Amanda sat on one of the leather seats, arms crossed as she replayed his words in her head.
Let's make a bet.
It felt like a trap, but at least she had gotten what she wanted. She could finally go back to work.
Or so she thought.
She sighed, leaning back against the seat, lost in thought. That was when she heard the door to the bathroom open.
Raphael stepped out, his dark hair damp, water dripping down his chiseled chest. A towel hung loosely around his hips, and the heat of the steam still clung to his skin.
Amanda looked up. Their eyes met.
She expected a smirk, a teasing remark-some cocky comment about catching her staring. But there was nothing.
Just silence.
His expression was unreadable. His gaze darted around the cabin, lingering on unfamiliar objects, his breathing slow and measured.
Something felt... off.
Amanda straightened. "Raphael?"
His eyes flickered to hers, but they held no warmth.
Then he spoke.
"Who are you?"
Her stomach dropped.