“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”
Rafael looked up then, away from the photographs scattered haphazardly on the desk in front of him; the desk that was currently the only thing separating himself from Sonny as they worked.
His hands froze over the picture he had been about to examine, a mugshot of a man that had been paid to kill him in addition to Felipe Heredio,
because apparently hiring one assassin wasn’t good enough for whoever wanted him dead.
In fact, all six of the photographs that laid in front of him were of various men that Sonny had persuaded Heredio to name over the course of the last month,
all apparent co-conspirators in the plot to kill Rafael Barba.
They still didn’t know who had hired them.
None of the men had been arrested yet.
And Rafael was no closer to getting his life back, the life that had existed before the threat of dying had begun to loom over every single one of his conscious thoughts and actions.
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