Caldera Blood

A tall man stands beside an open car door holding a cracked black motorcycle helmet in both hands.

Then he looked into the car. Something had slid off the back seat onto the floor.

A helmet. Black, scuffed, a long crack across the shell.

Mira

Rafael?

Caldera Blood

Chapter 4 of 12

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Synopsis

I wore a red wig and a fake name to a card game I had no business being in. I only wanted my mother's sewing machine back from Delphine Marchetti. She wanted me to make a fool of myself in front of the man in the back room. He was supposed to laugh at me. Instead he stood up, took my hand, and ended her game. Rafael Caldera is not a man you play games with. He is quieter than his reputation and more dangerous than the whispers. He has lost someone, and he carries it like a wound that won't close. I saw him break, and he let me hold him. I promised myself I would never see him again. Then my ex came back to humiliate me, and the only place I wanted to run was straight to Rafael. Now he knows my real name, and he is not letting me go after one night.