"𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥"

XXVIII/The Unseen Truth

Rosario's Point of View:

It was 3 AM, and the relentless ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the silence of my suite. The numbers on the clock's face glowed eerily in the dark, taunting me with the sleep I couldn't grasp. My nights were often like this—endless hours spent chasing the peace that never came, consumed by the ceaseless demands of being the eldest son of the Spanish mafia.

The work never stopped. Even in the dead of night, my mind was occupied with the constant flow of information, strategies, and decisions that kept our empire intact. I was seated at my desk, the dim light of my laptop casting long shadows across the room, my fingers typing away on some urgent document. But my thoughts were far from focused. They drifted, as they often did, to memories too painful to keep at bay.

As I lost myself in the monotonous rhythm of work, I felt a soft, familiar touch on the back of my neck. A warmth that chased away the cold dread I often carried with me. Raisa. I knew her touch instantly, the way her fingers traced gentle patterns on my skin, grounding me, reminding me of where I was.

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my cheek as she whispered, "Are you coming to bed? It's really late."

I turned my head to look at her, taking in the sight of her—Raisa, the woman who had somehow managed to slip past all the walls I'd built around my heart. She was more than beautiful; she was intelligent, fierce, and everything I never thought I deserved after what happened twenty years ago.

I'd once believed I was incapable of loving again, that the parts of me that could love had been shattered beyond repair. But Raisa had proved me wrong. She had healed the brokenness within me, piece by piece, and for that, I would always be indebted to her.

I reached out, pulling her closer until our lips met in a slow, deep kiss. "Yeah, I'm coming," I murmured against her mouth, my voice thick with the exhaustion that no amount of sleep could cure, and something else—something darker that lingered at the edges of my consciousness.

It was the fear of losing her, the constant shadow that followed me wherever I went. But I pushed those thoughts away, focusing instead on the woman in my arms.

We moved together, wordlessly, towards the bed. In the dim light of the room, we undressed each other slowly, savoring every moment as if it could be our last. I laid her down on the bed, trailing kisses down her neck, her body, worshipping her with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

It wasn't just about desire; it was about needing to feel alive, to remind myself that there was still light in my life, still something worth fighting for.

Our bodies moved together in a rhythm we'd perfected over time, a dance of passion and love that left us both breathless. As I held her close, her skin warm and slick against mine, I felt something I rarely allowed myself to feel—peace. In those moments, with Raisa in my arms, I could almost forget the weight of the world, the pain of the past, the responsibilities that never ceased.

When it was over, we lay there in the quiet, her head resting on my chest, our breaths slowly evening out. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, my heart still racing, not just from the physical exertion but from the raw emotion that always followed. "I missed you," I whispered into her hair, the words heavy with the truth.

She smiled softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. "I missed you too, Rosario. I'm sorry I've been away so much."

"Don't apologize," I said, tightening my arms around her. "You're here now, and that's all that matters."

We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, until sleep finally began to claim us. As I drifted off, I allowed myself one last thought—a fleeting wish that maybe, just maybe, the nightmares wouldn't come tonight.