I felt Raphael’s gaze before I truly saw him.
One step. That was all it took to break the spell I was desperately maintaining. The danger wasn’t loud—not yet. But I knew him. Knew that simring fury behind the calm exterior. Raphael was a bomb waiting to go off. And I had to act fast if I wanted to keep this room from becoming ground zero.
I had seconds.
Because if I didn’t act now, he would.
And knowing Raphael... blood might spill before dessert.
So I knocked over my glass.
The crystal clattered dramatically against the table, sending a splash of wine across the white tablecloth and Jas’s shirt. He let out a startled curse, flinching back as if I’d thrown a knife instead.
"Oh my God!" I gasped, standing up fast, hand over my mouth. "I’m so sorry—I didn’t an to—"
The waiter rushed over imdiately, panic in his eyes. "Madam, are you alright? Sir, please allow us to—"
Jas stood too, now fussing with a silk napkin. "It’s fine, it’s fine, just—damn, this was imported."
Of course it was.
But I played the role of the flustered girl to perfection. "This is so embarrassing. I—I need a mont."
My father was halfway to rising, confused but trying to salvage face. "Selene, what’s going on?"
"Father," I said sweetly, standing up suddenly. My chair scraped loudly against the floor. "I just realized this place isn’t the safest. There was a little fire code violation here last month, and I heard sothing about an unresolved gas leak—"
Charles blinked. "What? That’s nonsense—"
"Oh no, it’s fine, really. But perhaps we should go sowhere quieter to talk. Sowhere less... combustible." I looked at Jas with a saccharine smile. "You don’t mind, do you? I think I’ll feel more comfortable elsewhere."
Jas raised a brow, amused. "Of course not. I’d hate for you to combust."
Idiot.
I leaned toward my father, whispering just loud enough for him to catch the urgency beneath my act. "Let Jas drive us to that place? You know the one I an."
Charles squinted, then his eyes lit with sothing nostalgic. "Oh... yes. That place. You’re sure?"
"Completely. I have sothing important to tell both of you."
Charles, sensing opportunity, nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, of course. That’s a splendid idea."
I sent one last glance toward the far wall.
Gone.
Raphael had vanished like smoke.
My heart thudded against my ribs. I prayed he wouldn’t follow. But it was Raphael. Of course he would.
*****
Jas opened the door to his sleek obsidian Aston Martin and flashed a grin as he gestured for to enter. "After you, princess."
I slid into the passenger seat, biting back the bile rising in my throat. Charles settled in the back with an unearned air of victory.
The car ride was quiet. Jas turned on so llow jazz, clearly trying to project a calm, mature image. He slled like citrus cologne and ambition.
I didn’t bother to speak, conserving my energy for whatever trap they planned next—or whatever Raphael planned, depending on who got to who first.
Charles sat in the back, humming to himself. Probably already daydreaming about a mansion funded by Cartwright blood money.
"You didn’t tell you were nostalgic," Jas said as we turned onto the winding road leading to the edge of the city.
"There are a lot of things you don’t know about ," I murmured.
"Yet," he added, smiling.
The garden was a secluded oasis, a hidden gem from my childhood where my mother and I once spent countless afternoons.
Nestled behind the estate, it was encased by towering hedges that shielded it from prying eyes. The air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and roses, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly turned soil.
A stone pathway, worn smooth by years of footsteps, andered through vibrant flower beds bursting with color—deep reds, bright yellows, and soft purples. In the center stood a weathered wooden bench, its paint peeling, a silent testant to the passage of ti.
The gentle hum of bees and the distant chirping of birds created a serene symphony.
As we stepped into this sanctuary, mories flooded back—my mother’s laughter, her gentle touch as she guided my hands to plant seeds, the warmth of the sun on our faces. This was our haven, a place untouched by my father’s cold ambitions and the dark undercurrents of our family’s dealings.
Jas followed closely, his polished shoes crunching against the gravel. He paused, taking in the surroundings with a raised eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and disdain. The sunlight filtering through the leaves dappled his tailored suit, highlighting the tension in his posture.
"This is it?" he asked, his voice laced with disappointnt. "I expected sothing... more."
I turned to face him, masking my irritation with a serene smile. "This place holds sentintal value," I replied softly, my fingers brushing against the petals of a nearby rose. "It’s where I feel safe."
He chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "Safe? In a garden that looks like it’s straight out of a children’s storybook?" His gaze swept over the vibrant flora, dismissing it with a curl of his lip.
My father, ever the observer, stepped forward, placing a hand on Jas’s shoulder. "Now, now, Jas," he chided gently. "If this is where Selene feels comfortable, then we should respect that." His eyes t mine, a silent warning flickering in their depths.
I nodded in appreciation, though my mind was elsewhere, calculating my next move. The garden’s tranquility was deceptive; beneath its beauty lay the perfect stage for the delicate ga I was about to play.
Taking a seat on the old bench, I gestured for them to join . Jas hesitated before lowering himself onto the bench, his discomfort evident.
Sorry, but we couldn’t have so fancy chair in such a place.
"I hope this isn’t lower than your standard?" I pried further with a ruse smile.
He gave an eye shut smile and responded with a "It’s lovely!"
My father remained standing, his presence looming over us.
"So," Jas began, attempting to mask his unease with a charming smile, "what’s this important matter you wanted to discuss?"
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