Chapter 5 HIS CONFESSION

“We should get married, Vanessa.” His voice echoed those words to me again and again.

It took me a while to find bearable footing. I wasn't sure if I should burst out like a balloon filled with laughter of ridicule or how well I could handle whatever was going on.

And then again, I couldn't help but notice the look within his eyes. They were gentle, very gentle that they cried for me to jump into his arms, to accept him as mine.

To say yes to him which seemed to be an equal with saying yes to heaven as they professed their mundane innocence to me as regarding their owner.

“That wasn't even a question.” I scoffed, barely managing the excitement of the absurdity of his words and my irritation.

Rafael smiled calmly, folding the napkin he has used to wipe my lip and putting it away. He lifted my hands off my lap and instinctively, I unfurled my folded palm.

“Forgive me, Nessa. I didn't prepare a ring for this, but name it— whatever it is you want, I will get it for you immediately, but all I want from you is to have you as my wife— to complete me, remake this failure of a man I am becoming without you in my life.

All my life, I have dreamt of this moment. A moment where I profess my intention to you, that I want to make you mine and I become yours. You are my life's goal, Vanessa and I cannot for once picture you with some other man that is not you.

I deserve you the most, you are my reward, and now that I have finally found you again, I do not intend to let you out of sight, not while you are not my wife. So, Vanessa… what do you say?”

All of this he professed eagerly, gently gauging my tender hand like it was his last lifeline that I got lost beyond the fabric of this reality, extremely lost in the warmth of his fingers.

I was beyond captivated as I watched this man Santiano Rafael Devereaux make this declaration. Was he mad in the head?

What exactly is he made up of? The very thought of him saying all of this to me was only a breeding assumption, but him speaking them into reality totally threw me off guard.

A paradoxical situation, I must call it. I had a slight faith in this happening, but the minute it happened, I was appalled, dazed and extremely short of words.

My words were hitched in my throat and I could like myself as a little born baby child who had not spoken a word all its entire minute on earth.

I couldn't find the right words to say as my mind went numb, neither could I force myself to make a squeak and all I did was gaze upon him.

Beholding the fabric of his allure which searched my face endlessly for a subtle reaction to his proposal, but in all, he was patient, patient with my sudden numbness.

It suddenly began to make sense to me. The reason why this man—Rafael, who seems to have a few loose screws -- had made all of this happen.

An obsession?

What business does Vanessa Hudgens have with a man from the Mafia world?

How long has it been, according to his words, for me to be his life's goal?

His reward?

How long has he even known me?

The pieces, yet coming together a little too fast, were also distant at the same time. There was a lot to uncover with just his confession, but was I ready to handle the truth when I'm finally placed in front of it?

That alone could cause a stirred up wave within me, but surprisingly, I turned calm, the tide he had aroused within me settling like morning dew.

I pulled away from the warmth of his touch, pushing the loose strands of my packed up curls which were in a bun behind my ear— just enough away from my face.

In spite of my deeply rooted dislike, I couldn't be indifferent to Rafael's profession of engagement to me.

For no absurd reason will a sane woman jump at the offer to be the wife of a man who had just ruined her wedding— the offer of a man who had taken her life as nothing more than a game— a gamble based on his own desires and choices.

“Nessa, the longer you take to give me a reply, you put me at a grievous unease. I want you to say it now, that we will get married at once!” Rafael continued with a tone that seemed tear driven.

‘Pathetic.’

I spat at his lewd attitude in my thoughts.

“Marrying you Rafael would be the last thing I would ever consider.” I said to him with great defiance in my voice.

The tone on his face fell, his energy which was hinged with a hint of cheerful carelessness faded fast into something else.

It was the same aura I had felt around him that sold him out as a ruthless sadistic bastard the very moment I had laid my eyes on him the first time.

This prepared me for what was coming next, but I felt extremely powerless under his watch.

After all, I had just refused him and whatever came next was the consequence of my words.

His hand shot towards me, taking a firm hold around my throat that I had my eyes closed immediately in expectancy of a squeeze.

My throat became hitched at his touch, my breath coming out harder than the last, but it never happened— the squeeze never came but instead, he let me go, his hand still saturated over my skin.

Before I knew it, his next touch was on my cheek with his fingers slightly touching my ear as he held onto my face with one hand as he caressed my cheek.

My eyes shot open at him and I realized how close he had already gotten. I could feel his breath on my face, the fragrance of his cologne rushing into my nose and filling me up.

He smelt heavenly, I must confess and each layering of touches he held on me was soft and dangerous.

His eyes were cold, yet filled with unexplainable emotions, but it was dark— extremely dark without a hint of mercy that I could feel it consuming me.

His hands crawled away from my cheek and he took hold of my chin, raising my head up against his, the more like he wanted my lips against his, then he spoke, his voice crude and unruly.

“You not ruling me out entirely is your mistake, Nessa and that fills me with so much hope. All I have to do now is make you love me enough to hate yourself for it.”