Chapter 5 - The Unspoken Boundary|
"Rhett," Isa said, her voice dropping into a dangerous register. "What did Marcus mean? What did you do to Tyler?"
Rhett didn't flinch under her sharp gaze. He walked over to the fireplace, picked up a heavy iron poker, and casually adjusted one of the burning logs.
"I handled a liability," Rhett replied calmly, his back turned to her.
"He's a civilian!" Isa said, attempting to sit up again, ignoring the sharp stab in her ribs. "You can't just... you can't use your syndicate tactics on someone because he hurt me!"
Rhett turned around slowly, the iron poker resting loosely in his grip. The cold, lethal aura that usually terrified Chicago's underworld radiated from his frame, filling the bedroom.
"He broke into your home, Isa," Rhett said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "He put his hands around your throat. He left you bleeding on the floor like trash. In my world, a man who does that doesn't get a police report. He gets erased."
"This isn't your world!" she shouted, instantly wincing as her damaged ribs protested the exertion. She clutched her side, her face turning pale.
Rhett set the iron poker down with a loud clack and crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside her bed. His large hands hover above her shoulders, desperate to soothe her pain but terrified of causing more.
"Stop moving," he commanded, his deep voice thick with an emotion he couldn't hide. "Breathe slowly, Isa. Just breathe."
Isa took a few shallow, trembling breaths until the agonizing spasm in her side faded. She looked down at his face—at the hard jawline, the dark stubble outlining his lips, and the gray eyes that were currently burning with absolute, chaotic concern for her.
"Why do you care so much?" she whispered softly, her hand trembling as she reached out, her fingertips hovering an inch above his dark knuckles. "I'm just your assistant. I organize your schedule. I order your coffee."
Rhett looked at her hand, then slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. The mask of the ruthless mafia boss didn't just slip—it shattered completely.
"You think you're just an assistant to me?" Rhett asked rasply.
"Aren't I?"
"For three years," Rhett whispered, his voice dropping into a register she had never heard before, "you have been the only clean thing in my life, Isa. Every morning I wake up to a world filled with blood, extortion, and men who want to put a bullet in my spine. And every morning at seven o'clock, you walk into my office, and the world makes sense."
Isa's heart slammed against her ribs—not from pain, but from the sudden, overwhelming heat that surged through her blood.
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"Rhett..."
"I didn't break Tyler Cain's hands because you work for me," Rhett confessed, his thumb lightly brushing against her chin, avoiding her split lip with incredible tenderness. "I did it because if he had taken you away from me yesterday, I would have burned this entire city to the ground."
