Rafe Cameron Movies 소설 & 이야기

"See that woman over there? In the red dress with the dark hair? That's Emilia Torres, his fiancée." "Emilia," I repeat under my breath. To him, I say, "Is she famous, too?" She certainly has the looks for it - and something about the way she carries herself seems to suggest an easy sort of confidence. Rafe chuckles again. "Yes, quite famous these days. She stars alongside Luca in the Cataclysm: Earth movies. Have you heard of those?" There's an amused gleam in his eyes - similar to what I saw in Luca's face, but it's more subdued in Rafe. He's obviously enjoying my inexperience, but unlike his brother, Rafe's pleasure is more restrained.

I remember thinking, on the drive over, that I would feel sorry for him. Then I saw him. Rafael Belmont at twenty-seven was the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing I'd ever stood in front of. He wore his grief like armor, his face blank, his posture controlled, nothing escaping through the cracks. But the moment his eyes met mine across the room, something happened that I still couldn't name. The world went very quiet. Just for a second.

If I have another, I'll never hear the end of it from Roxie. As I wait for the drinks, someone else comes up to the bar. When I look up, I find it's Luca's next youngest brother, Raphael - or Rafe, as his family usually calls him. Rafe is pretty darn different from his older brothers. While Dante and Luca are opposites in terms of temperament, they're both polished when it comes to their public personas. Rafe, on the other hand, is the black sheep of the family. With his shaved head and tattoos, he looks more like he belongs in a motorcycle gang than in Hollywood's royal family. And he's definitely forging his own career path - though he's done some acting like everyone else in his family, h

Ryker asked, his mouth practically hanging open. "Experience," I said shortly. "Penn? What the fuck are you doing in here?" Rafe said as he passed through my bedroom doorway. He shook his head. "Never mind. Don't care." He nudged his older brother out of the way. Squatted down next to me. "Let's see those gams, Will." I chuckled. My Rafe was a sucker for film noir. I lifted the sheet away from my legs. He sucked in a noisy breath through his nose. "Shit sticks and cuttlefish, Will."

Coffee went cold. I returned to our house despite the restrictions. The place still carried the scent of lemon and spice. I moved quickly. Clothes. Documents. Essentials. I didn’t look at anything long enough to feel it. Cole drove us to Rafe’s apartment after that. It hadn’t been lived in for three months. Not since Rafe was admitted to the hospital. He’s twenty-two. Still hasn’t found his mate. He used to joke about being unlucky. Now he’s bedridden. Two days before the trial, I go to see him.

The rooftop falls quiet again, but now it feels different, calm and intentional. Rafe nudges the case with his boot. “Do you want me to leave the feed open?” “Yes.” “And if he activates the camera again?” My jaw tightens. “Then he’ll see exactly what I allow him to see. I want him to believe he's still tracking her.” A slow grin spreads across Rafe’s face. “Damn, man! You’re insane.” “I know.” He straightens up and picks up the case. "For what it’s worth," he says nonchalantly, "this might just be the most entertaining thing you've dragged me into. I've already booked my ticket. Front row seat to whatever chaos you're about to unleash."

Ryan’s face relaxes slightly as he exhales through his nose. Rafa really does have a talent for sweet-talking. No—manipulating. Is this how he got to Ruth? His lips part to speak, as he hesitates—or at least acts like he does. “Alright…” he trails off. “I accept.” He murmurs like it costs him to say it. Rafa smiles broadly. “Delete the video right now.” “I will. In fact, you can watch me do it,” he says as he takes out the burner phone in his pocket. “Do the same. Delete everything you have against us,” he says, raising up his phone to show Ryan the screen.

Rafael stood at my window, his cloak soaked from rain and blood on his collar. “Gods are you hurt?” I rushed toward him. “Not mine,” he murmured, wiping his cheek. “Camden’s wolves ambushed us at the ridge. We drove them back.” I reached for him instinctively, placing a hand on his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my palm. “You could’ve died.” “I didn’t.” “But you could have.” His hand wrapped around mine, pressing it tighter against his chest. “I came back.” I looked up, heart pounding. “Why?”

His head of security, his closest confidant, and the only man who knew exactly how deep Damien had fallen into the quicksand of his forbidden affair with Elias. Rafe looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes matching the grim set of his jaw. He didn't ask permission. He walked straight over to the mahogany desk, tossed a heavily encrypted tactical tablet onto the blotter, and leaned down, his eyes scanning the ancient photograph Damien was trying to hide beneath his palm. "You look like you've seen a ghost," Rafe said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that cut through the sterile hum of the server stack.