Everything between us has happened so fast, which makes it hard to believe this could really be it. I mean, I feel it in my bones, the rightness. But a lifetime of society teaching you tostand your ground and second-guess stuff just for the hell of it is hard to shake.
“What should I do, Mom?” I ask.
Of course, I don’t get an answer, though I do spot my old laptop. It takes forever to power on, and the second I’m in, I pull up my accounting spreadsheet.
I take my time looking at every number from all the invoices I’ve paid over the last year. The numbers on the screen blur as I rub my tired eyes. Even after all the chaos of the last week, the reality of the bakery’s struggles is staring me in the face. I can’t keep this place running on nostalgia alone.
And if I’m serious about a future with Rafe, why not?
Those thoughts keep running through my head right until the door chime rings. I don’t have to look up to know who it is. My pulse betrays me, quickening with anticipation.
“So which is it?” he rasps, pulling me against his hard body. “Good boy or good man?” His voice is smooth, confident, but there’s a rare playfulness there too.
I glance up, meeting his stormy gray eyes. He looks out of place here—his sharp suit and calculated presence against the worn-down walls and aging countertops. Yet, it feels less wrong than the last time he was here.
“I need to know if the money to redecorate would be a loan,” I say, turning my head to the side when he tries to capture my lips with his.
He shakes his head. “There will never be any loans between us, baby.”
“But what about the money Dad owes?”
“There was never a debt,” he admits.
The air leaves my lungs. “What?”
“I bought you from your father.” His voice is low, careful, but it still hits me like a freight train. “There was no loan, and no debt to be collected.”
A thousand emotions crash into me at once—rage, betrayal, disbelief. “You lied to me,” I whisper, shaking my head. “This whole time?—”
“I gave him the money because I knew he’d gamble it away.” His fingers flex at his sides. “Because I knew he’d sign your life away without a second thought. And because I wasn’t going to let him do it to someone else.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “So what? You decided to play the hero by making me your prisoner instead?”
His expression darkens, but there’s something raw in his eyes now. “I didn’t want to play anything, Alina. I wanted you.”
“Why?” I challenge.
“You know why.”
Silence stretches between us. His words, heavy and dangerous, settle in my chest like a weight I don’t know how to carry.
“Tell me,” I demand, taking a step back. “Or I won’t go back with you.”
With a grunt that sounds like a mix of a growl and a huff, he runs a hand down his face. “Because I love you, Alina. Because you’re mine.” Each word is measured and strong. There’s no wavering in his gaze; he really means what he’s saying.
I should be furious. And I am. But underneath it, beneath the betrayal and the tangled mess of our past, there’s a deep, aching truth I can’t ignore.
He loves me.
I swallow hard. “You don’t get to decide my future for me, Rafe.”
His lips press together, his hands clenching into fists. “I know.”
It’s not an apology. Not really. But it’s something. A crack in the armor. A moment of vulnerability from the man who always controls everything.
I step forward, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “If you want me, Rafe, then earn me. Not through money. Not through power. Just you.”
For the first time since we met, he looks… uncertain. As if I’ve thrown him off balance. It’s strangely satisfying. My heart pounds, it’s like the organ is pumping hope through my veins.
