<h4>Chapter 33: Distracted</h4>


    The hospital corridor thrummed with tension—a low, electric murmur of beeping machines, scuffed linoleum, and voices too hushed to trust. Rafael Vexley moved like a shadow through it all, his custom wheelchair gliding with effortless grace, the quiet spin of the wheels sounding more like a warning than a whisper.


    Next to him walked Eliana Bet, dragging he beat up box behind her like a tired soldier hauling memories. Her right arm was bound in a sling, a stark white bandage slicing across the warmth of her skin like a scar that hadn’t learned how to hide. She wore a navy-blue sweater—in—and faded jeans that clung to her like old regrets. The gown was gone, the hospital smell almost scrubbed off. Her curls tumbled around her face in soft, unruly waves, defiant and unapologetic. Her honey-brown eyes flicked around like she expected judgment at every turn—because it was already waiting.


    And the corridor delivered.


    Nurses froze mid-step, charts clutched to their chests like shields. Whispers filled the air.


    "Are my eyes deceiving me? Rafael Vexley?" one nurse breathed, like speaking his name too loudly might shatter something. "Is he really here? For her?"


    A patient with a walker stared in open disbelief, jaw ck.


    Rafael was a name that didn’t belong in this kind of hospital. He was legendary—an elusive billionaire ghost with rumors swirling around him like smoke: blind, paralyzed, unreachable, tyrant. The kind of man whose existence lived in business headlines, not broken hospital tiles.


    And yet—here he was.


    Beside her.


    Eliana could feel the weight of the stares bitting her like a second injury. The sling ached. Her box thumped behind her. She didn’t flinch, but she didn’t meet anyone’s eyes either.


    "That’s Keh Holloway’s granddaughter, isn’t it?" one nurse murmured to another, barely blinking. "The adopted one."


    There was a pause. Then a scoff.


    "She’s supposed to be swimming in diamonds. Not limping out of here looking like—"


    "She was in an ident, remember?"


    "An ident that got her hospitalized. And he shows up for her?"


    Rafael said nothing. He didn’t need to. His presence was thunder in silk—quiet, but unmistakably powerful despite his disabilities. His expression was unreadable, but the way he kept pace with Eliana said more than words. Protective. Steady. Close. Like the whole damn hospital could burn down around them and he’d still be there.


    Eliana’s cheeks burned as she caught the words, her fingers tugging at the hem of her sweater. She tried to angle her face away, but the corridor was a gauntlet of stares. Phones were already out, shes popping like tiny explosions, capturing her beside Rafael’s imposing figure. His steel-grey eyes, hidden behind the pretense of clouded blindness, scanned the crowd with a predator’s precision, though his face remained a mask of cold indifference. Whispers swirled like smoke. "Are they dating?" a young patient whispered to her friend, giggling. "She could’ve picked someone who isn’t, you know, <i>multiply disabled,"</i> another voice sneered, loud enough to move through the room.


    Rafael’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his chiseled cheek. His hands gripped the arms of his wheelchair, knuckles stretching, but he kept rolling, his silence a storm brewing beneath the surface. Eliana nced at him, catching the flicker of rage in his expression before he buried it. She wanted to snap at the gossipers, to tell them they didn’t know half the story, but her throat was too dry, her body too weary. Instead, she focused on the rhythm of her steps, matching Rafael’s pace as they neared the ss doors.


    James appeared like a shadow at the exit, hisnky frame dwarfed by Rafael’smanding aura. "This way, sir," he said, holding the door open, his eyes darting between his boss and Eliana. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their murmurs trailing the trio into the crisp evening air. Outside, the Bentley waited, its tinted windows gleaming under the morning sun. James opened the door and pressed the controls of the car’s ramp, and Rafael maneuvered his chair with practiced ease, his movements betraying none of the strength he hid. Eliana hesitated, her gaze flicking to the hospital behind her, where faces pressed against the windows, still watching.


    "Get in, Miss Bet," Rafael said, his voice low and clipped, cutting through her thoughts. "Unless you n to walk back to my estate in that state."


    Eliana’s eyes narrowed, a spark of her usual fire returning. "I’m perfectly capable of walking, Mr. Vexley," she retorted, but she slid into the backseat, wincing as her sprained wrist brushed the door. "Though I’d rather not give those vultures more to photograph."


    Rafael’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk. "Smart choice." He turned to James, who was settling into the driver’s seat. "Drop Miss Bet at the estate. Then take me to the office."


    "Got it, sir," James replied, his voice neutral, though his eyes lingered on Rafael in the rearview mirror, curiosity burning. <i>What’s gotten into him?</i> he wondered. Rafael Vexley didn’t personally escort employees home from hospitals. He didn’t care. Or did he?


    The drive to Rafael’s sprawling estate was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space where words might have lived. Eliana stared out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and red, her mind reying the hospital’s whispers. Rafael’s presence beside her was a weight, his silence louder than any lecture. As the Bentley pulled up to the estate’s iron gates, he turned to her, his voice sharp but softer than before. "Stay in the house, Miss Bet. No running around. You’re no use to me if you copse again."


    Eliana scoffed, her eyes shing. "I’m not a child, Mr. Vexley. And I’m not your prisoner." She pushed the door open, stepping out before he could respond, her sling catching the sunlight. As James drove away, she watched the Bentley taillights fade, Eliana huffed, "Stay in the house, Miss Bet. No running around." she muttered, mimicking his voice with a slight eye-roll. "Like I’m some disobedient puppy." She watched until the car vanished around the bend, then turned to face the mansion.


    Meanwhile, in the car, Rafael sat rigid in his seat, eyes staring out the window but not seeing anything because his mind was elsewhere. The world outside passed in streaks of gray and green.


    "Alexa," he said quietly, his voice low butmanding.


    "Yes, Rafael?" the smooth female voice of the inbuilt AI system replied through the car’s console.


    "Call ra."


    There was a short chime, then a ringing tone. ra picked up on the second ring.


    "Yes, Mr. Vexley?" came her warm, professional voice.


    "Eliana is on her way into the house. Give her the guest room beside mine."


    There was a pause.


    "...The room beside yours, sir?" ra asked slowly.


    "Yes."


    Another silence followed, but ra didn’t argue. "Understood, sir."


    Rafael ended the call without a goodbye.


    From the front seat, James raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak. Not yet. It wasn’t his ce. Still, his fingers flexed slightly around the steering wheel. Something was happening to his boss. And James, who’d been with Rafael for eight years now—through hospital visits, business deals, and secret investigations—had never seen the man act like this.


    He nced at the rearview mirror. Rafael’s jaw was tight, eyes unreadable. <i>Obsessed? </i>No, James didn’t want to use that word.


    But it was close.


    Back at the house, the heavy front door creaked open before Eliana could even lift her hand to knock. ra, dressed in her pristine white uniform with a silver Vexley pin on her chest, opened the door with a soft gasp.


    "Oh, Miss Bet! You’re—oh my goodness..." Her eyes darted to the sling and the faint bruises peeking out from the edge of Eliana’s sleeve. "Are you alright?"


    Eliana gave her a small smile, trying to be brave. "Got into a little ident yesterday. On my way back here."


    ra’s face crumpled with sympathy. "Oh, dear. Come in,e in. Please."


    ra took her box without asking, gently ushering her inside. The interior of the mansion was just as grand as always—sleek marble floors, tall ceilings with cascading ss chandeliers, and the soft scent of eucalyptus and lemon drifting through the air like a whisper.


    "This way, Miss Bet," ra said. "We’ve prepared a room for you." She scooped up Eliana’s box with surprising strength, leading her inside.


    Eliana followed her through a quiet corridor, trailing behind the young woman as her shoes clicked softly against the stone. She tried not to limp too much. Her legs still ached from the fall.


    ra stopped in front of a tall, dark-wooden door and opened it with a gentle push. "Here we are."


    Eliana stepped in—and stopped short.


    The room was massive. Soft cream-colored walls. A king-sized bed covered in velvet and satin sheets. A crystal vase of fresh lilies sat on a mirrored dresser. There were golden sconces on the walls, soft lighting that made everything feel like a dream. Even the curtains were thick, expensive, trailing like gowns down to the floor.


    She turned slowly, stunned. "I—this... This can’t be for me."


    ra smiled, a little amused. "It is. Mr. Vexley gave the order himself."


    Eliana blinked. "He... what? Why would he—? I mean, I’m just—"


    "A caregiver," ra finished, nodding. "Yes, I thought the same thing. But apparently, you’re not just anything to him." She winked.


    Eliana flushed, her face burning, heart fluttering despite her best efforts to keep it steady.


    "Well," ra continued, "you should rest. I’ll bring you something to eat shortly."


    "Thank you," Eliana said, overwhelmed.


    ra gave her a gentle nod and bowed slightly—a habit from working too long with rich people, Eliana guessed—before disappearing down the hall.


    Alone now, Eliana looked around once more.


    "This... doesn’t make sense," she whispered to herself.


    Still, her limbs were too tired to question it much. The bed looked like a soft cloud sent from heaven. She kicked off her shoes, climbed in gently, cradling her injured arm, and sank into the cool sheets.


    Sleep took her in seconds.


    Rafael Vexley sat in his office like a ghost, tall and still, surrounded by walls of ss and chrome. The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurred by hisck of focus.


    He should’ve been working. He had five back-to-back meetings lined up. The third quarter projections for VexTech were waiting. James stood nearby, holding a tablet with financial graphs and projections blinking across the screen.


    "...And with the new software update, we’re expecting a 12%—sir? Are you listening?"


    Rafael didn’t respond. He was lost.


    James paused, lips pressing into a thin line.


    "I said," he repeated carefully, "we’re expecting a 12% increase in user retention based on—"


    "James," Rafael interrupted abruptly, not looking at him. "Do you think she’s alright?"


    James blinked. "Sir?"


    "Eliana," Rafael said, as if it were the most natural question in the world. "Do you think she’s okay at the house?"


    James stared at his boss. It wasn’t the question itself that shocked him—it was the rawness in Rafael’s voice. The concern. It didn’t fit.


    Before he could answer, the office door opened.


    And in came Mr Vexley Sr. Rafael’s father.


    "Rafael," the older man said, strolling in like he owned the ce. Which, once upon a time, he had.


    "I don’t remember inviting you in," Rafael muttered.


    "We were talking this morning—about Caleb getting a part of thepany. I thought we could finalize that now."


    "I am are not giving Caleb anything," Rafael snapped, turning sharply.


    Vexley Sr. lifted his brows. "You’re overreacting."


    "I’m not," Rafael growled. "You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You want him to have ess to mypanies so you can run everything through him—no."


    "Don’t be ridiculous—"


    "His mother tried to kill me," Rafael snarled. "She and your golden boy."


    James tensed.


    Vexley Sr’s face darkened. "Watch your mouth, boy."


    "Get out of my office," Rafael barked, rolling his chair forward. "Now."


    There was a long silence. Father and son stared at each other—well Rafael didn’t stare tantly. He looked at the general direction his father’s voice wasing from


    —Finally, with a scoff, Vexley Sr. turned and left.


    The moment the door closed behind him, Rafael exhaled slowly, his hands curling into fists.


    "James," he said.


    "Yes, sir."


    "Take me home."


    James nodded, puzzled but silent. <i>Why home? </i>he thought. Rafael never left work early. <i>And why did he keep circling back to Eliana? </i>As they drove, James stole nces at his boss, whose gaze was fixed out the window, his expression unreadable. Somewhere deep in Rafael’s mind, a voice—his secret friend’s—whispered, <i>She’s got you, Rafi.</i><i>And you don’t even see it.</i> Rafael’s heart thudded, a strange warmth curling in his chest. He needed to see her, to know she was safe. Somehow, that stubborn girl was bing his obsession—and it terrified him.