Page 72 of Of Oaths and Secrets

He studies me, his dark eyes softening as he brushes a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. His fingers stay there, and for a moment, the world outside of this room disappears. It’s just us—our bodies intertwined, our breaths syncing in the quiet aftermath.

“I don’t want to move,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sincerity, his forehead resting against mine.

“Then don’t,” I reply, my hand reaching up to cup his cheek, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. I can feel the subtle shift in him, the way his body relaxes into mine, as if, for the first time, he’s allowing himself to just be here with me—fully, without reservation.

We stay like that for a long moment, lost in each other, until he eventually shifts us, rolling onto his side and pulling me into his arms. His embrace is firm but gentle, and I find myself cocooned against his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. His hand rests on the small of my back, fingers splayed possessively, protectively.

As I close my eyes, I feel a deep sense of contentment settling over me—a quiet, reassuring warmth that seeps into my bones.This is what I’ve been afraid of, what I’ve been running from… but now, lying here in his arms, it feels right. It feels like home.

He presses a soft kiss to my temple, and I can’t help but smile.

"Thank you," he whispers, the vulnerability in his voice catching me off guard.

"For what?" I ask, my words slurred with exhaustion as I curl closer to him, the lingering heat of our lovemaking still thrumming through my veins.

"For trusting me,” he says softly, his lips brushing against my hair. “For this. For… everything."

I don’t respond, but I don’t need to. The warmth spreading in my chest, the sense of safety, the undeniable pull between us—all of it speaks louder than words. There’s something more between us now, something deep and unspoken. And even though neither of us is ready to say the word out loud, I can feel it hovering there, in the space between our heartbeats.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Always."

And as I drift off to sleep in his arms, a part of me knows—despite all my fears, despite the walls I’ve built around my heart—I'm falling for him. Maybe I already have.

Chapter Eighteen

Rafaele

Iwake up with Nora peacefully asleep in my arms, her soft breaths tickling my chest. I’ve never felt anything like this. The quiet contentment, the overwhelming sense of… rightness. It’s almost suffocating but in the best way possible. My body is relaxed, every muscle melted into the mattress, but my mind is racing, trying to process what the hell just happened to me last night.

She’s beautiful like this—vulnerable, soft, and completely unaware of the storm she’s left behind in me. Her hair is splayed across the pillow, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted as she breathes. Her eyelashes fan out over her skin, casting delicate shadows, and I can’t help but stare. I find myself counting the freckles that dot her nose and cheeks, tiny imperfections that only make her more perfect. My eyes drift lower to the little mole on the ball of her shoulder, and I feel an overwhelming urge to lean down and kiss it.

God, I don’t want to move. I don’t want to wake her, to disturb this rare moment of peace. But at the same time, I want to wake her. I want to kiss her awake, to feel her body againstmine again, to lose myself in her all over again. The need is there—strong, primal, and growing by the second.

This was my first time. I know she doesn’t realize that. How could she? I’m a man used to taking control, and I’ve done my fair share of playing the role. But this? This was different. This was everything. It wasn’t just the way she touched me, though her hands seemed to know exactly where to go as if she could read my every unspoken need. It wasn’t just the way she looked at me, either, like I wasn’t the ruthless man the world believed me to be, but someone softer—someone worthy of her trust.

It was the way she made me feel like I didn’t have to pretend, like I could be stripped bare in every way, and she’d still want me. That’s why I felt confident—not because I knew what I was doing, but because I knew, with her, I couldn’t fail. It was like every nerve in my body was alive for the first time, and I know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that she’s the only woman I could ever feel this with. The only one I’d ever want like this.

I brush a thumb over her shoulder, tracing the mole, careful not to wake her. I need to accept that she’s my weakness. I fought it for so long—trying to tell myself that love was dangerous, that caring for someone would only make them a target. And yes, she’s a weakness, but she’s also my strength. She gives me something to fight for, something worth protecting.

But it’s more than that. She’s burrowed her way so deep inside me, I know leaving her side will always be impossible now. Even when I should, when work comes first, it’ll be difficult. Like now—lying here, knowing I need to get up, need to deal with the never-ending bullshit of the family business, but all I want to do is stay. Stay here, with her, where everything else fades away.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of that realization settle over me. It’s dangerous, what I’m feeling. It goes against everything I’ve ever believed, everything I’ve ever trained myselfto avoid. But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop wanting her.Needingher. And maybe… maybe I don’t want to anymore.

I press a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the soft, sweet scent of her hair. She stirs slightly, a small murmur escaping her lips as she shifts closer to me, her body instinctively seeking mine even in sleep.

And I know, right then, that no matter what happens, no matter how hard it gets, I’ll always come back to her.

“Sleep, amore,” I whisper, the words thick with emotion. With all the willpower I can muster, I slip out of bed, leaving her warmth behind. I pull on my pants and throw her one last lingering look before quietly leaving the room.

As I step into the corridor, I find Fate glaring up at me, her small eyes narrowed as if she’s silently judging me for taking her place beside Nora. I can’t help but chuckle. She’s small but feisty—reminding me so much of Nora. All light and sweetness, but with a soul as fierce as a warrior.

“I’d like to say I’m sorry for kicking you out of your room,” I murmur, crouching down to meet Fate’s gaze, “but I’m not.”

She huffs, glancing at the bedroom door.

“You’ll have to learn to share, little one, because that woman in there?” I grin. “She’s mine.”

Fate taps her paws against the floor, giving me another disapproving look.

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