<h4>Chapter 81: Shadows at the Table</h4>


    Hours slipped away like sand through an hourss, yet the weight of the afternoon’s revtions still clung to Eliana’s chest. By the time the sun sank low, painting the city in molten gold, a sleek ck limousine glided to the entrance of La Lumière—an opulent restaurant perched on the edge of downtown’s glittering chaos.


    James sat behind the wheel, his n executed with his usual precision. He’d secured a secluded corner table with a perfect view of the skyline, the kind of detail only James ever thought of. Inside, the air was rich with the fragrance of fresh orchids,yered over the sizzling scent of gourmet dishes. Crystal sses chimed like soft bells, blending with the murmur of refined conversations.


    Rafael stepped out first, James at his side. His tall frame folded smoothly into the waiting wheelchair, every motion a performance honed to perfection. He leaned back, posture casual, eyes clouded in their practiced disguise. But beneath the veil of blindness, his sharp grey gaze swept the world around him, cataloguing everything with the precision of a man who missed nothing.


    Then he extended his hand.


    Eliana followed, her slender form transformed by the new dress James had delivered just an hour earlier and it was as though the dress had been waiting for her all along. Light blue silk clung to her skin like water, shimmering under La Lumière’s soft glow. The modest neckline drew attention to the soft curve of her shoulders, her warm brown skin catching the light like polished bronze. Waves of dark hair framed her heart-shaped face, and the delicate gold ne at her throat gleamed faintly, a small, unspoken promise.


    As they entered, hand in hand, the room seemed to pause. Rafael rolled in like a celebrity shrouded in mystery, his crisp designer suit tailored to perfection, exuding an aura of untouchable power. Whispers rippled through the diners like a wave, eyes darting toward the couple. "Is that Rafael Vexley? The recluse billionaire? Holding hands with... who is that?" murmured a woman at a nearby table, her voiceced with curiosity and a hint of envy.


    "Wait, isn’t she Eliana Bet? The adopted granddaughter of thete Keh Holloway? What on earth is she doing with him?" replied herpanion, leaning in closer.


    "Rumors have been flying for weeks now—that they’re dating. But seeing it... it’s like a fairy tale, or a scandal waiting to happen," another voice chimed in, barely a whisper.


    Eliana felt the heat of their stares, her brown eyes flickering nervously around the room. Her hand tightened in Rafael’s, seeking reassurance in his firm grip.


    "Eliana," Rafael said softly, his voice a low rumble meant only for her ears, "don’t look at them. Keep your eyes ahead. Hold your head high. You’re with me now—they’re just noise."


    She nodded, drawing a deep breath, her full pink lips curving into a determined smile. "Okay, Rafael. Just... ahead."


    Inside, at the reserved table draped in pristine white linen, Sarai and Bianca waited. Sarai, as always, looked impably put together—her ck hair styled in elegant waves, her red dress bold and form-fitting. But beneath the polished exterior, envy burned like acid in her veins as she watched the couple approach. What did she do to him? Sarai thought bitterly. They’ve known each other for what—a month? And he’s already wrapped around her finger like some lovesick fool.


    Bianca, seated beside her with her sharp features softened by makeup, noticed the scowl twisting Sarai’s face. She leaned over, her voice a hushed warning. "Sarai, fix your face. You look like you’re about to spit venom. Don’t let anyone see the hatred bubbling up. We have a n—stick to it."


    Sarai forced her expression into neutrality, stering on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "You’re right. Fine. Smiling now."


    As Rafael and Eliana reached the table, the exchange began like clockwork, all polished smiles and carefully measured words—the kind of performance that would fool anyone who hadn’t seen the ws beneath.


    Rafael guided Eliana’s chair back with a smooth, practiced ease, then maneuvered his wheelchair into ce beside her. He carried himself with the same quiet confidence as always, every gesture deliberate, every detail of his posture calcted to project control rather than limitation.


    "Sarai. Bianca," he greeted, his voice a velvet de—smooth,manding, impossible to ignore. Though his eyes appeared clouded, there was a weight to his stare that suggested he saw far more than anyone wanted him to.


    "Mr Rafael, Eliana—what a delight," Bianca chimed, her smile wide, her tone bright with the kind of warmth that came straight out of a socialite’s handbook. Her eyes sparkled, but the shine didn’t quite reach the edges.


    Sarai leaned forward, her voice honey-sweet, just shy of cloying. "Eliana, darling, I’m so d you came. After everything... well, it means the world to me. To see you sitting here, strong, radiant—it’s emotional, really."


    She pressed the napkin to the corner of her eye, dabbing at tears that appeared right on cue, as if she’d rehearsed them in a mirror. Her voice wavered just enough to sound convincing. "I can’t tell you how ashamed I am for the part I yed in breaking our beautiful sisterhood apart. But seeing you here, across the same table... sharing a meal with me—" she gave a shaky littleugh, eyes glistening, "you don’t know what that does to me. It means more than I can ever put into words."


    Eliana’s breath caught for a second, her gaze softening despite the instinctive edge of caution in her chest. She managed a small smile, the words careful but kind. "Thank you, Sarai. It’s... good to be here."


    The waiter appeared like a shadow on cue, pouring chilled wine that fogged the sses as menus were passed around. For a while, the talk stayed safe:pliments on the restaurant, murmurs about the city’stest scandal, a touch of idleughter. But then Rafael tilted the conversation, steering it firmly toward the reason they were gathered.


    "I wanted to thank you both," he said, voice low but unwavering, every syble threaded with intent. There was no sarcasm this time—just a dangerous sincerity that cut through the small talk. "You saved Eliana’s life during the kidnapping. For that, I owe you more than words. Consider this dinner the smallest gesture of gratitude."


    Sarai’s hand flicked dismissively, her smile never faltering. "Oh, Mr Rafael, really—it was nothing. We did what anyone would’ve done. Eliana’s practically a sister to me."


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    Bianca nodded eagerly, her agreement almost too quick. "Exactly. We’re just d she’s safe. That’s all that matters."


    Sarai leaned in, her tone turning conspiratorial. "And Mr Rafael, I have to say, I’m so happy to see how well you’re taking care of her. You’re such a good man—truly."


    Rafael chuckled softly, a sound that held more irony than amusement. "A good man? No, Sarai, I wouldn’t go that far. Everything I’ve done—every gesture, every protection—it’s all because of the deep love I have for Eliana. I hope, one day, she’lle to love me back just as fiercely."


    Eliana’s cheeks flushed a deep rose, her gaze dropping to herp as warmth spread through her. "Rafael... you don’t have to say that."


    Across the table, Sarai swallowed hard, her fingers itching with the suppressed urge to grab Eliana by her curly hair and yank until blood welled up. ’How dare she?’ she seethed inwardly.


    Bianca, meanwhile, plotted silently, her mind racing. She pulled out her phone discreetly under the table, typing a quick message to Sarai: <i>’</i><strong><i>Take Eliana to the restroom or something. Need alone time with Rafael to work our n.’ </i></strong>


    Sarai’s phone buzzed softly. She nced at it, then looked up with a friendly smile. "Eliana, would you mind escorting me to thedies’ room? I could use a quick freshen-up, and it’d be nice to chat just us for a moment."


    Rafael’s hand tensed under the table, brushing against Eliana’s knee in a subtle signal—a discreet plea for her to refuse. "Eliana, perhaps—"


    But Eliana, who had been harboring her own need for a private word with Sarai, smiled politely. "Of course, Sarai. I’d be happy to."


    Rafael’s expression remained neutral, but inside, dissatisfaction churned. "Alright then. Don’t be long."


    As the two women slipped away from the table, Bianca lingered, her expression shifting into something more serious. She leaned in, lowering her voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. "Mr. Rafael," she began, a crease of concern etched between her brows, "I just can’t wrap my head around it. After everything that happened... the kidnapping. And yet, you and Eliana have done nothing? Letting the person responsible walk free, living his life as if nothing ever happened? Honestly, it’s shocking."


    Rafael’s jaw flexed, the sharp line of muscle ticking beneath his skin. He leaned forward in his chair, voice even but edged with steel. "Bianca. Do you have any idea who ordered Eliana’s kidnapping?"


    Her eyes widened with feigned innocence,shes fluttering as if the very thought startled her. "Why, it was Jason, wasn’t it? Eliana knows that as well as I do. That’s why I’m so surprised you’ve done nothing. No police, no charges, not even the slightest move for justice."


    Rafael’s face hardened, anger locking his jaw tight. His steel-grey eyes, hidden beneath the mask of blindness, narrowed like a de finding its mark.