain.

I sit curled against the passenger door with my damp hoodie pulled tight around me, trying not to look at him. It doesn’t work. Every few seconds my eyes drag back anyway.

Leon drives one-handed, the other resting loosely against the center console, tattooed fingers flexing occasionally like violence still lives beneath his skin and hasn’t fully settled. The city lights sliding through the windshield paint shadows across the hard lines of his face, catching briefly against the black ink spread across his throat.

The moth looks darker at night. Its wings disappear beneath the collar of his shirt, and every time he swallows, the ink shifts with the movement.

I hate that I keep staring at his mouth, I hate that my body still remembers him dragging me into the SUV, the strength in his arms, the rough sound of his voice against my ear, the terrifying warmth that spread through me while he beat another man bloody for touching me.

Something is deeply wrong with me.

Rain streaks softly across the windows while silence sits heavily inside the car. Not awkward silence, controlled silence. Leon wears it comfortably, like he’s used to people sitting quietly around him.

I’m not. The silence inside the SUV presses against my skin anyway, thick enough to choke on. The city bleeding away behind us mile by mile. I’m wound so tight I can feel every shift of the leather seat beneath me, every breath he takes, every flick of those tattooed fingers resting near the console.

“You kidnapped me,” I say eventually, because the words have been clawing at my throat for the last ten minutes and I can’t hold them back anymore.

He doesn’t even look at me. His attention stays fixed on the dark road ahead, sharp profile lit gold whenever we pass beneath a streetlamp.

“You were being followed, again.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

One broad shoulder lifts beneath his black coat. “Sure it does.”

I turn fully toward him then, anger finally pushing through some of the fear. “How is dragging me into your car against my will supposed to make me feel safe?”

That finally gets his attention. He glances at me, and the look lands hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. His eyes are pale in the dark, cold and unreadable at first glance, but there’s something ugly underneath them tonight.

“I know you’re safer with me,” he says quietly.

The certainty in his voice settles low in my stomach and spreads heat through me before I can stop it. I turn sharply toward the window before he notices.

Too late.

“You blush every time you get scared, Bunny.” His voice drops rougher when he says the nickname, low enough to curl around my spine.

“I’m not blushing.”

A deep sound rumbles out of him then, amusement dragged through gravel and smoke. It’s the first time I’ve heard anything close to warmth from him, and it’s worse than any threat.

Heat flashes violently between my thighs, humiliation follows immediately after. I press my legs together harder and stare straight ahead. Beside me, Leon shifts slightly in his seat.

Just a small movement, but the interior of the SUV feels too small to breathe inside.

“You keep looking at me like you want something,” he murmurs.

I whip my head toward him. “I absolutely do not.”

His mouth curves slowly at the corner, cruel enough to make my pulse jump.

“Liar.”

The single word slides through the dark interior of the SUV, a phantom hand down bare skin. He already knows every filthy thought trying to hide behind my ribs.

I can’t stop staring at his hands. The ink curling over his knuckles. The veins beneath olive skin. The sheer size of them, those hands had wrapped around another man’s throat less than twenty minutes ago.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he says.

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re wet for me.”

The filthy bluntness of it hits me so hard I suck in a sharp breath, my entire face burns.

Leon’s smile deepens slightly when he sees it.

“Cute.”

“I hate you.”

“No, Bunny.” His voice turns softer. “But you’re trying very hard to.”

Massive black gates start opening ahead of us and the estate rises out of the darkness slowly, headlights sweeping over towering stone walls wrapped in ivy blackened by rain. Massive windows glow gold against the storm, warm light spilling across perfectly manicured grounds that stretch endlessly into the night. Armed security stand beneath covered walkways, shadows with guns tucked beneath tailored coats, while fountains glitter beneath marble statues that probably cost more than everything I’ve ever owned combined.

It doesn’t look like a home, it looks like the kind of place where powerful men bury bodies beneath, a fortress dressed up as luxury.

The gates begin closing behind us with slow mechanical finality, somewhere deep in my chest, panic unfurls sharp little claws, because men like Leon don’t bring women here temporarily. They keep them.

The SUV glides slowly up the curved driveway while I stare through the windshield in numb disbelief, rainwater sliding in silver ribbons across the glass. Every inch of the property looks untouched by the outside world.

Nothing here feels warm. Beautiful, yes, but warmth doesn’t live here.

“You live here?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

Leon barely glances away from the road as he guides the SUV beneath a massive covered entrance framed by stone pillars.

“Unfortunately.”

Huh. I turn to stare at him properly then, trying to understand how a man sitting inside what probably costs more than an entire apartment building can sound genuinely irritated about it.

The engine hasn’t even stopped running before the front doors swing open and people emerge. They move with the sharp efficiency of people trained to react the second Leon Marcello arrives anywhere.

A woman in a sleek black dress steps forward holding an umbrella before rain can touch him. Two men in dark tailored suits position themselves silently near the entrance, eyes scanning the driveway, hands hidden beneath their jackets where guns almost definitely sit.

Somewhere deeper inside the estate, a dog barks.

Leon kills the engine and steps out first. Rain pours over him instantly, streaking across broad shoulders and dark hair while he circles the front of the SUV toward my side. He moves through the storm, black coat hanging open, tattoos flashing briefly beneath the lights whenever lightning flickers across the sky.

I should lock the door, I should scramble across the seat and run before this gets any worse. Instead I sit there frozen, heart hammering painfully against my ribs while Leon opens the passenger door himself.

Cold rain-scented air rushes in as he looks down at me for one long silent moment before holding out his hand.

“Out.”

My hand slides into his before my brain catches up and his fingers close around mine. The grip tightens slightly as he helps me from the car, steadying me against the slick pavement. The woman with the umbrella steps closer, shielding Leon first before the rain can soak his suit completely.

Her expression flicks from shock, to judgement, to just a little disgust as he takes me in. I’m used to it, so she gets no reaction from me.Leon notices too.

His gaze slides lazily toward the woman while rain drips from the ends of his dark hair.

“Say whatever stupid thing just entered your head and I’ll fire you,” he says calmly.

The woman recovers quickly, lowering her eyes.

“Welcome home, sir.”