Chapter 3 - The Man Who Ordered the Shooting
Wren did not sleep.
At 2:07 a.m., she heard a vehicle enter the courtyard.
At 2:15, Rafael walked past her door.
Wren opened it.
“Rafael.”
He stopped.
His sleeves were rolled to the elbows.
Dark tattoos covered part of his forearms.
There was a small cut near his mouth.
“What happened?”
“Go back to bed.”
“Did you kill him?”
His expression remained unreadable.
“You don’t want answers to questions like that.”
“I live in your house.”
“Temporarily.”
“You moved me here.”
“Because you’re safer here.”
“Then tell me what I’m supposed to be safe from.”
Rafael stared at her for several seconds.
Finally, he walked into the sitting room.
Wren followed slowly.
“His name is Paul Kessler,” Rafael said. “He drove the SUV.”
“Who hired him?”
“He claims Marchetti.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“I believe people say whatever keeps them breathing.”
Wren lowered herself carefully into a chair.
“Did he know five bullets hit me?”
Rafael’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were irrelevant.”
Something changed in Rafael’s face.
Wren noticed it.
“That made you angry.”
“He tried to kill my mother.”
“But I’m asking what made you angry.”
Rafael looked away.
“Go to bed, Wren.”
She studied him.
“Why did you stay at the hospital every night?”
He did not answer.
“You have fifty employees who could’ve watched me.”
Silence.
“Why you?”
“Because when I closed my eyes, I saw you on that floor.”
Wren stopped breathing for a moment.
Rafael stepped closer.
“I saw your blood on my hands. I heard you trying to breathe. And every time I left that room, I wondered if somebody would call and tell me you were gone.”
“Rafael—”
“I know what people say about me.”
“I don’t care what people say.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because men like me do not get to keep good things.”
Wren’s voice softened.
“Am I a good thing?”
His gaze fell to her mouth.
“Yes.”
The room became very quiet.
Then Wren whispered, “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“What are you hiding?”
She looked down.
The truth clawed upward.
Before she could speak, a phone rang.
Rafael answered.
“Yeah.”
His face changed.
“When?”
Pause.
“Secure the entire building.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“Your brother.”
Wren shot upright.
“Toby?”
“Someone tried to enter Ridgeline using fake credentials.”
Her blood went cold.
“Why would anyone go after Toby?”
“Because Marchetti knows your name.”
“Because I saved your mother.”
“Yes.”
Wren nearly laughed from the cruelty of it.
The thing she had never intentionally done had now placed Toby in danger.
“Take me there.”
“No.”
“Rafael—”
“No.”
“That’s my brother!”
“And you can’t protect him.”
“Neither can you from here.”
“I already moved him.”
Wren froze.
“What?”
“Thirty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
“Private rehabilitation clinic under Contini security.”
“You moved my brother without asking me?”
“I kept your brother alive without asking you.”
She stared at him.
Then slapped him.
The sound echoed through the room.
Rafael did not move.
Wren’s hand trembled.
“You don’t get to control my life because I was shot.”
His voice was quiet.
“If control is what keeps you breathing, I’ll live with you hating me.”
“I hate that answer.”
“I know.”
She turned away.
He caught her elbow gently.
“Wren.”
“Don’t.”
“Toby is safe.”
She faced him.
“You swear?”
“On my mother.”
Her anger cracked.
Rafael steadied her.
“I’m sorry.”
“For moving him?”
“No.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
“At least you’re consistent.”
His thumb brushed her wrist.
For one dangerous second, neither moved.
Then Wren whispered, “I need to tell you what happened in the sunroom.”
Rafael’s phone rang again.
He ignored it.
“Tell me.”
She opened her mouth.
A blast shook the estate.
Windows rattled.
Security alarms screamed.
Rafael grabbed Wren and pulled her against him.
“Down.”
Guards rushed through the hall.
“What was that?” Wren gasped.
“Front gate.”
“Rafael—”
He looked toward the corridor.
Then back at her.
His voice changed into command.
“Lock this room.”
“Don’t go.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Rafael stared at her.
Another distant explosion sounded.
Wren gripped his sleeve.
“Please.”
For the first time, the feared Rafael Contini looked torn.
Then he cupped her face.
“I’m coming back.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.”
He pressed a fast kiss to her forehead.
May you like
Then disappeared into the hall.
---
