Chapter 4 Daddy is coming, Eva darling

Next day, noon

“Oh… daddy.”

Rafael’s eyes snapped open as Eva’s moan echoed through his mind, sharp and unwelcome. He clenched his jaw, a curse slipping past his lips as he stared at the ceiling of his penthouse. Even in sleep, she haunted him, her voice, her defiance, the way she looked at him like she hated him and wanted him all at once.

“Fuck,” he muttered, irritation coiling tight in his chest.

It was well past midnight. He had returned only an hour ago from one of his sites, the kind of place where laws didn’t exist and loyalty was bought in blood. His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to rest.

Reaching for the phone on the side table, he checked the screen. One message glowed at the top, it was his right hand, Calo.

“Boss, Victor Miller is here to meet you.”

A slow, dangerous smirk curved Rafael’s lips.

So the father finally had the courage to show his face.

‘ Keep that dog waiting in the room, ‘ Rafael typed back. ‘I’ll come when I’m ready.’

He rose from the bed, his movements deliberate, and walked toward the bathroom. Cold water splashed against his face, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning in his veins.

Today, ghosts would be confronted.

And debts would be remembered.

After a while, Victor sat alone in Rafael Vladimir’s office.

The room was carved in darkness, gray walls, cold lighting, and the mounted heads of wild animals staring down like silent witnesses. Everything about the space screamed power and brutality. It felt less like an office and more like a warning.

Victor checked his phone, fingers moving quickly as he typed to his son.

Prepare everything for Eva. One message from me, and you take her straight to the airport. No delays.

He sent it and leaned back, unease curling in his chest. He had faced powerful men before, but Rafael was different. This wasn’t business. This was personal.

Meanwhile,

Eva stood in her bedroom, watching as her maids packed her belongings in hurried silence. Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the table. She had told Abram everything about the previous night, every threat, every acts, and Abram had wasted no time informing Victor. That was when the decision was made.

She had to leave. Immediately.

Eva wasn’t fearless. Anyone who said otherwise would be lying. After what she had learned, after what Rafael represented, fear sat heavy in her bones. For her, death seemed kinder than falling into the hands of a man known for blood and vengeance.

Only hours ago, she discovered the truth- the deal sealed years before her consent ever mattered.

A pact between the Millers and the Vladimirs.

Eva will become the daughter-in-law of the Vladimir legacy.

The agreement was made when she was nine. Rafael was sixteen.

Eva was shattered after hearing the truth. She cried for hours, her sobs muffled into the pillows, her chest aching with fear. Rafael’s words from the previous night kept replaying in her head.. cold, possessive, final. Each echo reminded her of what would happen if she failed to leave the country in time.

That fear was still crawling over her skin when Abram entered her bedroom.

“Eva,” he said softly, though urgency bled into his tone. “Get ready. We leave in ten minutes.”

Her breath hitched. Goosebumps rose along her arms.

So Rafael hadn’t agreed to let her go.

“He didn’t agree?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Abram looked at her with quiet sympathy, the kind that hurt more than harsh words. “Just put on your jeans,” he said, then turned and walked out.

—

“Prepare for the wedding, Victor Miller.”

Rafael’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and merciless.

“Eva was mine. She is mine. She belongs to the Vladimirs.”

Victor swallowed hard as Rafael continued, his tone savage, unyielding.

“The Millers and the Biancos destroyed my family. Now your daughter will restore my bloodline. She was bound to be my bride long before she understood what that meant.”

Rafael leaned forward, eyes dark with promise and threat.

“If you want your legacy to survive, you will give me what is already mine. I will take her back to where she belongs.”

This was not a negotiation.

Victor understood it then, Rafael Vladimir was fire. And fire did not ask. It consumed. 

“You understand, Victor Miller?” Rafael asked calmly.

Victor swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

“Yes,” he replied.

He knew better than to refuse. Defiance would not save Eva, it would only hasten her destruction. Rafael Vladimir was not a man who negotiated; he enforced. So Victor chose the only option left to him, compliance.

“I will talk to Eva,” Victor said, rising from his seat.

He was halfway to the door when Rafael’s voice stopped him.

“And one more thing.”

Victor froze.

“No cleverness,” Rafael continued, his tone deceptively quiet.

“If I sense even a trace of betrayal, I will give you a death so slow you’ll beg for mercy long before it comes.” The warning was not loud. It didn’t need to be.

Victor forced a nod. “Don’t worry. I remember the promise I made to your father.”

Rafael’s eyes never left him as Victor walked out.

A bodyguard escorted him through the vast hallway. Men dressed in black lined the walls, armed, silent, watching. The place felt like a fortress, no, a cage.

Victor stepped into the lift, his pulse pounding as the doors slid shut. Only then did he pull out his phone.

“Dad, we’ve left,” the message read.

Victor allowed himself a brief, tight smile.

He didn’t know how yet but he would save his children from the storm named Rafael Vladimir. Even if it meant playing the most dangerous game of his life.

—

Rafael was still in his office, sunk deep in thought, plotting his next move. A cigar rested between his lips. When he dragged a long puff, his lungs burned, but that pain was insignificant compared to what churned inside his chest.

The burn of betrayal.

The burn of hatred.

Lost in those thoughts, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. It was the man he had assigned to keep a close watch on Eva whenever she stepped out of the house.

He answered.

“Yes?” he said coldly.

“Both Miller siblings have left their mansion and are heading to the airport. Looks like they’re planning to leave the country,” the man reported.

Rafael’s jaw tightened instantly.

‘ Betrayal?’ The word echoed in his mind.

“Don’t worry. I remember the promise I made to your father.”

Victor’s voice resurfaced in his head, clear and mocking.

Rafael’s lips curled ever so slightly.

“Then it’s time to execute Plan B,” he said.

“Understood, boss.”

The call disconnected. Rafael remained still, unnervingly calm. His face showed no emotion as he rose from his chair.

“Oh, Victor,” he murmured, “you’ve just signed your own death warrant.”

He reached for the drawer beside his desk and pulled it open slowly.

“I warned you not to defy me,” he continued, voice low and dangerous. “I told you to play with me… tsk… tsk.”

His gaze settled on the gun lying inside, dark and waiting.

“Daddy is coming, Eva darling.”