around, she stumbled out of the room. Out of his mansion. Out of his life.
Where she’d never truly been.
Crumpled on a bed in some hotel, Ellie lay like something broken and discarded, the storm of misery buffeting her.
She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Rafael he’d destroyed her. He’d crushed something inside her. Her belief in her judgment, which balanced her, which she depended on to guide her through life. He’d done so once before only to heal it, then boost it to no end. Now he’d crushed it again, irrevocably this time, along with everything beautiful and hopeful inside her.
Just hours ago she’d been on top of the world, secure in the love of the man she adored, pregnant with his baby, and a couple of weeks away from marrying him. Now everything lay in ruins at the bottom of the hollow shell she’d become.
Everything had been a lie.
But how had she ever believed it had been real? The more she thought back, the more she remembered how he’d made her give him every detail of her father’s work, the clearer it became that she’d always been a means to an end to him. And this made sense. That she’d been just an instrument to him. How had she ever believed a man like him could love her like she loved him? Hadn’t she already known that he was too much for her?
Then the avalanche began again.
Every second from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, every memory, so brutal in clarity, so heartrending in beauty, blasted holes in her heart. The cascade strengthened with every snippet of remembrance, decimating her self-worth, submerging her in humiliation. Every word she’d uttered, admiring and believing in him; every glance that hungered for him and adored him; every liberty she’d begged him to take with her body, with her being; every surrender and trust she’d bestowed on him, certain he’d treasure it.
The damage would only spread, deepen, until there was nothing left of her but ashes. And it had all been for nothing. She’d been nothing to him. Worse than nothing. She’d been the knife he’d been honing to stab her father with.
She could only be thankful he’d broken that knife before he had a chance to use it.
Suddenly, she bolted upright before slumping back, faint with the hours of soul-tearing weeping...and with true terror.
For her father.
Rafael was too powerful, could be—was—ruthless. Whether he wielded her as a weapon or not, there was no stopping him.
If only she could find out the reason for Rafael’s enmity, she might find a way out. But she’d seen it in his eyes. He was never telling her why.
There was only one other possible source of info.
* * *
“Are you sure it’s only a stomach bug?”
That was the fifth time her father had asked her that question inside five minutes. That had been the one thing she could think of to explain how horrible she looked.
Ellie nodded. “The worst of it is over.”
Her reassurance did nothing to allay his anxiety. After her mother had complained of what they’d thought digestive troubles, which had turned out to be terminal cancer, her father had been a full-blown, worst-case-scenario worrywart. All her life, he’d been obsessed with her health.
“Daddy, please answer me.”
She’d asked if he’d ever committed any serious indiscretion. He’d thought she was asking because she didn’t believe untimely decisions were the only reason for the trouble his business was in. He really had no clue Rafael was after him or why he would be. At least this reassured her she wouldn’t discover she didn’t know her father, either.
Her father sagged down beside her on the couch, his unseeing eyes scanning the expansive living room, which was furnished in warm earth colors and had perfect panoramic views of the Atlantic.
He’d given this villa to her mother as a wedding present. She’d been the one to decorate it, and he hadn’t changed a thing since. He’d been loath to come back for years after her death. Now it seemed it was where he found his only comfort.
“I’m sorry I never worked up the nerve to tell you, Ellie. I didn’t want to lose your respect.”
Heart pounding painfully, she squeezed his hand. “I’ll never love you any less, Daddy. Just tell me.”
A ragged exhalation. “After those losses hit me hard, I did some tax evasion to compensate, and everything got twisted out of all proportions. Now it’s gone from bad to worse and I might declare bankruptcy soon.” He dropped his head in his palms. “Oh, my little darling, I’m so sorry, but I have to confess something else. I was actually feeling desperate enough to ask Rafael for help. I know you don’t want to ever mix your marriage with business, but I was thinking it would be child’s play for Rafael to solve all my problems.”
While tax evasion was bad, it didn’t warrant Rafael’s cold-blooded plan of revenge. She didn’t believe her father could do anything to warrant it. But this was clearly a dead end.
Rising to her feet, she bent to kiss him. “Next time, promise you’ll tell me everything so I can help before things snowball into a huge mess, okay?”
After her father promised, and she reassured him that they’d see this through, he saw her to the door, totally oblivious to the danger he was in and the devastation in Ellie’s life.
Back at the hotel, she fell into bed, her mind churning as exhaustion dragged her under into tumultuous darkness.
She had to seek Rafael again. It was all in his hands. Everything was.
Her world, her being...her destruction.
Rafael. Always Rafael...
* * *
Warm power rejuvenated her drained body; delicious fire roamed her aching flesh. Sighing softly, she drove deeper into the solace, a moan of longing on her lips.
“Rafael...”
“Si, meu amor, si...I’m here, I’m yours.”
The pledge felt like a resurrection, after the death her spirit had suffered.
Her eyes fluttered open. The phantasm had Rafael’s face, his body, his hunger...and it—he...
He was really here!
Suddenly drowning, her body violently lurched against his, as if kicking up to a surface that didn’t exit.
“Don’t push me away, meu alma...”
And they overtook her, every agony and bitterness and desperation, burning from her depths and gushing from her lips on racking, uncontrollable heaves.
Lost in the tumult,
