Breaking the kiss, she whispered against his ear, “Raphael, I want you. Just for tonight. And I promise—after this, I’ll tell our parents to cancel our engagement.”
Then, with a teasing bite to his ear, she left a faint hickey on his neck.
Raphael exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread. The promise she dangled before him, the way she fit against him—it was all too much.
Smirking, he met her gaze. “You better keep your promise, Colette.”
And just like that, the night spiraled into an unstoppable, heated frenzy inside the car.
As I stepped onto the balcony, I found myself cornered instead.
A familiar group of men strutted in, their tailored suits and smug grins radiating entitlement.
Raphael’s so-called friends—men who once laughed as they dissected my most intimate moments with him like it was some late-night gossip.
“Well, well, look who decided to sulk in the shadows,” one of them sneered, his voice dripping with amusement.
“Heartbroken already, Nadine?” another chimed in, swirling his glass of whiskey as if he were making a toast to my misery.