“Rafayel, please—calm down,” I whispered, gently placing a hand on his arm. “I don’t believe it’s Terrell. It can’t be. Besides… how would he even know where your villa is?”

A derisive snort escaped his lips, the sound rough with barely-leashed fury.

“And why would he still be hunting you if he knew you were married?” His fingers flexed at his sides, the shadows of the penthouse stretching long across his tense shoulders. “This makes no damn sense.”

I reached out, letting my fingers trail soothingly down his arm—a silent plea for patience.

His skin burned hot beneath my touch, the muscles taut as coiled wire.

“Let me check first,”...