<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span><div style="margin: auto; overflow: visible; max-width: 600px;background: #0000000; color: #000000;text-align: justify"><br/>
<div style="text-align: right"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 22px">rafael silva</span><br/>
_________________</span>​</div><br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><div class="bbImageWrapper js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1622634799527-gif.84398/" title="1622634799527.gif">
<img alt="1622634799527.gif" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1622634799527-gif.84398/" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="230" src="data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='500' height='230' viewBox%3D'0 0 500 230'%2F%3E" style="" title="1622634799527.gif" width="500"/>
<noscript><img alt="1622634799527.gif" class="bbImage" data-url="" data-zoom-target="1" height="230" src="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/attachments/1622634799527-gif.84398/" style="" title="1622634799527.gif" width="500"/></noscript>
</div></span>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">“You want to leave? Then leave Danielle. You don’t have to make a big fucking show out of it!”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh here we go.” The woman rolled her eyes at the male, tossing her hands up at the conversation and turning to return back to the bedroom where she had began packing her things. It was three in the morning and she had just returned from a night out with the girls. Getting away – That’s all she had been doing for the last six months since Rafael’s bender got worse and worse. She loved him, she had loved him for the last seven years and still stuck by his side even after learning of his affair with his sous chef. She had thought that her becoming pregnant would change things and it did for a while. For a while he seemed okay – until she realized that just because he wasn’t getting sauced at home didn’t mean he wasn’t guzzling down shots with his buds at work. Leniency - he’d often brought that up to her. They had everything she wanted after all: a nice apartment in New York City, they were engaged and now expecting a child. But it wasn’t enough – something in Rafael made t hard for him to accept that he was good enough and Danielle was done trying to prove to him that he was. She was done fiddling the man like a child who constantly needed his ego stroked.<br/>
Rafael stumbled toward the bedroom, ice blue eyes like the small lick to a bright flame.<br/>
<br/>
“Danielle please. Please you know I love you – <i>both </i>of you.” She closed her eyes tightly at the crack in his voice. Her head hung and the brunette kinky curls bounced gently against the side of her face. She wring a shirt in her hands tightly in hopes it would stop the tears but her hormones were all over the place being three months pregnant. How much more could he expect her to take? Her friends thought she was nuts and the whole time they were together was spent talking about how much time she was wasting with a man who’d cheated on her the same day he proposed to her.<br/>
<br/>
Rafael pressed himself against her back, his hands wrapped around her stomach. She ignored the smell of gin on his breath. Deep down in there was still the fun and charismatic chef that she had fallen in love with. He was a man with a dream then – a line cook who had the eye for beauty and fine tasting things. It had been his pickup line for her when she visited the restaurant he worked at. He went through the trouble of preparing her dish specifically and walking it out – just to get her number. That was the man she had fallen in love with. Who was this man now?<br/>
<br/>
She had family and friends that were willing to help. She had a good job and she could very well take care of her and their child, br she loved Rafael so much that it hurt to even think about leaving him. He’d been good – for the most part. His mistress was no longer working with him, he was opening a new restaurant – they could be the star family that many people envied. They could have that complete life she had pictured the minute he got on his knee and proposed to her. They could – if she didn’t leave. Or things would be the same.<br/>
The dark haired male nuzzled the woman’s neck.<br/>
<br/>
“Please. I promise, I promise I’ll quit. I <i>promise.” </i></span><br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">_______________________</span>​</div><br/>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">“Fucking hell Tyson! Tyson!” Rafael called out across the kitchen as he slammed closed the fridge. They were a month from opening his new restaurant in Seattle but today was a soft opening – just something to introduce the locals to his food. Since Rafael was sixteen it had been his dream to own his own restaurant, now he was opening his second. To say he felt accomplished was an understatement – but there was still the underlying seed inside of him that wanted to price everyone wrong – to prove himself wrong and he wondered if he would ever be able to reach that level that he had in his head. His life wasn’t as pleasant and he wanted to distance himself as much as possible from the young hoodlum he had grown up as.<br/>
<br/>
His mother was wrapped up in drugs and Rafael spent his time bouncing from his father’s and his grandmother’s place. His relationship with his father soon ended when he was eleven and not by choice; the man just grew tired of bailing his mother or of jail and soon grew tired of taking in the responsibility of Rafael when he had a family of his own up in Manhattan. The weight of raising a young man lied in his grandmother’s shoulders and while she tried her hardest to keep him out of trouble, it seemed to easily find Rafael.<br/>
<br/>
After getting caught up in a robbery gone wrong at thirteen he was sent to juvie and it was probably the best thing to happen to the young male. He started to focus on school, focus on being better than he was and he found his passion: cooking. Cooking had been ingrained in him because of his grandmother. He was raised by the Spanish native and often when he was in trouble, subjected to helping her in the kitchen. It was his way of finding peace often too when things seemed out of hand and when locked up, he found it the easiest source of focus to stay out of trouble.<br/>
<br/>
Rafael’s interests didn’t go unnoticed and after leaving he was offered the opportunity to work in the kitchen for a rising chef. He started out washing dishes but by then he was invigorated by the possibility of change for himself and his grandmother. Getting out of the slums of the Bronx was his goal. With hard work he managed to work his way up the ranks and when the chef had decided to return back to London, he offered his restaurant to Rafael for the taking. He’d saved enough money to buy his own , but his heart was rooted in this place and eventually he opened: Sol. It was a hot spot for young New Yorkers who wanted a taste of Spain in the gritty Big Apple. And it was a success, so much so that the pressure to maintain it seemed to ride heavily on his shoulders.<br/>
But he had Danielle.Rafael always had Danielle by his side and he knew she was the woman for him. And had always been the one – or so he thought. Was it possible to love two people at once?<br/>
<br/>
“Yes boss.”<br/>
<br/>
“Who was responsible for the produce run this morning? We’re low as fuck – you guys are out there smoking with one hand and the other up your ass. Come on now.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll get on it. The new guy never showed up.” He rolled his eyes at the male who scurried away toward the back. Of course he hadn’t shown up. Rafael had a bit of a reputation by now and depending on who you met it was good or bad. Br everyone knew that he was climbing toward fame and especially after receiving his Michelin stars. He demanded nothing but the best and that included of himself.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes flickered toward his watch and he adjusted the black chef coat he wore. His new team would be arriving soon and they’d be having a meeting covering today’s event. He’d taken over the failing restaurant and within a year had created another Sol in the heart of Seattle. He moved his whole life over – including his wife and his baby girl Violet.<br/>
<br/>
They were doing good so far. Of course he knew it had to do with him drinking less. Quitting cold turkey had been terrible, but he had managed a system now. Just one drink – only during social hours. He soon found that he didn’t even need that and he thought he was okay. He was managing well, but the stress of running a new restaurant and still getting used to a newborn baby was difficult.<br/>
<br/>
He stepped into his office and removed the fist, large calloused hands reaching up to toy with the dark strands of hair before he finally walked out toward the floor where he expected to meet his team. He was glad to see people on time, already filing in. Though when his eyes landed in someone you’d think he saw a ghost.</span><br/>
</div>