The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden stripes across the marble floor of Rafael's penthouse suite.
Aurora blinked into the light, her limbs tangled in the silk sheets that still smelled like him. Like sex and danger. Like heartbreak.
For a second, she reached beside her — only to find the space cold and empty.
He hadn't come back.
Her throat tightened.
Then she saw it — the envelope.
It sat neatly on the nightstand. Cream-colored. Heavy. Her name written in Rafael's ink-black scrawl.
Hands trembling, she reached for it.
Inside were two tickets.
One, clipped to a folded note marked:
"Milan. 10 a.m. Car will wait. Your father is there."
The other, identical in shape, but with no writing at all — just a key card taped to it.
His room. His bed. Him.
Her pulse roared in her ears. Her body remembered last night too well — the way he'd dropped to his knees for her, the way he'd whispered against her skin like she belonged to him.
And yet…
He had lied. Manipulated. Controlled.
She had to choose.
Except her body didn't want to wait.
She found him in the second lounge, shirtless, drinking espresso like he hadn't just ripped her soul out the night before.
"You left me those," she said, tossing the envelope onto the table.
His eyes flicked to it. "You've made your choice already."
"No. I haven't."
His gaze sharpened. "Then why are you here?"
Her answer wasn't in words.
She walked straight to him, climbed into his lap, and kissed him like her life depended on it. Teeth, tongue, desperation. Her hips ground down against his already hard cock beneath the loose cotton of his sweatpants.
"I hate that I want you," she breathed into his mouth.
"Good," he growled, flipping her onto the couch in one motion. "Because I'm going to fuck that hate right out of you."
He shoved her panties aside, already soaked, and thrust inside her without warning. She cried out, arching into him, the angle brutal and deep. He didn't go slow. He didn't ask. He took.
Just like always.
And she let him. Wanted him. Burned for him.
His hand wrapped around her throat as he pounded into her, hips snapping with possessive fury. Her legs wrapped around him, fingernails clawing at his back.
"I'll ruin you for every other man," he hissed in her ear.
"You already have."
Their moans filled the air. Sweat slicked their bodies. She came hard, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming, and he followed, slamming into her with a final, punishing thrust as he filled her.
They stayed like that. Breathing hard. His forehead pressed to hers.
Then Aurora whispered, "Do I still have to choose?"
Rafael pulled back, jaw tight.
"I made it easy for you," he said coldly. "One door leads to answers. The other to chains."
"And which one is you?"
He smirked bitterly. "You already know."