Page 62 of Monsters Wear Crowns
Lauren made a sound of frustration, but she didn’t argue.
Scarface stepped forward. “Sir, we’ve already started the cleanup, but there’s…more.” His throat bobbed, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward me.
“Say it,” Rafe said, his tone ice.
“It’s a message for her, sir.”
The air went still. My blood turned to ice.
“What?” My voice shot up an octave.
Scarface shifted uneasily. “The crate…it came with a note. Arealone. Paper.” He pulled a folded sheet from his jacket and handed it to Rafe.
Rafe opened it slowly, his eyes scanning the words. I watched his face, but it gave nothing away. And when he passed the paper to me, my fingers felt numb.
Back out, Sinclair. You will die.
A cold shiver raced down my spine.
“He’s targeting you,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Because he thinks you’re my weakness.”
I met his eyes. “Is he right?”
The silence that followed stretched hot and dangerous between us.
“Not here,” he said finally. “We talk in private.”
He reached for my hand. I let him take it, even though part of me knew that meant I was already too deep in this.
Lauren’s voice followed us as he led me back into the house. “Adela–”
“I’ll handle it,” I called back, though I wasn’t sure if I meant the body or Rafe. Maybe both.
We didn’t stop until we were inside his study, a massive, shadowed space lined with books and glass cases that held things I probably didn’t want to know the history of. He shut the door behind us, and when I turned to face him, the tension between us snapped.
“Okay, what thefuck. You need to tell me what this is.” I demanded.
Rafe’s eyes flashed. “He wants to scare you off.”
“He doesn’t know me very well, then,” I said, stepping closer. “But you do. So tell me, what do I need to know?”
He hesitated. And Ihatedthat. “The usual reason powerful men hate each other. One wants power more than he should have.”
“Goddammit,” I hissed. “I didn’t sign up to be automatically included in this.”
“I’m giving you protection.” His voice was low. “And youwilltake it.”
Anger sparked through me. “Don’ttell me what I’ll take. You didn’t even fucking tell me about Moreau. He’s a scary motherfucker, Rafe.”
He moved closer, slowly, until the heat of him pressed against me, and my pulse went wild. “So am I. Now stand down.”
We were too close, his breath warm on my lips, his body a wall of apprehension and power. And maybe I should’ve been scared. Maybe I should’ve pulled back.
But there was no way in hell.
“Adela,” he murmured, his voice rough. “You need to move in with me.”
I tilted my chin up. “What?No.”
