CHAPTER FIVE

Rafa’s POV

The room was silent except for the low hum of my men’s voices as we discussed the next shipment. My attention was half on the numbers, half on the irritation gnawing at me lately. Everything had felt off balance. I had been distracted restless. And I knew exactly why.

The door burst open with a slam that made every man at the table go rigid.

And there he stood.

My poison. My little obsession. The subject of my dreams, my stalker, my frustration, and the one person I couldn’t seem to shake no matter how I tried. His chest rose and fell sharply, his eyes wild. He looked furious, unhinged and yet delicious in his fury.

He stormed across the room, ignoring the guns immediately drawn on him, and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. His fingers fisted the expensive fabric, yanking me forward until we were nearly nose to nose.

“What the fuck have you done to me?” he shouted, voice raw with anger.

My men reacted instantly, guns aimed at his head, chairs screeching back as they prepared to shoot. But I lifted one hand lazily, keeping my gaze on him.

“Stand down,” I said softly. And when I say something softly, my men know it carries more weight than a roar.

They hesitated, but lowered their weapons, eyes flicking between us in confusion.

Meanwhile, I stared at him, at the fire in his eyes, at the trembling in his grip that wasn’t quite fear, wasn’t quite rage. He was shaking with something else.

Desire. Frustration. The same storm that haunted me.

I tilted my head, my voice calm, detached, as if his fury hadn’t just disrupted my meeting. “Tell me,” I murmured, “is there a reason you would dare to barge into my meeting like this and disrespect me in front of my men?”

For a second, I saw his eyes dart to the others in the room. His jaw tightened, and he let go of my shirt, though his stance remained defensive like a wolf cornered.

“Send them out,” he said flatly. “I have something important to say.”

I almost laughed. The audacity. He storms into my meeting, lays his hands on me, and then has the gall to give me orders.

“No,” I replied, voice ice cold. “Say whatever you came to say. Or get out.”

Fondness, lust, obsession whatever I felt for him, it didn’t mean I’d allow disrespect. Especially not here. My men’s respect was everything.

He glared, teeth clenched, body taut with tension. His silence stretched, and I could almost see the war raging in his head. Finally, he spat out:

“I can’t. It’s about your life.”

That gave me pause. My brow arched slowly. His concern is my life?

Amusing.

I leaned back in my chair, studying him, he is like a little lamb with venom in its bite.

“Out,” I said to my men, flicking my hand.

They hesitated, uneasy, but filed out one by one until only the two of us remained. The room felt instantly smaller, the air heavier.

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once before blurting: “Someone placed a hit on you.”

My smirk faded into stillness.

Interesting.

“Don’t ask me how I know,” he rushed on. “Hell, I don’t even know why I’m here. Maybe it’s your damn magic dick making me lose my reasoning.”

The corner of my mouth twitched. Even now, even angry, he couldn’t resist his sharp tongue.

He looked away, his voice dropping, rawer now. “Just… be careful. Or whatever.” He paused, and I noticed the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, softer, almost strangled: “I’m out.”

He turned toward the door. His last words weren’t casual they were ripped from him, reluctant, painful.

And that’s what gave him away.

He wanted to walk away. But he couldn’t.

I let my voice cut through the silence, low and dangerous: “Wait.”

He froze.

“Interesting,” I said, slowly rising to my feet. “You know about a contract on my life. Tell me how do I know you’re not the one sent to kill me?”

He turned, his glare sharp enough to wound. “Trust me, I would love to be the one to do it. But you can’t keep me here against my will.”

I let a smirk stretch across my lips. “Oh, I assure you,” I said silkily, “I can.”

I lifted a hand, signaling Kane, my right-hand man, who had remained lurking by the door. “Seize him.”

Kane stepped forward, shoulders broad, gaze unyielding. But my poison’s glare only burned hotter, lips curling back in a threat.

“If you touch me,” he hissed, his voice almost feral, “I’ll cut your hand off.”

Kane didn’t flinch. He’d heard threats before. He reached out anyway.

Steel flashed.

I didn’t even see where the knife came from one second his hands were empty, the next Kane was screaming, clutching his shoulder as blood stained his suit.

The room exploded into motion.

Men stormed in from the hall at the sound, but my little lamb fought like a devil unleashed. He spun, elbowing one man in the throat, ducked under another’s arms and slammed his head into the man’s jaw with a sickening crack. Someone grabbed his wrist, but he twisted, the knife glinting, forcing the man back.

He was fast, way too fast for someone his size, feral in a way most men never were. Every movement was precise, practiced. This wasn’t a man simply defending himself. This was a man who had fought before and he was a professional.

My chest tightened as I watched him, half-aroused, half-infuriated.

So this is what you’re hiding, hm, my little poison? Not so innocent after all.

It took five men to drag him down, pinning him to the floor. He thrashed and cursed, muscles straining, teeth bared like an animal.

And I just stood there.

Watching.

Smirking.

The sight of him wild, dangerous, snarling like that it was intoxicating. The room reeked of blood and tension, and all I could think was how alive he looked.

Finally, one of my men forced his arms behind his back, pressing a knee into his spine. He was breathing hard, sweat dampening his hair, eyes blazing as they lifted his head to face me.

I walked closer, my shoes clicking against the floor. Calm. Always calm.

I crouched down just enough to meet his eyes. “You fight beautifully,” I murmured. “But you should have known better than to come here unarmed against me princess.”

His lips curled, defiant even as he was restrained. “Unarmed?” he spat. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

I chuckled low, leaning closer until my breath brushed his ear. “Oh, I intend to find out.”

I straightened, brushing invisible dust from my jacket, then looked down at him with satisfaction.

Life had just gotten infinitely more entertaining.

And one thing was certain, this fiery little storm wasn’t leaving. Not now. Not ever.

He was mine.