Page 23 of The Senator: Raphael

“Now do you understand why I can’t do what you’re asking me?”

“No.” A half-smile curves his lips.

“Are you dumb or high?” I ask, making him chuckle. “Did you not hear what I just told you?”

He turns his body toward me, giving me his full attention. He exudes power, confidence, and I find myself wanting to hear what he has to say.

“Your face is already out there. Your name will be soon. I got your name, number, and address from the prick you work for. How do you plan to disappear?”

I swear I want to kill Ice. I knew he was a bastard, but I hoped at least he could keep his mouth shut about my personal information.

“I’m getting a fake ID made. I already have a fake name. My parents weren’t crazy enough to name me Silver Argent.”

He smiles and nods. “Okay. How do you plan to find a job, withdraw your money from a bank, or just rent a house or a car with a fake ID? Do you have enough cash to pay without a credit card or something? What about background checks for basically anything? Are you ready to live like an outlaw? Because that’s exactly how you’ll have to live.”

I don’t know what to say because I didn’t plan that far ahead, but he’s right. I lower my head and lock my gaze on my hands in my lap.

“I thought so,” he adds.

“I don’t know, okay? I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” I snap, bringing my eyes to his.

He’s determined and I can almost see his brain running a thousand miles an hour. Like he already has the solution in his back pocket. “Or you can accept my offer and let me deal with the rest. I can protect you and your family,” he states, and my heart sinks into my stomach.

I spent years praying that somehow I could find a way out of this life, but I lost hope after every attempt to make it right. I’ve come to accept that there is no happily ever after for me.

“It’s not fair,” I whisper.

He frowns, not knowing what I’m referring to.

“You can’t feed my hope. You can’t tell me you’ll change my life for the better. When they asked me to testify, they promised that after a while my life would get back to normal. Well, guess what? It’s not true. My life never went back to normal, there is no normal for me. There is no husband, no kids, no future. There’s nothing for me. And you can’t just waltz into my life giving me false hope. It’s not fair.” I feel my throat constrict in a vise and tears pricking my eyes, threatening to fall.

Raphael reaches out and grabs my hand, smiling kindly. “I can’t give you your old life back, but I can keep you safe in this one. I can keep your family safe too. I have connections, I have money and I have men that can make this happen. You will be safer with me than out there alone. And the most important thing is, I know your secret. You don’t need to lie with me, you don’t need to pretend, you don’t need to be guarded around me. You can be yourself.”

I forgot a long time ago how it feels to be myself. Even my real name sounds foreign on my tongue. What he’s offering is so much more than money that I feel my resolution slip between my fingers.

“Give me one year to show you I can keep you safe, then you can go wherever you want. I’ll give you enough money to last a lifetime and a new identity. I promise. I’ll make you disappear again.” His tone is calm, reassuring, warming.

I should trust no one, run out of this place and catch the first bus out of town, but the hope he planted in my chest is already blooming. He’s promising a shoulder to lean on, help with carrying the weight of this secret, and the temptation is so inviting I find myself nodding at his marriage proposal.

“Are you nervous?” I study Silver, wrapped in a green silk dress that graces her curves without being too sexy. It’s elegant, paired with her light makeup and a new, more natural shade of red hair.

It’s been a week since our enlightening conversation in my office where she agreed to pretend to be my fiancé, and now we’re waiting in the back of a conference room at the Hilton to announce the engagement and answer some questions from journalists. I would have done something more discreet with a press release, but Matthew pointed out that the paparazzi are going wild, and they won’t stop until they get pictures of us together. Doing this joint press conference means their shots will be worth nothing because we’re publicly confirming our relationship and they won’t have the covetedinside scoopabout our romance.

“A bit, but I promise not to throw up.” She smiles and I chuckle.

I put my hands on her shoulders and squeeze lightly. “Remember what we talked about, the fake interview we practiced, and you’ll be fine,” I reassure her.

“And if you don’t feel up to answering, let Raphael handle it,” Matthew intervenes, smiling. “He’s used to these kinds of situations, and nobody’s expecting you to jump in and answer every question during your first public appearance.”

She moves her eyes from my face to my best friend’s and frowns. “You mean the only thing I’m required to do is be the pretty fiancé clinging to his arm?”

I like the way she challenges him. I witnessed a couple of banters between them yesterday when Matthew suggested more politically correct ways to answer the sexist questions. She can hold her own just fine.

Matthew shakes his head and smiles. “I can’t win with you.”

I chuckle, and she smiles a bit. I get closer to her and whisper in her ear, “You’re safe out there. Never forget that.”

She nods and I’m reassured by the sincerity I can read on her face. This week we’ve gone through all the security procedures of my team at least ten times, until she was convinced she’ll be fine if she sticks with me. I understand her worries, and I have to admit that when I told Matthew and the head of my security about her story, they were concerned too. We had to adjust and improvise some to make this work.

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