Page 54 of Disciplined: His Forbidden Crush

“Did Rafael take advantage of the situation to humiliate you as a man?” Garcia asked, the threat in his voice unmistakable.

Summer hesitated, memories of being restrained, dominated, and touched flooding his mind. He knew he could show none of it in his face so he forced himself to remain calm. “No. Rafael didn’t do anything like that.”

“Perhaps prison taught him bad habits,” Garcia insisted. His eyes bored into Summer’s, searching for the truth. The intensity of his father’s gaze made it difficult for Summer to maintain eye contact, but he knew better than to look away. “You know what I’m asking, Verano. Don’t make me shame us both by saying it out loud.”

Summer’s gut went cold as he realized what his father thought: that Rafael had forced himself on Summer, violating him in the most humiliating way possible.

“Rafael didn’t...he didn’t do anything like that,” Summer stammered out, trying to quell the panic rising in him. He couldn’t let his father think that Rafael had raped him. It simply wasn’t true.

“Look me in the eye and swear it,” Garcia demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Swear to me, Summer, that Rafael never forced you to…” But he trailed off, his reluctance to put the act into words stopping them in his throat.

“He never did!” Summer insisted, his eyed burning with tears. “It wasn’t rape.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew what he’d done. His heart felt like it might burst from his chest as the implications of his confession sank in, and the walls closed in around him.

Garcia stared at his son, a mix of anger and disbelief written on his face. “Verano,” he growled, his fury simmering beneath the surface, “what are you saying?”

Summer’s mind raced, trying to find a way to salvage the situation. The cold fury in his father’s eyes was unmistakable, and Summer knew he had just made a grave mistake. “Papá, I...I misspoke,” he stammered, desperate to undo the damage he had caused. “I didn’t mean that, I—”

“Enough!” Garcia roared, slamming his fist down on the desk, causing the various objects on it to clatter. “Do not insult my intelligence!”

Summer cringed at the intensity of his father’s anger, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He could feel the weight of Garcia’s gaze, heavy with disappointment and rage.

“Please, Papá,” Summer whispered, his voice trembling. “Rafael only did what you ordered him to do.”

Garcia sneered, his lip curling with contempt. “Ordered him to do? I ordered him to bring you home. For that, I wanted to reward him. But for this,” and Summer cringed from the fury in his father’s voice, “I will kill him.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rafael wiped the sweat from his brow as he watched the men loading crates. The sun blazed down on him, heating up the tarmac beneath his feet and making him feel like he was being baked in an oven. So lost in his task, he barely noticed the approaching footsteps until two of Garcia’s guards grabbed him roughly by the arms.

“Hey! The fuck do you want?” Rafael snarled in indignation. His heart began to race as they dragged him towards Garcia’s office, concern clawing at his insides. What had he done that warranted such treatment?

The guards threw him inside with no regard for his well-being, and Rafael stumbled, catching himself before he fell. He looked up to find Summer standing tearfully in front of Garcia, pleading with his father to calm down. Garcia’s face was red with fury, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of his desk. A shattered glass lay scattered in pieces against the wall, glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the heavy curtains. It seemed Garcia’s anger had reached a boiling point.

Rafael’s gut chilled with horror as it dawned on him that Garcia must know about L.A.—about what had happened between him and Summer. He could see the rage in the older man’s eyes, could almost taste the coming violence in the air. He forced himself to take a deep breath, deliberately calming himself in preparation for what was about to happen.

Garcia would kill him for this. There was no room to argue, no chance of mercy beyond a quick death. So he wouldn’t beg. He steeled himself to face his death with dignity.

“Please, father, just listen to me,” Summer begged, his voice strained with emotion. “It’s not what you think.”

“Silence!” Garcia roared, cutting off any further attempt at explanation. He turned his burning gaze onto Rafael. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice low and deadly. “Did you dare to touch my son?”

Rafael’s chest was tight as a drum. He wished he could deny it, but lying would only make things worse.

Garcia’s sudden movement towards Rafael was like a predator lunging at its prey. His eyes blazed with fury, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The air in the room seemed to vibrate with tension, making it difficult for Rafael to breathe.

“Answer me, hijueputa,” Garcia snarled. “Did you fuck my son?”

The words sliced through Rafael like a knife, and he suddenly felt as if he were floating outside his own body, watching the scene unfold from a distance. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, threatening to break free from his ribcage.

Death is coming for me. This is it.

Drawing on every ounce of courage he possessed, Rafael lifted his chin defiantly and met Garcia’s enraged gaze. “You said I had free rein to do whatever it took to tame Summer,” he replied, his voice surprisingly steady despite the fear coursing through his veins. “I was only following your orders.”

He braced himself for what was to come, mentally preparing to face his end with dignity—no matter how painful or violent it might be.

Garcia’s face twisted into a snarl as he howled in rage. In one swift motion, he yanked his pistol from his shoulder holster and pressed it against Rafael’s chest, the cold metal searing against his skin. Rafael’s heart felt like it was going to burst, but he maintained his veneer of calm, refusing to let Garcia see him falter.

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