Alle Kapitel von Screwed Into Forever [Forbidden Collection]: Kapitel 231 – Kapitel 240

The next lead took them across the city after midnight, to a private club that didn’t advertise and didn’t ask questions if you knew the right name at the door. Rafael gave it. The doorman stepped aside without looking at Elena twice.Inside, the air was thick with low music and the scent of expensive liquor. Dim lighting carved shadows across leather booths and mirrored walls. Rafael kept a hand at the small of her back as they moved through the crowd—not possessive, exactly. Guiding. Claiming space so no one else could.“The man we’re looking for is named Voss,” he said near her ear. “He brokered the meeting your brother was trying to set up. If anyone knows where Daniel went after the warehouse contact died, it’s him.”Elena nodded, pulse already elevated. Being this close to Rafael in public felt different from the office or the warehouse. More exposed. More deliberate.They found Voss in a back booth, two bodyguards standing loose nearby

Dawn came gray and wet. Rain slicked the streets as Rafael drove them north toward the industrial edge of the city, where the buildings thinned and the river cut a dark line toward the border. Elena sat in the passenger seat with Daniel’s notebook open on her lap, the circled address burned into her mind.Neither of them had slept much. The safe house still clung to her skin—the cold counter, the way Rafael had filled her, the quiet afterward that had felt more dangerous than the sex itself.Rafael’s hand rested on the gearshift. Every so often his fingers brushed her knee, a brief point of contact that kept her grounded and restless at the same time.“The contact’s name is Soren,” he said, eyes on the road. “He moves people for the right price and the right leverage. He doesn’t like surprises. Let me do the talking.”Elena closed the notebook. “And if he doesn’t talk?”“He will.”The certainty in Rafael’s voice should

The secondary site sat farther out than Elena expected—an abandoned processing plant on the far side of the industrial corridor, its silhouette jagged against the rain-heavy sky. Chain-link fencing sagged in places. A single access road led in, rutted and half-flooded. Rafael killed the headlights a quarter-mile out and coasted the rest of the way on memory.“This place has been quiet for years,” he said. “Soren uses it when everything else is burned. If your brother was moved, this is the logical next hole.”Elena said nothing. The doubt from the car still sat in her chest like a second heartbeat. She watched Rafael’s profile in the dark and tried to decide which version of him she was sitting beside—the man who had held her through fear, or the one who kept choosing what she was allowed to know.They left the car under the cover of a collapsed loading canopy. Rain sheeted off the broken roof in thick curtains. Rafael checked the perimeter first

Morning arrived thin and pale. The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the streets washed clean and the air sharp with the smell of wet asphalt. Elena woke alone in the narrow bed, the sheets still carrying Rafael’s heat. For a moment the quiet felt like abandonment. Then she heard his voice in the front room, low and precise, speaking to someone on a phone. She dressed and walked out. Rafael stood near the window, phone to his ear, posture tight. When he saw her he ended the call without goodbye. “It’s done,” he said. “The last of the people hunting your brother were taken out an hour ago. Coordinated. Clean. Daniel is moving to a secure location now. He’ll make contact with you directly within the next twelve hours.” Elena’s knees went weak. She gripped the edge of the table. “He’s safe.” “Yes.” The single word carried the weight of every night since the first one—the warehouses, the blood, the half-truths, the way Rafael had kept her close while the pieces

He didn’t answer with words. He just pulled out of her, slow enough that she felt every inch leave, and stood.Elena stayed on her back, wrists free now, pulse still thick between her legs. The wet heat of him was already cooling on her inner thighs. She watched him move through the dim room—efficient, unhurried. He opened the closet again. Another robe. This one he stripped of its belt with a single sharp tug. The terry cloth was thicker than the first. He folded it once, tested the give between both hands, then came back to the bed.“Sit up.”She did. The mattress dipped under his knee as he climbed on. He took her wrists again, not roughly, but with the same certainty as before, and bound them in front of her this time. Tighter. The soft fabric bit just enough to remind her it was there every time she shifted. He left a short lead, then guided her hands up and over his shoulder so the belt rested against the back of his neck. The position forced her chest against his.“Hold on,” he