He took my hand, stood, and without sparing any glance to the other occupants on the table, announced, 'we are leaving'.
'You can't leave now! The auction has just begun. What will the media think? Jacob- 'Diana is in the middle of profanity when we left the ballroom.
Raphael didn't take me to any other room, but straight to the parking garage which was thankfully away from the prying eyes of the media.
He selected a Bugatti la Voiture Noire (the most expensive one) from a handful of cars (I don't know the names of half of them, only that they would be freaking expensive) and opened the door saying, 'get in'.
Ok. Not. 'One, I'm not a dog to follow your orders, and two, where are you taking me? I just clarified I'm not ready for any of your hanky-panky', I said with my cheeks blazing probably a nice shade of red from my blushing.
'You amaze me, Erica. Hanky-Panky? Even after what we have done, this air of innocence clunks to you which never bores me'
'Oh shush. Flattery is not getting you anywhere Raphael. I need some time to digest the last 24 hours. Surely you must understand. I need...space', I said hands in the air displaying my confusion.
He covered the very thing I asked, putting both hands on the hood of the car and said, 'I said get in the car Erica'
Now my will power which was not much to talk about is dwindling. 'Raphael-'
He cut me off with a full-blown kiss that made me regret my earlier decision. 
I broke the kiss before it could escalate further, Raphael please'.
'Tell me what shall I do to convince you? Name it', Raphael cajoled.
'I don't know. I... Show me that whatever this thing we have between us matters to you'
'Is that all?'
'Yes, Raphael that is what I want'
'Then get in'
I opened my mouth to argue further when he cut my words by saying, 'I'm taking you to my place'.
His place! Words stuck in my throat at what he is signifying. Finally, I get to see his place. Though he introduced me as his girlfriend today, it didn't feel official until this moment. It made everything more personal...more intimate. This is it. The signal I was waiting for. The door that was locked to me is finally going to be open. It's just not about his place or my place, it's about him allowing me to invade his sanctuary as a girlfriend. All those banging of my head on his stubborn personality relentlessly finally paid off.
'We are doing this then?', I asked him. We both know I'm talking about our status/ relationship/ whatever it is.
'Yes, Erica, we are doing this'. 
Unbeknownst to the couple, a voice belonging to the person hiding in the same garage said to someone on the phone, 'they just left for Raphael Sinclair's place'.
His place is the opposite of the Sinclair Mansion. The Mansion represented grandeur with all its antique tastes and dramatic appearance. Whereas his place screams modern, pristine with a touch of artistic look. It's like a magazine cover-good to look at, but hard to live in. I wonder where Raphael's home is. This... this is not a home, it's just a house with a sterile view. All my musings left me once Raphael enveloped me. All our excursions made me sleepy and I gave in to it with Raphael cocooning me in his arms. who would have known that it would be the last time before my world tilts!
Something woke me in the night. I looked at the time and it is 3 am. When I glanced at the bed, it was empty. Where is he? I quickly covered myself in one of Raphael's shirts and his boxer shorts, not yet confident enough to parade naked in his home and went in search of him. Trying to locate him, I remembered my earlier promise about discussing Sophie with Raphael. This is the best time as any. Holding inside me any longer will only wrack my anxiety levels. Though I would have asked in the morning, we are both wide awake. Why delay?
Thinking he must be in his study room I knocked and entered without waiting for his permission. Alas, it is empty.
Let's check what secrets Raphael hides! said, my inner diva.
It's not proper. Oh, please, since when do you consider proper?
Fine. Just a teeny tiny peek. What's the harm in it? With that thought, I opened a drawer closest to his chair. I wished there was a time machine and I could go two minutes back, living in blissful ignorance. I wished there was a chance to warn my naive, stupid, trusted self- no, don't open that. Go back, go back.
Looking at the contents in the drawer one by one, my smile, my radiance, my stupid Dove innocence, slowly seeped out of me, flowing like the water when stood under a shower. Only, there is no shower. No warning. Why? I wanted to shout... scream at the universe... WHY!!!
I didn't just lose a part of me, I lost all of me at that moment. The Erica Anderson everyone knows died a slow death that second. A strange numbness took over my body. Maybe my body thought it would protect from the hurt. Alas, there is no physical wound. Not a scratch on my body, yet I'm standing in the puddle of invisible blood poured out of me looking at this. The blindfolds have been lifted. A glimpse of heaven is given before it is snatched ruthlessly from me. Oh god, why do you do this to me always? I wanted to scream... how could you? I was happy, blissful... finally dreaming about something. Fate has to intervene, doesn't it? I expected a dream, but it became a nightmare. Who could have thought all it takes is a look at this, to crumble the never losing fighter, Erica Anderson? No ring was there, no gloves were drawn, but all the same, I lost- to an opponent I never considered.