《His Bride in Chains》


 Chapter 1: Left Behind

    <h4>Chapter 1: Left Behind</h4>


    "I hate this miserable life, Frank!"


    Mirabel¡¯s shriek cracked the early morning calm, echoing like a scream in a canyon. The sun hadn¡¯t yet broken fully over Brookend, but their tiny home was already aze with fury.


    "You hear me? I hate it! I hate this crumbling house. I hate waking up every morning to the sound of rats in the walls. I hate the stench of garbage and sweat that follows you around like a damn shadow!" Her voice was ragged, wild with years of pent-up rage.


    Frank Bet stood at the foot of the stairs, shoulders tense beneath his faded work shirt, hands trembling around a chipped ceramic mug. The steam from his untouched coffee curled up uselessly into the chilly air, ignored and unwanted¡ªjust like him.


    "Mirabel, please¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t ¡¯please¡¯ me, Frank!" she snapped, whipping around with eyes zing. "I was somebody before I met you. I had dreams. I had offers. I was going ces. But you¡ª" she stabbed a finger in his direction¡ª"you dragged me down into this pit and convinced me it was home!"


    "You said you loved me," Frank murmured, voice cracking.


    Mirabelughed, short and bitter. "Love? God, how pathetic. I must¡¯ve been out of my mind."


    She spun toward the hallway, where a glossy red suitcase waited like a silent aplice. Her heels clicked furiously across the floorboards as she grabbed the handle, her scarlet coat swirling behind her like a me set to burn the past.


    Little Eliana, only four, crouched behind the half-closed hallway door, a threadbare teddy clutched tight to her chest. Her big honey-brown eyes peeked through the crack, wide and trembling.


    Frank noticed her and took a single step forward. "Mirabel... Eliana. Don¡¯t leave her."


    Mirabel paused by the threshold, one manicured hand smoothing down her silky scarf. She looked back, not at Frank, but at the tiny figure hiding in the shadows.


    "At least say goodbye to her," Frank said, almost choking on the words. "Don¡¯t just disappear."


    With a roll of her eyes and a sigh sharp enough to draw blood, Mirabel crouched¡ªjust for a moment. "Be a good girl," she said to Eliana, her voice devoid of any warmth. No kiss. No hug. Just a few cold, brittle words she¡¯d likely forget before noon.


    Then she stood and walked out.


    The door shut behind her with a hollow bang¡ªthe kind that doesn¡¯t just close, but seals something in. Or out.


    And for the rest of her life, Eliana would remember that sound¡ªnot the words, not the suitcase, not the coat¡ªbut that final bang, echoing in her chest like a wound that never quite healed.


    <strong>Six Years Later...</strong>


    "God, this hill again," Frank Bet muttered under his breath, muscles straining as he pushed the rusty handle of his garbage cart up the steep incline of Elston Avenue. The morning was barely awake¡ªjust a pale smear of sun brushing against the rooftops¡ªyet sweat was already beading on his brow.


    The air smelled of city dust, old banana peels, and engine grease. Flies buzzedzily near the dumpsters, and the asphalt shimmered with dew that hadn¡¯t yet evaporated. But Frank didn¡¯tin.


    He never did.


    His hands, hardened and cracked, bore the story of every hard-earned coin. His faded navy uniform clung to him in all the wrong ces, seams worn out, the badge over his chest barely readable: <strong><i>Frank B. </i></strong>Still, he wore it with a quiet kind of dignity. As if the name stitched there was more than thread¡ªlike it stood for something that mattered.


    At the corner of Elston, just beneath a crooked streemp humming with tired electricity, he paused beside an overflowing dumpster. The lid hung open, cockeyed and defiant. A ck garbage bag, partly torn, spilled open onto the pavement.


    Curious, Frank nudged it gently with his stick.


    Clink.


    It didn¡¯t seem like the sound of tin cans or leftover bones. This was... heavier. Delicate.


    Frowning, Frank bent down, peeled the stic bag open¡ªand gasped.


    Inside the torn bag was a velvet-lined box, the kind that belonged in grand ss cases and private safes. Nestled within, jewelry sparkled like spilled stars. Sapphire nes tangled with ruby-studded bracelets. Diamond earrings winked beneath the morning light like secrets. And there, tucked against the edge of the box, was a brown leather wallet¡ªsleek, polished and expensive.


    Frank¡¯s heart pounded as he picked it up with trembling fingers. He flipped it open.


    <strong>Keh Holloway.</strong>


    The ID practically screamed wealth¡ªgovernment-issued, crisp, with an address printed in bold letters: <strong>Hyde Crescent</strong>. This was the kind of neighborhood with fountains instead of flowerpots. With gates taller than his dreams.


    Frank looked around.


    Nothing. No footsteps. No voices. No cameras. The street was still.


    He nced back at the treasure in his hands. His mind raced. What if someone sees me? What if they think I stole it? What if I take it to the police and and they make it disappear?


    His stomach twisted. He couldn¡¯t afford risk. Not with Eliana depending on him for every grain of rice, every used schoolbook, every secondhand shoe. She was only ten¡ªbut already wiser than most grown men and women. Too wise, in truth.


    Frank whispered a quiet prayer under his breath and, after wrapping the box in an old towel from his cart, tucked the wallet carefully into his chest pocket.


    Then he started walking.

 Chapter 2: Rewards of Kindness

    <h4>Chapter 2: Rewards of Kindness</h4>


    Hyde Crescent. It looked like something pulled from a fairytale¡ªand not the cheerful kind. Towering wrought-iron gates, manicured driveway, and a marble lion perched atop each gatepost, watching with stone-cold judgment. Frank stepped forward slowly, his boots far too loud on the polished brick walkway.


    Two guards emerged, dressed in tailored ck suits that screamed money and muscle. Both looked him over like he was something scraped off the bottom of a shoe.


    Frank cleared his throat. "Mornin¡¯. I... uh... I think I found something that belongs to your boss."


    One of the guards raised an eyebrow. "Who are you?"


    Frank reached into his pocket, slowly, and held out the wallet. "I¡¯m nobody, really. Just a man tryin¡¯ to do what¡¯s right."


    They exchanged a nce.


    The taller guard pressed a finger to his earpiece and murmured something.


    Momentster, the great oak doors of Holloway Manor swung open.


    Out strode an older man in an open silk robe and velvet slippers, gray hair tousled from sleep and sky blue eyes wild with worry.


    "Where is it?" His voice cracked as he came down the steps, robe pping behind him like a battle g.


    Frank stepped forward and held out the towel-wrapped bundle.


    The old man took it with shaking hands, peeling the fabric back until the velvet box peeked through. His breath caught. For a long, fragile moment, all he did was stare.


    "This..." His voice broke. "This belonged to my wife. God rest her soul."


    He pressed the box to his chest, eyes shimmering. "She wore these on our wedding day. I thought¡ªI thought they were gone forever."


    Frank shifted, ufortable. "Found it down by Elston. Half-spilled outta a torn bag. I figured... it didn¡¯t belong there."


    Mr. Holloway looked up slowly, eyes searching Frank¡¯s face like he couldn¡¯t quite believe what he was seeing. "You have no idea what this means to me."


    He turned abruptly to the guards. "Let him in! Bring this man breakfast! Tea! Coffee! Anything he wants!"


    Frank raised both hands, shaking his head. "No need, sir. I didn¡¯te for all that. Just wanted to give it back."


    "Nonsense!" Mr. Holloway stepped closer, his presencemanding despite the slippers. "You must let me reward you."


    "I can¡¯t ept anything¡ª"


    "I insist."


    Frank hesitated, stepping back.


    Mr. Holloway raised his chin. "Please. At least let me show my gratitude. Name it. Anything."


    Frank looked down at his worn boots, the calluses on his hands aching just a little more than usual.


    He sighed.


    "Well... my daughter. Eliana. She¡¯s ten. Bright as a me, that one. Reads books three times her age. But..." He swallowed. "I can¡¯t afford a school that¡¯d give her a real shot. Not the kind she deserves."


    Mr. Holloway¡¯s eyes lit up.


    "Done."


    Frank blinked. "I¡ªI wasn¡¯t asking for¡ª"


    "But you were," the old man said gently, a smile creeping across his lined face. "And she deserves it. Because of you."


    Frank¡¯s voice faltered. "You mean it?"


    "With all my heart," Mr. Holloway nodded. "Send her here tomorrow. I¡¯ll take care of everything. Uniforms, tuition, books, tutors¡ªwhatever she needs."


    Frank stood in stunned silence, lips parting, chest tight with something he hadn¡¯t felt in years.


    Hope.


    And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that maybe life still had room for miracles.


    *********


    <strong>One Week Later</strong>


    "Hold still, baby. Just one more tuck..."


    Frank Bet¡¯s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the cor of Eliana¡¯s crisp white shirt. The uniform was wless¡ªnavy zer, pleated skirt, gold-stitched emblem over her heart. Her shoes were polished, socks pulled to perfection, and the brand-new backpack on her shoulders still smelled like the store it came from.


    Eliana stood motionless at the gates of St. Davina¡¯s Academy for Excellence, clutching her father¡¯s hand like she was afraid to let go.


    The gates loomed tall, gilded and ornate, as if daring her to walk through them. Beyond them stretched manicuredwns, elegant stone buildings, and children who looked like they¡¯d stepped out of glossy magazine ads. Chauffeur-driven cars idled at the curb, their engines purring like pampered cats. Girls with glossy curls and boys with perfectly knotted ties strode past,ughing, chattering, utterly at ease.


    Eliana was not.


    Her fingers curled tighter around Frank¡¯s rough, callused palm. "Papa..." Her voice came out in a whisper. "Are you sure I can go here?"


    Frank dropped to one knee so he could look her in the eye.


    That eye. Those eyes. Warm honey-brown, just like her mama¡¯s.


    He smiled through the ache in his chest, brushing a wild curl from her cheek. "Mr. Holloway said this is your school now, baby. He said they¡¯re lucky to have you. And I believe him."


    She bit her lip. "But I¡¯m not like them."


    "You¡¯re better than them," Frank said gently. "You¡¯ve got heart. You¡¯ve got fire. You¡¯ve earned every step forward you take from now on."


    She nodded, just barely, then turned toward the gate. She took a deep breath and then a small step.


    And just like that, Eliana Bet walked into a world that had never made room for girls like her¡ªuntil now.


    That very same day, in the marble-floored halls of St. Davina¡¯s, Eliana¡¯s path crossed with two names that would forever carve themselves into her story:


    Jason Asher¡ªwith his boyish smirk, wind-blown hair, and an effortless confidence that annoyed and intrigued in equal measure. He wore his zer like it was armor and walked like he ruled the halls even at age ten.


    Sarai Monroe¡ªpoised, polished, and painfully perfect. Her voice like sugar-dipped steel, her lip gloss always wless, her books always color-coded. She was a year younger than Eliana and Jason.


    The three were an unlikely trio¡ªbut something about them just clicked. A spark in the quiet chaos of adolescence.


    By the week¡¯s end, teachers had dubbed them The Golden Trio.


    Jason taught Eliana how to y chess beneath the wide branches of the old mango tree near the library. He was ruthless with his pieces but soft when he looked at her. Sarai, with her endless supply of charm and lip gloss, showed Eliana how to carry herself like a queen without needing a crown.


    And Eliana¡ªEliana gave them something rarer. She gave them her warmth. Her loyalty. Her stories. Herughter.


    And in time... her heart.


    Though both girls nursed quiet, growing feelings for Jason, it was Eliana¡¯s gentle fire that drew him in. Herughter. Her honesty. Her way of seeing light in ces others wouldn¡¯t dare look.


    By sixteen, Jason was brushing fingers against Eliana¡¯s palm under the table in ss, slipping her notes that made her blush, and walking her home afterte study sessions. He still smiled at Sarai¡ªhe always had¡ªbut behind that smile now lived a shadow of guilt.


    Sarai smiled back. Of course she did.


    But her silence was thunder waiting for a sky.


    Outside the gates, Keh Holloway had be more than a benefactor¡ªhe was a force in Eliana¡¯s life. <i>"My granddaughter by fate," </i>he¡¯d call her proudly at dinner parties, in magazine interviews, and to anyone rich enough to listen.


    He came to every birthday, every recital, every ceremony, bearing glittering gifts wrapped in satin ribbons. When Eliana turned eleven, he told Frank to give up his garbage route.


    "I¡¯ve seen the way people look at you," he said, not unkindly. "Let them see you the way I do."


    He handed Frank the deed to a tiny but sturdy mini-supermarket at the edge of town. Nothing fancy, but it was clean, it was his, and it brought in enough to pay for groceries without worry.


    And for the first time in their lives, Frank and Eliana didn¡¯t just have dreams.


    They had options.


    Eliana bloomed.


    She moved through the world with a kind of grace that couldn¡¯t be taught. Her curls bounced with every step. Herughter became the sound of the hallways. She was the girl who shared her lunch when others were hungry, who stood up even when it wasn¡¯t popr, who looked people in the eye and made them feel seen.


    And always, somewhere close, was Jason¡ªwalking beside her,cing his fingers through hers when no one was watching, kissing her forehead when they were alone, whispering promises that only the young believe forever.


    Frank watched from the storefront window as they walked past every afternoon. He¡¯d wave with a smile, the one that reached all the way to his eyes.


    He¡¯d made peace with the past. He¡¯d made a life for them.


    And for a long, golden while, it felt like the universe had finally said: <i>You¡¯ve earned this.</i>


    But life has a habit of changing its mind.


    Eliana turned twenty-two in early spring.


    And just when the world seemed settled in her favor¡ª


    Just when the dust had cleared, the pain had faded, and the stars finally aligned¡ª


    Everything changed.

 Chapter 3: Not as it Seems

    <h4>Chapter 3: Not as it Seems</h4>


    There was a time when life seemed to smile at Eliana with every breath she took.


    At twenty-two, she glided through life with the effortless grace of a queen who knew the world was already hers. Her curls were longer now, falling down her back in wild ck waves that bounced softly with each step. Her honey-brown eyes carried the wisdom of old pain, but they still burned with that bright, stubborn light that refused to die out.


    She was in her second year of college, studying Nursing. Her days blurred into a dance of early morning caf¨¦ runs, crowded lecture halls, group presentations, and volunteering at the children¡¯s hospital on weekends. Every morning before ss, her father always called to tell her she was his sunshine. Keh Holloway (her adopted grandfather) still introduced her to guests as "my granddaughter by fate," and her two best friends¡ªJason and Sarai¡ªkept her grounded when life felt overwhelming.


    The three of them went to the same college. Jason was a Business major, more interested in socialising than studying. Sarai, on the other hand, floated through her Psychology sses like a queen, building her social media empire in between assignments. They all lived together in a fancy private hostel twenty minutes from school,plete with a private cook, cleaner, and chauffeur. From the outside, Eliana¡¯s life looked untouchable: the golden girl dating the golden boy, blessed with golden friends and golden opportunities.


    But the thing about gold? It cracks under pressure.


    It was a chilly Thursday evening when Eliana found herself sitting alone on a metal bench outside their hostel, hugging her knees as the spring breeze wrapped its cold fingers around her. The sky above was painted in streaks of dusty purple and navy blue, the streetlights flickering on one by one like sleepy fireflies.


    She checked her phone for the third time in sixty seconds. Nothing. No texts. No missed calls.


    Eliana and Jason were supposed to meet an hour ago to study for their uing maths exams. Jason had promised he¡¯d help her revise¡ªeven though he never remembered anything about their joined sses or professors.


    "Maybe he¡¯s stuck in traffic," she whispered to herself, though her heart knew better. He always called when he was stuck. Always.


    Another ten minutes crawled by, each second dripping heavier than thest. Then her phone buzzed.


    <strong>Jason: </strong><i>Hey babe. Change of ns. Having dinner with the guys. We¡¯ll study tomorrow. Love u ??</i>


    Eliana stared at the screen. Her throat closed up, burning with disappointment that she was tired of tasting. She typed quickly, fingers trembling.


    <i>But Jason... my exam is tomorrow.</i>


    The typing bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.


    <strong>Jason:</strong><i>You¡¯ll be fine, El. You¡¯re the smartest girl I know. ??</i>


    She swallowed hard, blinking away tears as she typed back: <i>Okay. Have fun.</i>


    The moment she pressed send, the hostel doors opened behind her, spilling out warm yellow light. Sarai stepped out, her sleek hair pulled into a perfect low bun, emerald earrings catching the glow like tiny stars.


    "Baby," Sarai called out, her brows knitting into a frown. "Why are you out here alone? I thought Jason was helping you study tonight."


    Eliana forced a small smile, hugging her textbook tighter to her chest. "Yeah... he¡¯s busy with his friends. We¡¯ll study tomorrow."


    Sarai rolled her eyes, the heel of her strappy satin shoes cking sharply against the pavement as she walked over. "Honestly, Eliana. You let him get away with everything."


    "He¡¯s just... tired," Eliana murmured, her voice sounding so small. "He¡¯s been busytely."


    "Busy doing what? ying pool and drinking overpriced whiskey shots?" Sarai scoffed softly, shaking her head. "You deserve better than this."


    Even though they were all best friends, Sarai never hid how much she disliked the way Jason treated Eliana. And she never missed a chance to remind Eliana of what she was worth. But Eliana never listened.


    Later that weekend, Jason did what he always did when he stood her up¡ªhe made it up to her.


    She was curled up in the library, surrounded by handwritten notes thaty scattered around her like fallen autumn leaves. She was scribbling so fast she didn¡¯t hear him walk in. Without warning, his arm draped over her shoulders from behind, and he pressed a warm kiss to her temple.


    "Don¡¯t do that," she gasped, pressing a palm to her chest as her heart thundered, not just from being surprised but also just by being near him. "You scared me."


    "Sorry, sorry," heughed, sliding into the chair beside her. His hazel eyes dazzled with mischievous intent. "How¡¯s my beautiful genius girlfriend doing?"


    Eliana tried to hold onto her annoyance, but Jason¡¯s grin was always too infectious. "I barely passed, Jason. You promised you¡¯d help me."


    He pouted dramatically, leaning in so close she could smell his cologne¡ªwoody, rich, intoxicating. "I know. I¡¯m sorry, babe. Here."


    From his pocket, he pulled out a small red box. Insidey a dainty silver bracelet, a tiny heart charm dangling from its chain.


    Her chest ached as her eyes watered. "Jason..."


    "Bought it when I was out with the guys," he said casually, though she saw the way his eyes flicked up, eagerly drinking in her reaction. "Saw it and thought of you."


    Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading like melted chocte. Her anger slipped away, reced by that soft, helpless smile she always gave him. "It¡¯s beautiful. Thank you."


    "Anything for my girl," he murmured, pressing another kiss to her cheek.


    And just like that, everything was forgiven. Again.


    But the truth was, the cycle never stopped. It only got worse, deepening its roots in her heart with every sweet word and broken promise.

 Chapter 4: Never Letting Go

    <h4>Chapter 4: Never Letting Go</h4>


    Three years ago, Eliana¡¯s world began to shift in ways she couldn¡¯t understand.


    It started subtly at first ¨C her fathering home from work looking unusually pale, wiping sweat off his brow with trembling hands. Then came the fever. The kind that burned through him like wildfire, leaving him weak and delirious in bed for days. Every time it struck, he would end up in the hospital, hooked up to IV drips and monitors that beeped through the night.


    But what gnawed at Eliana¡¯s soul the most wasn¡¯t the fever itself ¨C it was the secrets. Her adopted grandfather, whom she loved calling "Papa H" since she was little, always took charge whenever her father fell ill. He would stride into the house with his quiet authority, instructing doctors and nurses, slipping into her father¡¯s hospital room with an expression carved from stone.


    Whenever Eliana begged her father to tell her what was wrong with him, he would just ruffle her hair with a sad smile and say, "Don¡¯t worry, angel. It¡¯s just a fever. I¡¯ll be fine."


    And when she turned to Papa H, tears brimming in her eyes, pleading for answers, he would only pat her cheek gently. "It¡¯s nothing serious, my child. Go home and rest."


    But Eliana wasn¡¯t stupid. She could see the truth in the silent nces they exchanged behind her back, the way her father winced when he thought she wasn¡¯t looking. They were hiding something from her ¨C something big.


    Then came the day that broke her heart in a way she never thought possible.


    She was studyingte at the College library when her phone buzzed with an iing call from one of the maids at home.


    <i>"Miss Eliana,"</i> the woman whispered, voice shaking,<i> "your father... he copsed. They¡¯re taking him to the hospital right now."</i>


    Her books slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor. Her vision blurred with tears as fear tore through her chest. Even though this wasn¡¯t the first time, it felt different. More terrifying. She was trembling so badly that her first instinct was to call Jason.


    She needed him more than she needed air right now. She needed his strong arms around her, grounding her when her knees threatened to buckle. She needed his fingers in her hair, his deep voice whispering in her ear that everything would be alright, even if it was a lie.


    <i>"Jason,"</i> she choked out when he finally answered her call, her sobs shaking her chest. <i>"It¡¯s my dad... they rushed him to the hospital again. Please... can youe with me? I can¡¯t go alone."</i>


    There was a pause, long enough to crack her already breaking heart. Then he sighed. <i>"Yeah... I¡¯lle. Give me a few minutes."</i>


    But he didn¡¯te.


    Minutes slipped away, each one dragging her deeper into despair until an entire hour had crawled by. She sat alone on the hostel steps, her shoulders shaking, her tears dripping onto the cracked concrete beneath her feet. Her phone was clenched so tightly in her trembling hands that her knuckles turned white. Still, no Jason.


    Eventually, with her cheeks raw from crying, she forced herself to stand up and go alone. Sarai wasn¡¯t around ¨C she¡¯d travelled out of town for a family emergency ¨C so there was no one else to call.


    The hospital air was harsh and cold, heavy with antiseptic and fear. Her fathery hooked up to machines again, tubes snaking around his fragile body, his chest rising and falling so softly it terrified her. Papa H was there too, quietly speaking with the doctors, but no one told her anything. They only fed her the same tired lie: "It¡¯s just a fever."


    When her father finally stabilised, Eliana slipped out of his room, her legs numb with exhaustion and relief. She found a metal bench near the entrance and sat there, staring out into the darkness, waiting for Jason to arrive and hold her like she needed.


    Hours passed, and then, close to midnight, her phone buzzed.


    <strong>Jason: </strong><i>Sorry babe. I¡¯m too tired. Had a ss meeting. Going home to sleep. Love you.</i>


    The disappointment was sharp and brutal, slicing through her chest like ss. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she didn¡¯tsh out. She had never been that girl. Instead, she typed back with trembling fingers:


    <strong>Eliana:</strong><i>Okay. Please rest well. Don¡¯t skip dinner.</i>


    The next day, he turned up at her hostel, grinning with that boyish smile that always melted her. He carried a bouquet of half-wilted roses and caramel choctes. Without a word, he tickled her until sheughed through her tears, then kissed them away with soft, apologetic lips.


    And just like that, she forgave him.


    Of course she did.


    But things only grew worse.


    For their seventh-year anniversary, Eliana wanted to create something unforgettable. She sent the cook away from the hostel kitchen and spent the entire afternoon preparing creamy chicken pasta with garlic bread and the wobbly chocte mousse Jason always teased her about. She set the table with flickering candles, her heart racing with excitement.


    He arrived three hourste, reeking of alcohol, his eyes zed. He barely nced at the food before pulling her into bed, his drunken apologies muffled against her neck. In the morning, she woke up alone, the sheets cold beside her. But there, on her pillow, was a crumpled piece of paper with a childish doodle ¨C stick figure Jason on his knees, apologising to stick figure Eliana with a sad face.


    She clutched it to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks, convinced it meant he truly loved her.


    But love, she was slowly realising, shouldn¡¯t feel like this. It shouldn¡¯t hurt this way.


    Then came the night Sarai finally snapped.


    They were curled up together on Eliana¡¯s bed, towels wrapped around their damp hair after ate shower, their legs tangled under the nkets. Sarai was scrolling through her phone, her jaw tight with anger.


    "Baby," she said suddenly, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage, "did you know Jason was with another girlst night? A brte from Business Admin. I saw them at Wildwood. She was practically sitting on hisp."


    Eliana froze. Her chest clenched painfully, bile rising in her throat. "You¡¯re lying," she whispered.


    "I¡¯m not," Sarai snapped, her green eyes zing. "He lied to you again. You said he was at the library. He wasn¡¯t, Eliana. He¡¯s cheating on you."


    Her lips trembled. "She¡¯s probably just a friend¡ª"


    "Stop!" Sarai threw her phone aside and red at her, furious tears brimming in her eyes. "When will you stop making excuses for him? You¡¯re so desperate to be loved that you¡¯re blind to the fact that he doesn¡¯t deserve you."


    "Sarai, don¡¯t say that," Eliana whispered, hugging her knees tighter against her chest. Tears streamed down her face as her voice cracked. "He just needs time. He¡¯ll change. I know he will."


    "Dump him," Sarai said coldly, her voice like ice. "He¡¯s my friend, but he¡¯s trash. You¡¯re better than this."


    "No." Eliana¡¯s voice was quiet but unbreakable, despite her tears. "No. I love him. He just... he just needs me to be patient."


    Sarai stood abruptly, grabbing her Chanel purse from the desk before storming towards the door. "You¡¯re pathetic," she hissed under her breath and mmed the door behind her.


    Silence closed in around Eliana like a suffocating nket. She sat there for a long time, staring at the silver bracelet Jason had given her. Its cold metal bit into her palm as sobs racked her body.


    But eventually, she wiped her tears away. She wasn¡¯t going to give up on him.


    She still believed love meant holding on ¨C even when it broke you.


    She wasn¡¯t like her mother, who walked away when life got too hard.


    No. Eliana would stay.


    Even if it shattered her.


    Because to her, that was love.


    And she was never going to let it go.

 Chapter 5: Not One of Us

    <h4>Chapter 5: Not One of Us</h4>


    Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Jason Asher¡¯s penthouse, perched high above the bustling streets, the city skyline glittered like a king¡¯s crown under the night sky. From up here the chaos below felt like a distant memory. The ce screamed luxury¡ªpolished ck marble floors that reflected the dim golden lights, a massive leather sectional scattered with soft cashmere throws, and a sleek bar lined with bottles that probably cost more than most people made in a month. The air was choking with the sharp scent of expensive cologne, mingling with the raw, musky remnants of sex, making the room feel both intoxicating and forbidden.


    On the king-sized bed, silk sheetsy twisted around two naked bodies, Jason and Sarai moving together with a kind of wild, desperate energy¡ªlike two people who knew exactly how many rules they were breaking but didn¡¯t care in the slightest. Sarai¡¯s glossy jet-ck hair spilled across the pillows, her sharp green eyes half-lidded with pleasure as she arched beneath Jason. Her manicured nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons on his gym-toned skin. Jason¡¯s blonde hair was damp with sweat, his hazel eyes glinting with a mix of lust and arrogance as he leaned down, his lips grazing her ear, whispering something that made herugh¡ªa low, sultry sound that echoed in the softly lit room.


    The headboard mmed against the wall in a steady rhythm, like a dark, twisted timekeeper counting out the beat of their betrayal. Outside, the city lights flickered through the windows, washing the room in fleeting golds and silvers that danced across their bodies. Shadows caressed the smooth curve of Sarai¡¯s spine as she arched beneath him, while Jason¡¯s muscles tightened and flexed with every powerful thrust of his cock, his hands gripping the sheets like he was holding onto hisst threads of sanity.


    Their breaths came out in sharp, ragged gasps that filled the room with the raw sound of lustful desires and guilt tangled together. The moment built and built, a feverish climax that felt like it might tear them both apart. And then, finally, they copsed against each other in a trembling heap, hearts pounding, chests heaving, the silk bedsheets sticking to their sweat-slicked skin as the city watched silently from beyond the ss.


    For a moment, theyy there, the only sound around them was the faint hum of the city below and their uneven breathing. Then Sarai stirred, her fingers trailingzily across Jason¡¯s chest, tracing the lines of his muscles with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession. Her touch was soft but deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. She propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in a sleek curtain over one shoulder, her lips curved in a pout that was equal parts seductive and calcting.


    "Jason," she murmured, her voice honeyed but edged with urgency, "when are you going to stop this charade? When will you break up with her? You don¡¯t need Eliana. You have me." Her fingers paused, circling a spot just above his heart, as if she could im it with her touch alone.


    Jason groaned, not from desire this time, but from exasperation, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The crystal chandelier above glinted mockingly, reflecting the mess of their after sex. "Sarai, we¡¯ve been over this. I¡¯m not breaking up with Eliana. Not now, not ever." His voice was firm, but there was a petnt edge to it, like a child refusing to share a toy.


    Sarai¡¯s green eyes narrowed, and she sat up, the sheet slipping to reveal the curve of her corbone, the faint shimmer of her skin from the expensive body oil she always wore. "Why not?" she demanded, her voice rising. "We¡¯ve been doing this for five years, Jason. Five years of sneaking around, of me waiting for you to finally choose me. I¡¯m better than her. My family¡¯s rich, connected¡ªway more than hers ever will be. You and I make sense. We¡¯re the same kind of people."


    Jason snorted, a sound that was both amused and dismissive. He propped himself up on his elbows, his hazel eyes glinting with something cold. "Your family¡¯s rich, sure, but they¡¯re not Keh Holloway rich. Nobody is." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know how much my parents want in on his circle. They¡¯ve been kissing up to him for years, and Eliana¡¯s the key. She¡¯s his little princess, adopted or not. They¡¯d kill me if I let her go."


    Sarai¡¯s lips tightened into a thin line, her fingers curling into the sheets. "But you don¡¯t even love her anymore," she pressed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "You told me yourself¡ªtwo years into your rtionship, you found out she¡¯s not even his real granddaughter. She¡¯s a fraud, Jason. The daughter of a garbage collector, pretending to be one of us. I¡¯m the one who told you the truth, remember? Eliana lied to us about who she was. She doesn¡¯t belong in our world."


    Jason¡¯s jaw clenched, a flicker of something¡ªguilt, maybe¡ªcrossing his face before it was swallowed by indifference. He sat up fully, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his back to her. The muscles in his shoulders tensed, and he ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair. "Yeah, you told me. And yeah, I was pissed. Back when we were eighteen, I thought I loved her. She was sweet, innocent, all that crap. But then you dropped that bomb about her dad being some nobody, and it changed everything. I¡¯m well aware she¡¯s not one of us, Sarai. She¡¯s... beneath us. But my parents don¡¯t care about that. They sat me down, told me to stick with her no matter what. Keh Holloway¡¯s money is worth more than her sob story."


    Sarai slid closer, her hand reaching for his arm, her touch insistent. "Then why keep up the act? My family¡¯s not chump change, Jason. We could make things happen¡ªbusiness deals, connections, everything your parents want. You don¡¯t need Eliana for that. You could have me, openly, no more hiding. We¡¯re perfect together."


    Jasonughed, a sharp, humorless sound that filled the room like dry ice. He shoved her hand off his arm, not gently, and stood, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor. "Perfect? Come on, Sarai. Your family¡¯s got money, but it¡¯s pocket changepared to Holloway. Until you¡¯re swimming in <i>his</i> kind of cash, Eliana¡¯s my ticket. Besides..." He paused, pulling his shirt over his head, his voice softening into something almost wistful. "I still like her, okay? Yes she¡¯s boring as hell, always ying the goody-two-shoes, but there¡¯s something about her. She¡¯s... easy. She forgives me every time I screw up. What¡¯s not to like about that?"


    Sarai¡¯s face twisted, her green eyes zing with a fury she could barely contain. She leaned back against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to her chest, her body rigid with anger. "You¡¯re pathetic," she spat, echoing the words she¡¯d hurled at Eliana just days ago. "You¡¯re stringing her along because she¡¯s too weak to leave you, and you¡¯re too weak to let go of Holloway¡¯s money. You¡¯re not even man enough to choose what you really want."


    Jason spun around, his hazel eyes shing with irritation. "Don¡¯t start with me, Sarai. I¡¯m not in the mood. And don¡¯t ever tell me to break up with Eliana again. You know the deal. We have fun, we keep it quiet, and I stay with her. End of story." He zipped up his jeans, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and headed for the door. "I¡¯m going back to the hostel. She¡¯s been blowing up my phone all night, whining about her dad or whatever. I can¡¯t deal with her crying right now."


    Sarai stayed silent, her jaw clenched, her fingers digging into the sheets as she watched him leave. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the tangled mess of their betrayal. She was still naked, the cool air of the penthouse raising goosebumps on her skin, but the chill in her chest was colder. Her eyes burned with determination, her mind racing with ns.


    She wasn¡¯t going to let this go. Not Jason, not her pride, not her vision of a future where she was the one on his arm, not some garbage collector¡¯s daughter. Sarai Monroe always got what she wanted, no matter who she had to destroy to get it. And Eliana? Poor, naive Eliana, with her hopeful smiles and her pathetic loyalty, was about to learn just how far Sarai was willing to go.


    She slid out of bed, her movements graceful despite the storm raging inside her. As she reached for her silk robe, her lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. She¡¯d find a way to break them up. Even if it destroyed Elianapletely.

 Chapter 6: A Dream on Her Finger

    <h4>Chapter 6: A Dream on Her Finger</h4>


    Thete afternoon sun streamed through the tall, arched windows of the private hostel, a grand, ivy-draped mansion where Eliana, Jason, and Sarai lived as college students. The golden light spilled across the shiny floors of the sprawling living room, glinting off theplex chandelier that hung like a constetion above. Eliana sat on a plush luxurious sofa, her slender frame wrapped in a soft woven sweater, a gift from her adopted grandfather, whose vast wealth had lifted her from a life of struggle to one of privilege. Her brown eyes, usually warm with hope, were clouded with grief, and her long, curly ck hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face, now etched with pain. The faint scent ofvender from the maid¡¯s cleaning lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of the chef¡¯s rosemary-roasted chicken wafting from the kitchen. Yet, inside Eliana¡¯s chest, a storm of hurt churned.


    Two days ago, at a college fundraiser, Eliana had overheard something that shattered her heart. It wasn¡¯t Jason¡¯s voice that had wounded her, but his silence. His wealthy friends, gathered in a corner of the opulent venue, had been mocking her past, their voices dripping with scorn. "She¡¯s just Keh Holloway¡¯s charity project," one had sneered, his wine ss glinting in the light. "Her dad¡¯s some sick nobody, leeching off Mr Holloway. And Eliana? She¡¯s just going about performing a fake princess act." The others hadughed, their cruel chuckles echoing, but what pierced Eliana most was Jason¡ªher Jason, the boy she¡¯d loved since childhood¡ªstanding there, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he joined theirughter. He hadn¡¯t said a word to defend her or her father, hadn¡¯t even flinched. Instead, he¡¯dughed along, his golden-boy charm masking a betrayal that cut deeper than words.


    Now, alone in the hostel¡¯s luxurious living room, Eliana sat with her fingers twisting the delicate gold bracelet her grandfather had given her for herst birthday. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her warm brown cheeks. "Maybe he doesn¡¯t love me anymore," she whispered, her voice cracking. The thought was a lead weight in her chest, suffocating the hope she¡¯d clung to through Jason¡¯s dismissive moments and careless nces. She¡¯d always forgiven him¡ªhiste-night study sessions that smelled faintly of whiskey, his flippant remarks about her <i>"new money"</i> status¡ªbut this? His silence, hisughter, felt like a betrayal of everything they¡¯d built.


    The heavy oak door creaked open, and Sarai Monroe glided into the room, her glossy jet-ck hair swept into a sleek bun that shimmered under the chandelier¡¯s glow. Her light brown skin glowed with the faint sheen of her signature body oil, and her emerald-green eyes sparkled with a concern that seemed almost too polished. Dressed in a tailored silk blouse and a designer skirt, Sarai was the picture of elegance, her heels clicking sharply on the marble as she crossed to Eliana. "Eliana, darling, you look like you¡¯ve been crying," she said, her voice honeyed but with a practiced edge. She dropped her Prada purse onto the sofa and pulled Eliana into a hug, her floral perfume enveloping the space. "What¡¯s wrong, baby? You sounded so upset on the phone."


    Eliana¡¯s lip trembled as she sank back into the sofa, Sarai settling beside her with the grace of a runway model. "It¡¯s Jason," she choked out, her voice barely audible. "At the fundraiser, I heard his friends... they were making fun of my past, my dad. They called him a leech, said I¡¯m just Keh¡¯s charity case. And Jason¡ªhe didn¡¯t say anything, Sarai. He justughed with them, like it was funny." Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, sobs shaking her slender frame.


    Sarai¡¯s eyes widened, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face before she masked it with a sympathetic frown. She reached out, rubbing Eliana¡¯s back in slow, deliberate circles. "Oh, baby," she murmured, her tone soft butced with a calcted sharpness. "That¡¯s awful. I can¡¯t believe he¡¯d just stand there and let them talk like that. But maybe... maybe this is a sign. Jason¡¯s always been spineless when ites to his friends. He¡¯s not good enough for you, Eliana. You¡¯re in college now, living this incredible life, and he¡¯s letting you down."


    Eliana lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and glistening. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice small, vulnerable.


    Sarai sighed dramatically, tossing her head so her bun caught the light. "You¡¯re not dumb, Eliana. You deserve someone who stands up for you, who fights for you. Jason¡¯s too weak, too caught up in his rich little world to care about your feelings. You¡¯re killing yourself trying to hold onto him, and for what? A guy whoughs when his friends mock your family?" She leaned closer, her green eyes locking onto Eliana¡¯s. "You need to break up with him. For you. You¡¯re too kind, too incredible, to let him treat you like this."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around her bracelet. Sarai¡¯s words echoed her own fears, amplifying them until they felt like truth. "I... I think you¡¯re right," she whispered, her voice trembling with resolve. "I can¡¯t keep pretending this is okay. I love him, but maybe love isn¡¯t enough." Maybe she was like her mother after all. Eliana straightened, wiping her tears, a spark of determination ignited in her chest. "I¡¯m going to his room tonight. I¡¯m going to end it."


    Sarai¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile, quickly hidden as she squeezed Eliana¡¯s hand. "That¡¯s my girl," she said, her voice warm but her eyes cold. "You¡¯re stronger than you know."


    <strong>*********</strong>


    That evening, Eliana stood outside Jason¡¯s room in their shared hostel, her heart pounding like a drum. The hallway was lined with antique mirrors, reflecting her nervous figure in her elegant, cream-colored dress, another gift from her grandfather. At age ten, her old sneakers were long gone, reced by sleek ballet ts, but she still felt like an outsider in this world of wealth. She¡¯d rehearsed her words a hundred times: <i>Jason, we¡¯re done. I can¡¯t be with someone who doesn¡¯t defend me.</i> But standing here, her resolve wavered. She loved him¡ªthe boy who¡¯d shared his lunch with her in middle school, who¡¯d promised her forever under the stars. Could she really let him go?


    Before she could knock, the door swung open, and Jason stood there, his blonde hair tousled, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. He wore a tailored zer over a crisp shirt, looking every bit the charming heir she¡¯d fallen for. "Eliana?" he said, his voice a mix of confusion and charm. "What¡¯s up? I was just about to text you."


    Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "Jason, we need to talk. I¡ª"


    "Come to the lounge," Jason interrupted, grabbing Eliana¡¯s hand before she could respond. He pulled her quickly down the hall, his grip firm and unrelenting.


    Eliana stumbled after him, confusion swirling in her chest. The lounge door swung open, and she froze.


    Her breath caught. The grand room, with its towering drapes and roaring firece, was filled with people. Men and women in designer suits and dresses stood chatting softly, sses of wine in hand. Jason¡¯s parents were there, smiling and mingling among the guests, their polished presencemanding the room.


    How... how are there so many people here? Eliana thought, her heart thudding. When did they arrive? How did I not hear theme in?


    She felt her pulse quicken with unease, her eyes darting through the crowd. And then she spotted Sarai standing near the firece, just as wide-eyed as she was. Sarai¡¯s green eyes blinked in disbelief at the gathering before her gaze flicked to Jason, then to Eliana. Her lips curved into a tight smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes.


    "Eliana, darling," Sarai drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "What a surprise."


    Eliana swallowed hard, her stomach twisting with dread as she realized Sarai hadn¡¯t known about this either. Whatever Jason was nning, neither of them were prepared for it.


    Eliana had frozen in shock, her rehearsed speech dissolving under the weight of their stares. "I... I went to talk to Jason and..." she stammered, her voice barely audible.


    Jason turned to her, his expression softening into something almost genuine. "Eliana, I¡¯ve been an idiot," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I¡¯ve taken you for granted, and I¡¯m sorry." Before she could respond, he dropped to one knee, pulling a smooth red box from his pocket. The room gasped, and Eliana¡¯s heart stopped as he opened it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring, its facets sparkling like a promise.


    "Eliana Bet," he said, his voice dense with so much love¡ªor a convincing act, "I love you to the moon and back. Will you marry me?"


    The room spun. Eliana¡¯s eyes darted to Sarai, who stood rigid, her smile frozen, her fingers clenched around her wine ss. "Eliana," Sarai said quickly, stepping forward, her voice low but urgent. "Think about this. You were just telling me how hurt you were. He didn¡¯t even defend you. Are you sure? People don¡¯t change that fast."


    Eliana¡¯s gaze flicked back to Jason, his hazel eyes pleading, his smile so familiar it ached. She thought of hisughter at the fundraiser, his silence as his friends tore her apart, of the years she¡¯d loved him, of the hope she¡¯d clung to despite the pain. But she also thought of the boy who¡¯d held her hand through her fears, who¡¯d promised her the world. Maybe he could change. Maybe this was his way of proving it.


    "I... I love you too, Jason," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Yes. Yes, I¡¯ll marry you."


    The room erupted in thunderous apuse as Jason slid the glittering ring onto her trembling finger. It felt impossibly heavy, like a golden shackle locking her into a life she wasn¡¯t sure she chose, yet it also felt like the fulfilment of every little girl¡¯s fairytale dream. For a split second, as he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers, she allowed herself to sink into the illusion ¨C to believe that this was love, that this was forever.


    Sarai pped along with everyone else, her perfectly manicured hands moving in practiced rhythm. But her smile was stretched thin, like stic pulled too tight, and her eyes burned with a simmering rage that Eliana, lost in her dizzy haze of champagne and cheers, was far too innocent to notice.


    The celebration roared to life around them ¨C crystal sses clinking, the sharp pop of champagne corks punctuating the air,ughter rising and falling like waves crashing on a shore. Eliana¡¯s phone buzzed insistently in her pocket, a tiny vibration that somehow cut through the cacophony. She fumbled it out with shaky fingers, expecting another congrattory text or a friend¡¯s excited scream through the speaker.


    Instead, her chest clenched at the sight of her father¡¯s name glowing on the screen.


    "Excuse me," she mumbled politely, gently slipping away from the circle of well-wishers. Her heart pounded with an uneasy rhythm as she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello? Papa?"


    His voice was weak, strained with something that sounded like desperation. "Eliana...pleasee home. Now. Something bad has happened."


    The words sliced straight through her euphoria. The ring on her finger, only moments ago a symbol of glittering promises, now felt like a b of iron dragging her under. Her vision blurred at the edges as cold dread pooled in her chest. She didn¡¯t even hear Jason calling her name behind her as she turned and began to walk away from the party lights, her entire world already beginning to crumble under her feet.

 Chapter 7: A Tragedy

    <h4>Chapter 7: A Tragedy</h4>


    The grand lounge of Eliana¡¯s hostel glowed under golden lights,ughter and clinking sses blending into a hazy blur as Eliana hurried towards the exit. Her cream dress brushed against her shaking legs, the delicate fabric catching and reflecting the warm chandelier light above. The diamond ring on her finger¡ªJason¡¯s proposal still ringing in her ears¡ªfelt unbearably heavy, like a stone dragging her down into cold, dark water.


    Her father¡¯s desperate voice kept ying in her mind. <i>"Eliana... pleasee home. Now. Something bad has happened." </i>Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst. Without looking back, she shoved open the heavy oak doors and stepped into the cool night air, her chest tight with fear.


    "Eliana!" Jason¡¯s voice caught her ears,ced with confusion and worry but she didn¡¯t turn. Her ballet ts pped against the cobblestone path as she hurried toward the parking lot, her thoughts were spiraling deeper into dark scenarios. What could have happened? Was her father sick again? Or worse? The world tilted, and she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her ragged breaths.


    "Eliana, wait!" Jason¡¯s footsteps pounded closer, his tailored zer pping behind him. His hazel eyes, usually so full of charm, were wide with concern¡ªor perhaps a well-practiced imitation of it. "Please wait! What¡¯s wrong? You¡¯re shaking like a leaf, my love."


    Sarai¡¯s heels ttered as she hurried alongside him, her sleek ponytail swishing against her back. "Eliana, stop!" she called, breathless. "What¡¯s happened?"


    Eliana stumbled to a halt at the hostel¡¯s edge, just before the driveway curved into the shadows of the estate¡¯s towering oaks. She clutched her phone so hard her knuckles whitened. Tears blurred her sight as she tried to focus on Jason¡¯s concerned hazel eyes and Sarai¡¯s sharp green gaze shimmering under the garden lights.


    "My... my dad just called," she panted, her voice breaking under the tremors of panic. "He told me... he told me toe home immediately. Something bad has happened."


    Sarai tilted her head slightly, confusion clouding her perfectly sculpted features. "Something bad? What do you mean, Eliana?" she asked, her voice gentle yet tinged with impatience. "What happened?"


    Eliana shook her head, her curls bouncing against her tear-streaked cheeks. "He didn¡¯t say. Just... just toe home. Now." Her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself, the chilly night air biting at her bare shoulders.


    Sarai¡¯s expression softened, but her eyes remained calcting. She stepped forward, enveloping Eliana in a perfumed embrace that felt more like a performance thanfort. "Oh, baby, don¡¯t worry," she murmured, her voice syrupy sweet. "Everything¡¯s going to be fine. You¡¯ll see." She pulled back, her manicured hands lingering on Eliana¡¯s arms, her smile tight as stic wrap.


    Jason¡¯s jaw tightened, but his voice was gentle. "Come on, I¡¯ll drive you." He fished his phone from his pocket, dialing quickly. "Mom, hey, can you keep an eye on the party? Eliana and I need to step out for a bit. Yeah, it¡¯s important." He hung up, his golden-boy smile flickering as he turned to Eliana. "Let¡¯s go."


    "I¡¯ming too," Sarai said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She tossed her hair, her heels clicking decisively against the cobblestones as she strode toward Jason¡¯s sleek Mercedes-Benz, its silver curves glinting like a predator in the moonlight.


    Jason unlocked the car with a beep, holding the passenger door open for Eliana. "Get in," he said softly, his hand brushing her lower back. Eliana slid into the plush leather seat, her trembling fingers clutching her phone as Sarai climbed into the back, her perfume filling the car with a sharp floral scent.


    The engine roared to life, and Jason peeled out of the parking lot, the tires screeching faintly as they sped into the night. The city lights blurred past, a kaleidoscope of neon and shadow, but Eliana barely noticed. Her phone buzzed again, and her heart lurched as her father¡¯s name shed on the screen. She answered with shaking hands. "Papa? I¡¯m on my way. What¡¯s going on?"


    His voice was hoarse,ced with panic. "Eliana, don¡¯t go home. Come to Keh¡¯s house instead. Please, hurry." The line went dead before she could ask more, leaving her staring at the dark screen, her stomach twisting into knots.


    "Keh¡¯s house?" Jason nced at her, his brows furrowed. "Your grandfather¡¯s ce? Why there?"


    "I don¡¯t know," Eliana whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. "He just said to go there." Her fingers tightened around the phone, the diamond ring glinting ominously in the dim light.


    Sarai leaned forward, her voice low and probing. "Eliana, what¡¯s got you so spooked? Your dad¡¯s probably just overreacting. You know how parents are." She waved a hand dismissively, but her eyes were sharp, watching Eliana like a hawk.


    Eliana didn¡¯t respond, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her mind racing with images of her father¡¯s frail frame, his tired eyes, and Keh¡¯s warm, weathered smile. Keh, the man who¡¯d taken her and her father in like family, who¡¯d given her a taste of a life she¡¯d never dreamed of. What could have happened to make her father sound so broken?


    The grand gates of Keh Holloway¡¯s mansion loomed ahead, their wrought-iron elegance illuminated by floodlights. The guards recognized Eliana and waved them through without hesitation, the gates creaking open like the jaws of some great beast. Jason parked in the circr driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires as the car came to a stop.


    Eliana didn¡¯t wait for the engine to die. She flung the door open and ran toward the mansion¡¯s towering entrance, her ts slipping on the polished marble steps. "Papa!" she called, her voice echoing through the cavernous foyer. The chandeliers above created a warm glow over the luxurious interior, but the air felt heavy, suffocating.


    She burst into the living room, where a crowd had gathered¡ªbodyguards in crisp suits, domestic staff whispering nervously, and security personnel standing rigid by the walls. Her father sat slumped on a soft couch, his face buried in his hands, his thin shoulders shaking. Eliana¡¯s heart stopped. "Papa, what¡¯s wrong?" she demanded, dropping to her knees before him, her hands gripping his. "What happened?"


    He looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears. "It¡¯s Keh," he choked out. "He... he was in a car ident. The car... it exploded. They said his body was... was burnt to ash."


    The world dropped out from under her. Eliana¡¯s knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, a raw, keening sob tearing from her throat. "No," she whispered, shaking her head as tears streamed down her face. "No, not him. Not grandpa." Her Papa H, the man who¡¯d filled her life with warmth and wisdom, who¡¯d seen her when no one else did¡ªgone. Burnt to ash. The words didn¡¯t make sense, couldn¡¯t make sense.


    Jason was at her side in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around her. "Eliana, I¡¯m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with sadness¡ªor so it seemed. He pressed her against his chest, his hand stroking her hair. "I¡¯m here. We¡¯ll get through this."


    Sarai knelt beside her, her green eyes shimmering with what looked like tears. "Oh, baby," she said softly, her hand resting on Eliana¡¯s shoulder. "He wouldn¡¯t want you to fall apart like this. Keh loved your strength. You have to be strong for him now."


    Eliana barely heard them, her mind flooded with memories¡ªKeh¡¯s deepugh, the way he¡¯d call her "my girl" with pride, thete-night talks about life and dreams in this very room. He¡¯d been her anchor, her proof that fate could be kind. And now he was gone, reduced to nothing but ash in a cruel twist of chance. "I don¡¯t know how to do this without him," she sobbed, her voice raw. "He was... he was everything to me."


    "You¡¯re tougher than you think," Jason said, his voice firm but gentle. "You¡¯ve got us. You¡¯ve got your dad. You¡¯ll be okay."


    "Exactly," Sarai added, her tone almost too smooth. "Keh would want you to keep going, to live the life he wanted for you. Don¡¯t let him down."


    Eliana clung to her father¡¯s hand, her tears soaking into the plush carpet. The room was a blur of faces, all watching her with pity or curiosity, but none of them understood. None of them knew what it was like to lose the one person who¡¯d made her feel like she belonged in a world that had always pushed her away.


    The heavy silence was shattered by the sharp click of heels and the rustle of expensive fabric. Four figures strode into the living room, their presencemanding every eye. Two men and two women, all in theirte forties, dressed in tailored suits and dresses that screamed wealth and power. The older man, with graying temples and a stern jaw, stepped forward, his voice suddenlymanding the room.


    "We are Keh Holloway¡¯s children," he dered, his gaze sweeping the room with cold authority. "And we¡¯re here to settle our father¡¯s affairs."


    The room fell silent before erupting into stunned gasps, a ripple of shock coursing through the crowd like an electric current. Eliana¡¯s head jerked up, her tear-streaked face going rigid with disbelief. Keh¡¯s children? The ones Papa H had always avoided mentioning, as if their very names burned his tongue?


    Her heart mmed against her ribs as she took them in¡ªfour strangers standing there with gleaming smiles and eyes that hid secrets darker than midnight. Polished, poised, and dripping with the kind of quiet venom that could tear through anyone¡¯s peace.


    Why now? she thought, her pulse quickening. <i>What were they doing here... of all days?</i>

 Chapter 8: Evicted

    <h4>Chapter 8: Evicted</h4>


    The grand living room of Keh Holloway¡¯s mansion felt like it was holding its breath. Chandeliers bathed everything in golden light, but there was no warmth left in the room¡ªonly a heavy grief that loomed over everyone like an ominous presence.


    Eliana Bet knelt beside her father, Frank, clutching his trembling hand in both of hers. Tears clung to hershes as she looked around at the silent domestic staff, the stiff security guards, and then at them¡ªthe strangers who had just barged into their world without warning. Keh¡¯s children.


    At the front stood the eldest, Williams Holloway, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might shatter, cold gray eyes scanning the room like he was already bored. Beside him was Margaret, draped in a crimson dress that probably cost more than Eliana¡¯s entire life savings. Her sharp features were set in stone, unreadable. Then there was Evelyn, with her sleek blonde bob and lips pursed in permanent disapproval, as though the scent of grief itself offended her. And finally, Thomas. The youngest, with a smirk that danced across his face like a flickering me¡ªhalf amusement, half threat.


    They stood shoulder to shoulder, their expensive clothes gleaming under the chandelier light, looking less like a grieving family and more like a corporate army ready to seize control. It was as if they¡¯d stepped straight out of a boardroom and into a tragedy, and Eliana could already feel the storm they brought with them gathering at her feet.


    Behind them stood a wiry man in a pinstripe suit, adjusting his sses, his briefcase clutched like a weapon. He cleared his throat, his voice breaking the stunned silence. "I am Mr. Harold Grayson, attorney to the Holloway family. My clients, the rightful heirs of Keh Holloway, have asked me to oversee the immediate transition of this estate."


    Eliana¡¯s heart stuttered. <i>Transition? </i>Her gaze flicked to her father, whose gaunt face had gone ashen, his frail frame trembling under the weight of the words. The room seemed to shrink, the luxurious walls closing in as thewyer¡¯s voice droned on. "This property, along with all associated assets, now belongs solely to Mr. Holloway¡¯s children. As such, all non-essential personnel¡ªsecurity, domestic staff, and... others¡ªare to vacate the premises immediately."


    A collective gasp rippled through the room. The maids clutched their aprons, their whispers rising like a tide. The security guards stiffened, exchanging uneasy nces. Eliana¡¯s breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. Vacate? She tightened her grip on her father¡¯s hand, her voice only a whisper. "Papa, what¡¯s happening?"


    Frank¡¯s eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, met hers. "Eliana, I¡ª" His voice cracked, and he shook his head, unable to finish.


    Williams Holloway stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking ominously on the marble floor. His graying temples caught the light as he surveyed the room with the cold detachment of a predator. "Let me make this clear," he said, his voice low and venomous. "It hase to our notice that you, Frank Bet, and your daughter, Eliana, have been leeching off our father for years. An old, senile man, easily manipted by your sob stories. We know exactly what you¡¯ve been doing, and we will not stand for it."


    Eliana¡¯s jaw dropped, her heart mming against her ribs. "Leeching?" she whispered, the word tasting like ash. She rose to her feet, her slender frame trembling with a mix of grief and fury. "How dare you? Grandpa Keh was family to us! He loved us, and we loved him! We never asked for anything¡ª"


    "Save your breath," Margaret cut in, her crimson lips curling into a sneer. "Our father was a fool to let you anywhere near him. You think you¡¯re part of this family? You¡¯re nothing but parasites."


    Frank struggled to his feet, his thin shoulders squared despite the tremor in his hands. "Please," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Your father just died. His ashes... it¡¯s barely cold. Can¡¯t we honor him first? Bury him, mourn him, before you tear everything apart? We can talk about thister, when¡ª"


    "When what?" Evelyn snapped, her blonde bob swaying as she leaned forward. "When you¡¯ve had time to siphon off more of his fortune? No. This ends now."


    Eliana¡¯s vision blurred with tears, her chest heaving as she tried to find words. "You don¡¯t understand," she said, her voice breaking. "Keh took us in when we had nothing. He gave us a home, a purpose. He was my grandfather, not just your father. He¡ª"


    "That¡¯s enough!" Williams barked, his voice echoing like a gunshot. He turned to thewyer, his eyes glinting with malice. "Mr. Grayson, proceed."


    Before Eliana could protest further, the double doors of the living room burst open, and a group of fifteen to twenty burly men in dark suits stormed in. Their boots thudded against the marble, their faces expressionless but their intent clear. The room erupted into chaos¡ªmaids screamed, security guards shouted, and the air filled with the cacophony of panic.


    "Get them out," Thomas said, his smirk widening as he waved a handzily. "All of them. Now."


    The hefty men moved like a swarm, grabbing arms and shoving bodies toward the exit. A maid sobbed as she was dragged away, her apron slipping to the floor. A security guard tried to stand his ground, only to be pushed back with a forceful shove. Eliana¡¯s heart raced as one of the men loomed over her, his meaty hand reaching for her arm.


    "Don¡¯t you dare touch me!" Sarai¡¯s voice broke through the chaos, sharp andmanding. She stood tall, her glossy ck hair gleaming in its sleek bun, her designer heels nted firmly on the floor. "I can walk myself out, thank you very much." Her green eyes shed with defiance, but there was something else there¡ªa flicker of satisfaction, a secret delight that no one else seemed to notice. She smoothed her dress and sauntered toward the door, her chin held high.


    Jason, meanwhile, was not soposed. As one of the men grabbed his arm, he jerked free, his hazel eyes zing. "Get your hands off me!" he shouted, swinging a fist that connected with the man¡¯s jaw. The guard staggered back, but two more closed in, their faces unyielding. "You think you can just throw us out like trash?" Jason snarled, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he squared his shoulders. "This is bullshit!"


    Eliana barely registered themotion. Her world had narrowed to the sight of her father, frail and trembling, as two men grabbed his arms. "No!" she screamed, lunging forward. "Don¡¯t touch him! He¡¯s sick!" But her pleas were drowned out by the chaos. Rough hands seized her, dragging her toward the towering entrance. She kicked and twisted, her ts slipping on the marble, her curls bouncing wildly. "Papa!" she cried, her voice raw with desperation.


    Frank stumbled as he was pushed forward, his thin frame no match for the men¡¯s strength. "Eliana!" he called, his voice breaking. "Stay calm, sweetheart. We¡¯ll figure this out."


    The grand doors loomed ahead, the night air rushing in as they were shoved outside. The gravel crunched underfoot, the cold biting at Eliana¡¯s skin through her thin dress. The domestic staff huddled together, some sobbing, others cursing under their breath. The security guards stood in a defeated line, their radios silent.


    Jason appeared at Eliana¡¯s side, his jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand. "Come on," he said, his voice tight with anger. "You and Frank, get in my car. We¡¯re getting out of here."


    Sarai was already at the car, her arms crossed, her face emotionless. She slid into the front passenger seat without a word, her silence unnervingly out of character. Eliana helped her father into the backseat, her hands shaking as she buckled his seatbelt. "It¡¯s okay, Papa," she whispered, though her voice trembled. "We¡¯ll be okay."


    Jason mmed the driver¡¯s door and peeled out of the driveway, the tires screeching as the mansion¡¯s gates faded into the distance. The city lights blurred past, a dizzying dance of neon and shadow. Frank leaned back, his breathing ragged. "Thank you, Jason," he said, his voice sounding really small. "You didn¡¯t have to help us."


    Jason¡¯s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles strained. "Those people are jerks," he said, his tone sharp. "I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just a misunderstanding. It¡¯ll all blow over soon, Frank. You¡¯ll see."


    Eliana stared out the window, her heart a tangled mess of grief and betrayal. Jason¡¯s hazel eyes rested on hers for a few seconds through the rear view mirror, warm and reassuring, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest. "Don¡¯t worry, El," he said softly, "I¡¯ve got you."


    Sarai remained silent, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line. The car was heavy with unspoken words, the tension thick enough to choke on.


    Frank sighed, rubbing his temples. "Jason, can you drop me at my supermarket? I need to grab a few things. Clear my head."


    "Sure thing," Jason said, his voice steady. "No problem."


    The drive to Frank¡¯s supermarket was a blur, the city lights fading into the familiar glow of the small strip mall. But as they pulled into the parking lot, Eliana¡¯s stomach dropped. A crowd had gathered outside¡ªstaff in their green aprons, customers clutching reusable bags, all staring at the store with wide, disbelieving eyes. At the entrance, a line of hefty men in dark suits blocked the doors, their arms crossed, their faces as impassive as stone.


    Frank¡¯s breath hitched. "What the hell..." He fumbled with the door handle, his movements frantic. Eliana followed, her heart sinking as she stepped out of the car. The cold night air stung her tear-streaked cheeks, and the weight of the day crashed over her like a bus.


    "Papa," she whispered, her voice trembling as she grabbed his arm. "What¡¯s happening?"


    Frank didn¡¯t answer. His eyes were fixed on the supermarket¡ªhis life¡¯s work, his pride¡ªnow guarded like a fortress. The crowd¡¯s murmurs grew louder, a chorus of confusion and anger. Eliana¡¯s pulse raced, her mind spinning with questions. First Keh¡¯s death, then the eviction, and now this? What was happening to their world?


    The car door mmed behind them as Jason and Sarai stepped out, their silhouettes stark against the neon glow. The night felt alive with secrets, and Eliana¡¯s heart pounded with the certainty that nothing would ever be the same.

 Chapter 9: Ruined

    <h4>Chapter 9: Ruined</h4>


    The neon glow of Frank Bet¡¯s supermarket spilled across the cracked parking lot, drowning everything in a harsh, buzzing light. A restless crowd swarmed outside, murmuring like bees around a broken hive, their breath curling in the cold night air. Desperation clung to them like a second skin.


    Frank shuffled forward, his thin body swallowed by an old, threadbare jacket. Despite the tremble in his hands, there was a stubborn set to his jaw as he faced the line of burly men guarding his store¡¯s entrance. Years of struggle carved deep lines into his weathered face, but his eyes still burned with a flicker of fight.


    Eliana hurried behind him, curls bouncing with every step, her eyes wide with fear. She reached out as if to steady him but pulled back, her fingers curling into her palm. Near the car, Jason and Sarai hovered in the shadows, their silhouettes sharp and still against the flickering neon, watching the chaos unfold with silent dread.


    Frank stopped just a few feet away from them. Their dark suits swallowed the neon light, turning them into towering shadows. The tallest one, built like a tower with eyes as cold and unfeeling as steel, red down at him without so much as a blink. The restless murmurs of the crowd fell away, leaving a heavy, consuming silence as tension coiled around them like a snake ready to strike.


    "Excuse me," Frank began, his voice raspy but firm, "what¡¯s going on here? This is my store. Why are you blocking the doors?"


    The tower-looking man tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk that looked really scary. "Your store?" he said, his voice low and mocking. "Not anymore, Mr. Bet. This property belonged to thete Mr. Keh Holloway. We¡¯re here to confiscate it on behalf of his children."


    Frank¡¯s breath caught, his eyes widening as if the ground had split beneath him. "Confiscate?" he stammered, his hands rising to clutch at his chest. "That¡¯s impossible! Keh gave me the deed to this supermarket. It¡¯s mine, legally mine!"


    The man exchanged a nce with his colleagues, their faces impassive. "The deed, you say?" he drawled, crossing his arms. "Mr. Holloway wasn¡¯t in his right mind when he signed that over. You¡¯ll need to return it. If you want to fight this, take it to court. But for now¡ª" he gestured toward the parking lot with azy flick of his hand¡ª"you need to evacuate the premises."


    Frank¡¯s knees buckled, and he crumpled to the asphalt like a log. A choked sob tore from his throat, raw and guttural, echoing in the stunned silence. The crowd gasped, some stepping back, others craning their necks to gawk. Eliana dropped to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she gripped his shoulders. "Papa!" she cried out, her voice splintering like shattered ss. Tears streaked down her warm brown cheeks, glinting under the neon lights like tiny shards of sorrow. "Please, Papa, don¡¯t do this. We¡¯ll find a way, I swear. Just... please."


    Frank¡¯s sobs shook his frail body, his hands wing at the cold ground as if he could pin himself to the life slipping away. "It¡¯s gone," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Everything... my store... my pride..."


    Jason stood frozen a few paces away, his eyes wide with shock, his golden-boy charm dimmed by the scene unfolding before him. His jaw twitched, but no words came. Sarai, however, stood poised like a statue, her glossy ck bun gleaming under the lights. Her green eyes glinted with something sharp¡ªamusement, perhaps, or triumph¡ªthough her lips remained pressed into a thin, neutral line. A faint smirk flickered at the corner of her mouth, gone so quickly it might have been a trick of the light.


    Eliana¡¯s gaze darted to the tower-looking man, who watched the scene with detached amusement. "Papa,e on," she urged, her voice trembling as she tugged at Frank¡¯s arm. "Let¡¯s go home. We¡¯ll rest, and we¡¯ll¡ª"


    "Home?" the man interrupted, his voice cutting through her words. He stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. "I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s not yours either, Miss Bet. The house was also a gift from Mr. Holloway. It¡¯s being reimed."


    Eliana froze, her hands still on her father¡¯s shoulders. Her breath hitched, her eyes snapping up to meet the man¡¯s. "What?" she whispered, her heart hanging by a tread.


    "You heard me," he said, his smirk widening. "You¡¯ve got one week to clear out your belongings. After that, we¡¯ll remove them by force. Consider it a courtesy."


    Eliana¡¯s shock shattered into fury. She surged to her feet, her slender frame trembling with rage. "This is wrong!" she shouted, her voice ringing across the parking lot. "You can¡¯t just take our home, our livelihood! This is an infringement on our rights!"


    The manughed, a deep, mocking sound that sent a chill down her spine. "Rights?" he said, stepping closer until he loomed over her. "Take it to court, sweetheart. But let me assure you¡ªyou and your daddy won¡¯t win."


    The crowd¡¯s murmurs grew louder, a mix of outrage and confusion. A woman in a green apron clutched her reusable bag, her eyes brimming with tears. A teenage cashier whispered to his friend, his face pale. The hefty men moved forward, their presence a silentmand. "Clear out!" one of them barked, waving his arms. "All of you, now!"


    The crowd scattered like leaves in a storm, some stumbling, others cursing under their breath. Eliana helped Frank to his feet, her hands gentle but firm. His face was pale, his eyes hollow. Jason hurried over, his jaw still tight, and gripped Frank¡¯s other arm. "Come on, Frank," he said, his voice low. "Let¡¯s get you to the car."


    Sarai sauntered over, her heels clicking on the asphalt. "Oh, baby," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "This is just awful. I can¡¯t imagine what you¡¯re going through."


    Eliana managed a weak nod, her throat too tight to speak. Jason guided Frank to the car, settling him into the backseat. Eliana slid in beside her father, her hands sped tightly in herp. Jason took the driver¡¯s seat, and Sarai imed the front passenger side again, her posture as regal as ever.


    As the car pulled out of the lot, Jason nced at Eliana through the rearview mirror. "Everything¡¯s gonna be alright, El," he said, his voice warm but strained. "This is just a mix-up. You¡¯ll see."


    Sarai turned slightly, her eyes softening as she looked back. "Absolutely," she said, her tone smooth as silk. "You two are so strong. You¡¯ll get through this."


    Frank stared out the window, his breathing shallow. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Both of you."


    Eliana¡¯s heart ached, her mind a whirlwind of grief and fear. She reached for her father¡¯s hand, squeezing it gently. "We¡¯ll figure it out, Papa," she whispered, though the words felt hollow.


    The drive to their house¡ªtheir soon-to-be-lost house¡ªwas silent, the city lights blurring past in streaks of color. When they pulled into the driveway, the modest home loomed like a ghost, its familiar warmth now tainted by the threat of loss. Jason parked and turned to Eliana, his hazel eyes searching hers. "I¡¯d stay, El, but my parents just called. They need me home right away. I¡¯ll call you tomorrow, okay?"


    Eliana nodded, her throat tight. "Okay," she said softly. "Thanks, Jason."


    Sarai leaned over, her expression one of practiced concern. "I¡¯d love to stay, Eliana, but I¡¯ve got a test first thing tomorrow. I need to study. You understand, right?"


    "Of course," Eliana said, forcing a small smile. "You¡¯ve done so much already. Thank you, Sarai."


    "Drive safe," she added, her voice trembling as she watched them climb back into the car. Jason gave her a reassuring wave, and Sarai offered a delicate smile before the car pulled away, its taillights fading into the night.


    Eliana turned to her father, who stood slumped in the driveway, his eyes fixed on the house. "Come on, Papa," she said gently, looping her arm through his. "Let¡¯s get inside."


    They shuffled toward the front door, the porch light spreading it¡¯s soft glow over the peeling paint and cracked steps. Eliana fumbled with her keys, her hands still shaking, and pushed the door open. The familiar scent of roses and old wood greeted them, a cruel reminder of the life they were about to lose.


    Frank stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the cozy living room¡ªthe faded couch, the framed photos, the supermarket¡¯s first dor bill mounted on the wall. His face crumpled, and he sank to the floor with a heavy thud, his knees hitting the hardwood. "It¡¯s all gone," he whispered, his voice breaking. "The store... this house... everything Keh gave us..."


    Eliana gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. "Papa!" she cried, her heart lurching. She wrapped her arms around him, her tears soaking into his jacket. The weight of the day¡ªthe eviction, the supermarket, the house¡ªsettled down on her like a stone, threatening to crush her. But as she held her father, her quiet strength flickered, a spark in the darkness.


    The night closed in around the little house, its secrets and sorrows locked within its walls. For Eliana and Frank, their world had crumbled, and the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty.

 Chapter 10: No Way Out

    <h4>Chapter 10: No Way Out</h4>


    The dawn broke over Eliana Bet¡¯s small, soon-to-be-lost home. The morning was heavy with the scent of dew-soaked grass, but inside, the atmosphere was smothering, thick with despair. Eliana sat at the worn kitchen table, her honey-brown eyes scanning a crumpled notepad filled with frantic scribbles¡ªphone numbers, addresses, and desperate ns. Her long, curly ck hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands clinging to her tear-streaked face. Across from her, Frank Bet slumped in his chair, his frail frame trembling as he sipped weak tea, his eyes distant and hollow.


    "Papa, we¡¯re not giving up," Eliana said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. She reached across the table, squeezing his hard fingers. "I¡¯ve got a list of people to call today. Lawyers, maybe even someone from Mr. Holloway¡¯s estate. We¡¯ll fight this."


    Frank¡¯s gaze flickered to her, his lips parting in a weak smile. "You¡¯re so much like your mother when she was kind," he murmured, his voice raspy. "Always believing things can be fixed."


    Eliana¡¯s heart clenched at the mention of the mother, who had abandoned them years ago. She forced a smile, pushing the pain down. "We¡¯ll fix this, Papa. I promise."


    But promises were fragile, and the next three days tested their strength. Eliana threw herself into action, her slender frame darting through the city like a determined sparrow. She made calls until her voice grew hoarse, pleading with legal aid offices and local advocates. Most hung up when they heard the name Holloway, their tones shifting from polite to curt, as if the mere mention of the billionaire¡¯s family was a curse. By the third day, Frank¡¯s condition worsened. The fever that had gued him for years returned with a vengeance, his skin burning to the touch, his breaths shallow andbored. Eliana found him that morning copsed in the living room, clutching his chest, his face contorted in pain.


    "Papa!" Eliana screamed, dropping to her knees beside him. Her hands fumbled for her phone, dialing 911 as tears blurred her vision. "Stay with me, please, Papa, don¡¯t leave me!"


    The paramedics arrived in a blur of sirens and urgency, their boots thudding against the hardwood floor. They lifted Frank onto a stretcher, his frail body looking impossibly small. Eliana clung to his hand as they wheeled him out, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. At the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the hum of machines surrounded her as she sat by Frank¡¯s bedside, watching the rise and fall of his chest. The doctor, a tired woman with graying hair, delivered the news with clinical precision: a heart attack,pounded by his chronic fever and stress. He needed rest, medication, and a miracle.


    Eliana¡¯s world tilted, but she refused to crumble. "I¡¯ll find a way," she whispered to her sleeping father, brushing a damp cloth across his forehead. "I¡¯ll talk to Mr. Holloway¡¯s children. They have to listen."


    *********


    The next day, Eliana stood outside the towering ss building of Holloway Enterprises, Margaret Holloway¡¯s domain. The structure gleamed like a monument, its reflective surface mocking her pathetic life. She clutched a folder of documents¡ªproof of Keh Holloway¡¯s gifts to her father, letters of gratitude, anything that might sway Margaret¡¯s heart. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the revolving doors, her steps echoing in the marble lobby.


    At the reception desk, a woman with a severe bun and a tailored zer eyed her skeptically. "Name and purpose?" she asked, her voice as cold as the air conditioning.


    "Eliana Bet," Eliana said, straightening her shoulders. "I¡¯m here to see Margaret Holloway. It¡¯s about my father, Frank Bet, and¡ª"


    "Ms. Holloway doesn¡¯t take unscheduled meetings," the receptionist interrupted, her manicured nails clicking on the keyboard. "Do you have an appointment?"


    "No, but it¡¯s urgent," Eliana pleaded, her voice cracking. "Please, just tell her it¡¯s about Keh Holloway¡¯s estate. She¡¯ll want to hear this."


    The receptionist sighed, picking up the phone. After a brief, whispered conversation, she pointed to a sleek elevator. "Fifteenth floor. Don¡¯t waste her time."


    The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the mirrored walls reflecting Eliana¡¯s anxious expression. When the doors opened, Margaret Holloway stood waiting, a formidable woman in her fifties with sharp cheekbones and a navy power suit. Her gray eyes assessed Eliana like a predator sizing up prey.


    "Ms. Bet," Margaret said, her voice clipped. "I understand you¡¯re here about my father¡¯s... gifts." The word dripped with disdain.


    Eliana swallowed, clutching her folder. "Yes, ma¡¯am. My father, Frank, worked for your father for years. Mr. Holloway gave us our home, our store. Now they¡¯re being taken away, and my father¡¯s in the hospital. Please, I¡¯m begging you to reconsider."


    Margaret¡¯s lips curled into a thin smile. "Begging," she repeated, stepping closer. "Do you know how many peoplee crawling to us, iming my father promised them something? You¡¯re nothing special, Ms. Bet. Just another leech clinging to his legacy."


    Eliana¡¯s face flushed, but she held her ground. "I¡¯m not a leech. My father earned everything we had. He loved Mr. Holloway like family."


    "Family?" Margaretughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "You think you¡¯re family? You¡¯re a charity case, nothing more. Get out of my office before I have security drag you out."


    Humiliation burned in Eliana¡¯s chest as she stumbled back to the elevator, Margaret¡¯sughter echoing behind her. But she wasn¡¯t done. The next stop was Thomas Holloway¡¯spany, a tech startup housed in a trendy loft space with exposed brick and neon signs. Thomas, the youngest Holloway, was known for his charm and ruthlessness. Eliana hoped he¡¯d be more sympathetic.


    She was wrong.


    Thomas¡¯s office was a chaotic blend of modern art and tech gadgets, with floor to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Thomas, a lean man in his thirties with slicked-brown hair and a tailored zer, leaned back in his chair, smirking as Eliana stood before him, her folder trembling in her hands.


    "Oh, if it isn¡¯t the little ¡¯granddaughter¡¯ my father took a shine to," Thomas drawled, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "What¡¯s this about, sweetheart? Come to beg for scraps?"


    Eliana¡¯s jaw tightened, but she forced her voice to remain steady. "Mr. Holloway, I¡¯m here about the house and store my father was given by your father. They¡¯re being taken from us, and my father¡¯s in the hospital. I¡¯m asking for your help to stop this."


    Thomas chuckled, standing and circling his desk like a shark. "Help? Oh, darlin¡¯, you¡¯re barking up the wrong tree. My old man was a soft touch, giving handouts to every sob story that came his way. But me? I don¡¯t y that game."


    Eliana¡¯s heart sank, but she pressed on. "It wasn¡¯t a handout. My father worked for your father for years. He trusted us, cared for us. Please, Mr. Holloway, I¡¯m not asking for charity¡ªjust fairness."


    Thomas stopped inches from her, his breath hot and reeking of coffee. "Fairness? Let¡¯s talk about what¡¯s fair. You¡¯re a pretty little thing, aren¡¯t you? Maybe we could work something out." His hand grazed her arm, and Eliana flinched, stepping back.


    "Don¡¯t touch me," she said, her voice shaking with fury and fear.


    Thomasughed, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh,e on, don¡¯t be shy. A girl like you, desperate and all alone? I could make things real easy for you. Just say the word."


    Eliana¡¯s stomach churned, and she bolted for the door, her folder falling to the floor in her haste. Thomas¡¯sughter chased her down the hall, a cruel echo that lingered as she stumbled into the street, tears streaming down her face. She ran until her legs burned, the city blurring around her, her pride and hope in tatters.


    ********


    Back at the hospital, Eliana sat by Frank¡¯s bedside, her hands sped tightly as she watched the monitors beep. She had onest hope: awyer rmended by a nurse. The office was a cramped space downtown, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering fluorescent light. Thewyer, a balding man named Mr. Morris, listened to her story with a bored expression.


    "I¡¯ll be blunt, Ms. Bet," he said, leaning back in his creaky chair. "The Holloways are untouchable. They¡¯ve got money,wyers, and influence. You could fight, but it¡¯ll cost you¡ªten grand upfront, minimum. And honestly? You¡¯d lose. They always win."


    Eliana¡¯s heart plummeted. "Ten thousand?" she whispered. "I don¡¯t have that kind of money."


    "Then don¡¯t waste my time," Morris said, already turning to hisputer. "Move on, kid. Find a new ce to live."


    ********


    The week ended like a guillotine¡¯s fall. Eliana packed their belongings in silence, each item¡ªa chipped mug, a faded photo, the supermarket¡¯s first dor bill¡ªcarrying the weight of their crumbling life. Frank, discharged but frail, sat in a wheelchair, his eyes fixed on the floor. The threat of forced eviction loomed, and Eliana had no choice. They had to leave.


    She thought of Jason and Sarai, her best friends, her fianc¨¦, her anchors. Her fingers hovered over her phone, aching to call them, to beg for help. But pride¡ªand their silence since the night they dropped her and her father off¡ªstopped her.


    They¡¯re busy, she told herself, conjuring excuses. Jason¡¯s got his family, Sarai¡¯s got her sses and tests. Excuses shielded her from the truth.


    With nowhere else to go, Eliana took her father back to the hostel where she lived. She was still a student, after all, and this was the only ce she could think of. Frank looked around in silence as she helped him inside, his shoulders hunched with exhaustion. Eliana set their few belongings down by her bed and guided him to sit, trying to ignore the ache building in her chest.


    This wasn¡¯t how things were supposed to be. Her father, once so strong and proud, now sat before her looking lost and fragile. She swallowed the tightness in her throat and forced a small smile.


    This¡¯ll do for now, Papa," she whispered, crouching down to untie his shoes. "But... we¡¯ll be okay here. I promise."


    Frank didn¡¯t respond. He only stared at the floor with empty eyes, as if all the light in him had burned out long ago.


    Eliana took a shaky breath and turned away to unpack, blinking back tears. She had no idea how she would keep her promise this time.


    As night fell, the house echoed withughter and arguments from the helps. Elianay awake, staring at the chandelier, her mind racing. The hostel was a temporary refuge, but it¡¯s luxurious, fragrant atmosphere hinted at new troubles brewing. For Eliana and Frank, their world had changed, and the path ahead was a maze of uncertainty.

 Chapter 11: A Snitch

    <h4>Chapter 11: A Snitch</h4>


    Eliana Bet¡¯s knees pressed into the plush carpet as dawn streamed through the towering windows of her hostel, drenching the room in warmth. The soft chairs, the air scented heavily with roses and sandalwood, and the glittering chandeliers above... none of it mattered. It was all beauty wrapped around brokenness.


    Frank sat perched on the edge of her queen-sized bed, dwarfed by the luxury. His shoulders curved forward, his thin fingers woven tightly together as he tried to stop their tremors. Once, those hands had lifted her high into the air, making her believe she could touch the sky. Now they trembled just trying to hold on.


    "Papa, I¡¯ve got lectures today," Eliana said softly, her eyes searching his face for a spark of the man he used to be. She adjusted the thin nket over his knees, her fingers brushing against the rough fabric of his sweater. "I can¡¯t miss them, but I won¡¯t be gone long. Promise. If you¡¯re hungry, just ask the staff for something to eat, okay? They¡¯re nice here."


    Frank¡¯s gaze lingered on the floor, his gray eyes dull, as if the weight of their losses had drained the light from them. "Alright, Eli," he murmured, his voice sounding very small. "You go. I¡¯ll be fine."


    Eliana¡¯s heart twisted, but she forced a smile, her full lips trembling slightly. "We¡¯ll figure this out, Papa. I swear." She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, her curly ck hair falling like a curtain around them. With a final nce, she grabbed her backpack, and hurried out the door, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.


    The hostel¡¯s grandeur faded behind her as the chauffeur drove her toward campus. Her mind was a tangled mess of worry and determination, so she didn¡¯t notice the sleek ck car pulling into the hostel¡¯s driveway, nor the figure that stepped out, her glossy jet-ck hair pulled into a wless high bun.


    ******


    Sarai Monroe sauntered into the hostel, her designer heels clicking sharply against the marble. She¡¯d forgotten her favorite silk scarf in her room¡ªa careless oversight that irritated her. Her sharp green eyes scanned the living room, expecting the usual quiet elegance, but froze when theynded on Frank, slumped on the cream-colored velvet couch. His faded clothes shed starkly with the room¡¯s pristine luxury, and Sarai¡¯s lips curled into a barely concealed sneer.


    "Oh my God," she said, her voice dripping with honeyed warmth as she approached, her emerald earrings catching the light. "Mr. Bet, what a surprise to see you here." She perched on the armrest of a nearby chair, crossing her legs with practiced grace. "How¡¯s your health? And how are you and Eliana holding up with... everything?"


    Frank looked up, his tired eyes softening at her kindness. "Oh, Sarai, you¡¯re sweet to ask," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "It¡¯s been rough, you know. Losing the house, the store... and my health ain¡¯t what it used to be. But Eliana, she¡¯s strong. Keeps me going."


    Sarai¡¯s smile widened, though her eyes remained cold. "Of course she is. Eliana¡¯s always been... resilient." She leaned forward, her tone soothing. "Don¡¯t you worry, Mr. Bet. Everything¡¯s going to be just fine. You¡¯ll see."


    Frank nodded, a flicker of hope crossing his face. "Thank you, Sarai. Means a lot, you being so kind."


    "Oh, it¡¯s nothing," she said, standing and smoothing her tailored zer. "You rest now." She turned, her smile vanishing the moment her back was to him. Her heels clicked furiously as she stormed down the hall to her room, her expression twisting into a mask of rage<i>. How dare she?</i> she thought, her manicured nails digging into her palms. <i>Bringing that pathetic old man here, letting him sit on our couch like he belongs in this world?</i>


    Inside her room, Sarai yanked her phone from her purse, her fingers trembling with fury as she dialed a number she knew by heart. The line connected, and a gruff voice answered. "Miss Monroe? What can I do for you?"


    "Mr. Caldwell," Sarai said, her voice low and sharp, "we have a problem. Eliana Bet has gone and brought her father to live here at the hostel. Her father, of all people, sitting on our furniture, touching our things. He¡¯s not used to ces like this, he¡¯s just a garbage collector. He could ruin everything¡ªscratch the floors, break something, drive down the property value if anyone finds out someone like him was here."


    Caldwell, the hostel¡¯s head of security and a man indebted to Sarai¡¯s father for past favors, cleared his throat. "That¡¯s... concerning, Miss Monroe. We can¡¯t have that. What do you suggest?"


    Sarai¡¯s lips curled into a wicked smile. "Just get him out. Quietly. And, Caldwell? Don¡¯t mention my name. Eliana¡¯s my friend, and I¡¯d hate for her to think I¡¯m betraying her trust. I¡¯m only telling you this because I care about this ce."


    "Of course, Miss Monroe," Caldwell said, his tone deferential. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Consider it handled."


    "You¡¯re wee," Sarai purred. "Just doing my duty as a responsible resident." She ended the call, tossing her phone onto her bed with a triumphantugh. "Oh, Eliana," she said aloud, her voice dripping with venom. "You think you can waltz into our world, y the perfect little princess, and steal Jason from me? You¡¯ll regret ever trying to belong here."


    ******


    Twenty minutester, the hostel¡¯s front doors swung open with a gust of authority. Caldwell, a burly man in a crisp suit, marched in with two security guards nking him, their boots thudding against the marble. Frank looked up, startled, as they approached, their faces stern.


    "Mr. Bet," Caldwell said, his voice clipped, "you need to leave. Now."


    Frank¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his eyes. "Leave? But... Eliana said I could stay. This is her ce, ain¡¯t it?"


    "This is a private residence," Caldwell snapped, "and you¡¯re not authorized to be here. Let¡¯s go. Don¡¯t make this harder than it needs to be."


    From the hallway, Sarai watched, her arms crossed, her expression one of feigned concern. "Oh, Mr. Caldwell, is everything okay?" she called, stepping forward with wide, innocent eyes. "What¡¯s happening to poor Mr. Bet?"


    "Just handling a situation, Miss Monroe," Caldwell replied, not meeting her gaze. "Nothing to worry about."


    Sarai ced a hand over her heart, her voice trembling with fake distress. "Oh, I hope he¡¯s alright. It¡¯s just so sad, isn¡¯t it?" She turned away, hiding a smirk as the guards grabbed Frank¡¯s arms, hoisting him from the couch as they hustled him toward the door like a discarded piece of trash.


    "Wait, please," Frank protested, his voice weak but desperate. "I ain¡¯t causing no trouble. Just let me call Eliana¡ª"


    "Out," one of the guards barked, shoving him through the ss doors. They stepped onto the manicuredwn, the gates looming ahead. "Don¡¯t loiter around here, old man, or we¡¯ll call the cops. Understand?"


    Frank stumbled, catching himself against the gate, his breath ragged. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his weathered cheeks as he fumbled for his phone. His trembling fingers dialed Eliana¡¯s number, his heart pounding with shame and fear.


    "Eli?" he said when she answered, his voice breaking. "It¡¯s me. They... they kicked me out. I¡¯m outside the hostel. Please,e back."


    ******


    In a lecture hall across town, Eliana sat hunched over her notebook, her pencil scratching furiously as she tried to focus on her professor¡¯s droning voice. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she nced at it, seeing her father¡¯s name. The moment she answered and heard his sobs, her heart plummeted, a cold dread seizing her chest.


    "Papa? What¡¯s wrong?" she whispered, her voice trembling.


    "They kicked me out," Frank repeated, his words choked with tears. "I don¡¯t know why, Eli. I didn¡¯t do nothin¡¯."


    Eliana¡¯s breath caught, her eyes darting around the room as panic surged through her. Without a word, she shoved her books into her bag and bolted from her seat, ignoring the professor¡¯s shout¡ª"Ms. Bet, where do you think you¡¯re going?"¡ªas she sprinted down the aisle. Her sneakers pounded the linoleum, her curls bouncing wildly as she raced out of the building, her heart hammering with fear and fury.


    <i>Who did this? </i>she thought, tears stinging her eyes as she ran toward the hostel, the city blurring around her. <i>And why?</i>


    The sun dipped low, spreading across the hostel¡¯s pristine gates, where Frank stood alone, his frail figure trembling in the evening chill. For Eliana, the maze of uncertainty had just grown darker, and the betrayal she couldn¡¯t yet name was closing in.

 Chapter 12: A Caring Lover

    <h4>Chapter 12: A Caring Lover</h4>


    Eliana Bet hopped into a cab the moment she left school, barely giving the driver directions before slumping into the backseat. As soon as the cab rolled to a stop in front of her hostel, she threw a few bills at the driver, swung the door open, and bolted out. Without wasting a second, she sprinted toward the hostel gates. Her sneakers pped against the pavement, each step a desperate drumbeat echoing the panic in her chest. Her honey-brown eyes, wide with dread, glistened with unshed tears, and her long hair whipped wildly in the evening breeze. The city blurred past¡ªhonking cars, distantughter, the hum of streetlights flickering to life¡ªbut all she could see was her father¡¯s frail silhouette in her mind, alone and trembling outside the hostel¡¯s iron gates.


    When she reached the entrance, her heart shattered. There stood Frank, his thin frame hunched against the cold metal bars, hisrge woven sweater pping like a tattered g in the wind. His weathered face, etched with lines of hardship, was streaked with tears, and his trembling hands clutched a crumpled paper bag that held his few belongings. The sight of him¡ªso small, so broken¡ªwed at Eliana¡¯s soul. She skidded to a stop, her breath hitching as she dropped her backpack and rushed to him.


    "Papa!" she cried, her voice cracking as she threw her arms around him. His body felt fragile, like brittle twigs beneath her embrace, and the faint scent of his familiar aftershave mingled with the damp chill of the air. "What happened? Why are you out here?"


    Frank¡¯s lips quivered, his gray eyes swimming with shame. "Eli, they... they told me to leave," he said, his voice shaking. "Said I don¡¯t belong here. I didn¡¯t mean no trouble, I swear."


    Eliana¡¯s heart lurched. She pulled back, cupping his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away his tears. "You don¡¯t have to belong anywhere but with me," she said fiercely, though her voice trembled. She turned to the two security guards standing like stone sentinels by the gate. Caldwell, the head of security, loomed over them, his burly frame intimidating in his crisp ck suit, his arms crossed and his face a mask of indifference.


    "Please, Mr. Caldwell," Eliana pleaded, stepping forward, her hands sped as if in prayer. "This is my father. He¡¯s not causing any trouble. He¡¯s sick, and he just needs to stay with me for a few nights. Just a few nights, I promise."


    Caldwell¡¯s eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. "Miss Bet, the rules are clear. This is a private residence, and we can¡¯t have unauthorized guests. An extra person stretches the property¡¯s resources¡ªwater, electricity, space. It¡¯s a liability. You should¡¯ve cleared it with management."


    "But he¡¯s my father!" Eliana¡¯s voice rose, sharp with desperation. "He¡¯s not some stranger off the street. He¡¯s not going to ruin anything. Please, just let him stay. I¡¯ll take full responsibility."


    The second guard, anky man with a buzzcut, snorted. "Rules are rules,dy. You want special treatment, take it up with the board."


    Eliana¡¯s hands balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep herposure. "This isn¡¯t about special treatment. This is about decency. He¡¯s an old man, for God¡¯s sake!"


    Frank tugged at her sleeve, his voice soft and pleading. "Eli, don¡¯t fight ¡¯em. I¡¯ll... I¡¯ll figure somethin¡¯ out. Don¡¯t want you gettin¡¯ in trouble."


    "No, Papa," she said, whirling to face him, her eyes zing. "You¡¯re not going anywhere. This is my home, and you¡¯re staying with me."


    The argument was interrupted by the low rumble of an engine. A shiny ck Mercedes rolled up to the gate, its headlights bright and blinding even with thete afternoon sun dulling it¡¯s shine. The driver¡¯s door swung open, and Jason Asher stepped out, his blonde hair catching the glimmers of sunlight. His hazel eyes scanned the scene, and his lips curled into a faint grimace as he took in Eliana¡¯s tear-streaked face and Frank¡¯s pitiful figure. In his tailored jacket and designer jeans, Jason looked every bit the golden boy, but the sight of his fianc¨¦e begging at the gate like amon vagrant made his stomach churn. <i>This is embarrassing, </i>he thought, adjusting his watch with a flick of his wrist. <i>She¡¯s my fianc¨¦e, for Christ¡¯s sake. People will talk.</i>


    "Eliana, what¡¯s going on?" Jason called, striding over with a practiced air of concern. His voice was smooth, but there was a sharp edge to it, like a de hidden in butter. He¡¯d juste from an overnight party with his friends¡ªtoo much champagne, too manyte-night confessions¡ªand the faint scent of whiskey clung to him.


    Eliana¡¯s face lit up at the sight of him, relief flooding her. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck, her voice trembling with emotion. "Jason, thank God you¡¯re here. They kicked Papa out. They won¡¯t let him stay, even for a few nights. I told them he¡¯s my father, but they don¡¯t care. They said he¡¯s a liability!"


    Jason stiffened in her embrace, his jaw tightening as he nced at the guards, then at Frank, who stood shivering by the gate. "A liability?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow at Caldwell. "What¡¯s this about?"


    Before Caldwell could respond, a familiar figure emerged from the hostel¡¯s grand entrance. Sarai Monroe glided toward them, her glossy ck hair pulled into a sleek bun, her emerald eyes glinting with feigned concern. Her designer heels clicked against the pavement, and her crimson dress hugged her curves like a second skin. "Oh my goodness, Caldwell won¡¯t still let your father into the house?" she gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. "Eliana, is everything okay? I thought this issue had been cleared an hour ago. Poor Mr. Bet, out here in the cold!"


    Eliana¡¯s eyes softened at Sarai¡¯s voice, her trust in her friend unwavering despite the sting of the situation. "Sarai, they won¡¯t let Papa stay," she said, her voice breaking. "I don¡¯t know what to do."


    Sarai¡¯s lips parted in a perfect imitation of shock, but her eyes flickered with triumph. "That¡¯s awful," she said, her tone dripping with syrupy sympathy. "Mr. Caldwell, surely there¡¯s something we can do? Eliana¡¯s family, after all."


    Caldwell cleared his throat, his gaze darting to Sarai before settling on Jason. "Mr. Asher, as I was exining to Miss Bet, the hostel has strict policies. An extra person, especially someone... unustomed to this environment, could disrupt the property¡¯s standards. We can¡¯t allow it."


    Jason¡¯s jaw clenched, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The idea of his fianc¨¦e¡¯s father¡ªa former garbage collector, no less¡ªbeing tossed out like trash in front of the hostel was a blow to his carefully curated image. He could already imagine the whispers at the country club, the snidements from his friends.<i> Jason Asher¡¯s fianc¨¦e, begging like a street rat. Pathetic.</i>


    "Alright, enough," Jason said, his voice sharp as he held up a hand. He turned to Eliana, forcing a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. "Eli, don¡¯t worry about this. I¡¯ll handle it. You and your dade with me. I¡¯ll find him a ce to stay tonight."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, gratitude flooding her. "Jason, really?" she whispered, her voice heavy with gratitude. She threw her arms around him again, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I knew you¡¯d understand."


    Frank shuffled forward, his voice hoarse but sincere. "Jason, I... I don¡¯t know how to thank you. You¡¯re a good man, lookin¡¯ out for my Eli like this."


    Jason nodded curtly, his smile tight. "Don¡¯t mention it, Frank. Let¡¯s just get you settled." He nced at the guards, his tone clipped. "We¡¯re done here."


    Sarai stood frozen, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold<i>. A ce to stay?</i> she thought, her nails digging into her palms. <i>Jason, you idiot. You¡¯re supposed to let her crash and burn, not y the hero</i>. Her lips twitched, but she forced a smile, stepping closer to Eliana. "Oh, Jason, that¡¯s so kind of you," she said, her voice sharine. "Eliana, you¡¯re so lucky to have him."


    Eliana smiled weakly, still clinging to Jason¡¯s arm. "I know," she said softly, her eyes shining with trust. "I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without him."


    As Jason led Eliana and Frank toward his car, Sarai lingered by the gate, her smile fading into a scowl. The guards exchanged a nce, sensing the storm brewing behind her perfect facade. For Eliana, the day was a blur of gratitude and relief, but for Sarai, it was a spark igniting a fire of rage. The game was far from over, and she was determined to win.

 Chapter 13: The Shadow Fighter

    <h4>Chapter 13: The Shadow Fighter</h4>


    Night had already wrapped itself around the Grand Meridian Hotel when Jason Asher¡¯s car glided into its elegant circr driveway. Eliana and her father, Frank, stepped out into the soft glow of the entrance lights. The hotel¡¯s towering ss walls shimmered like a giantntern against the dark sky.


    They followed Jason inside, Eliana clutching her father¡¯s thin arm as they walked. Her sneakers squeaked on the polished marble floor with every step. Beside her, Frank moved at a weary pace, shoulders hunched, his faded simple sweater looking painfully out of ce amidst the gleaming tiles and golden chandeliers. But Eliana didn¡¯t care. All she wanted was to get him upstairs and let him rest.


    Jason strode ahead, his tailored jacket pristine, his blonde hair catching the light like a halo. He shed a charming smile at the concierge, a young woman who blushed under his gaze. "I need a suite for my fianc¨¦e¡¯s father," he said smoothly, sliding his ck credit card across the counter. "One week, top-tier. Make itfortable."


    Eliana¡¯s honey-brown eyes widened, her heart swelling with gratitude. "Jason, you don¡¯t have to do this," she whispered, her voice trembling as she squeezed his arm. "This ce... it¡¯s too much."


    Jason turned to her, his hazel eyes softening for a moment, though a flicker of impatience danced beneath the surface. "Eli, don¡¯t worry about it," he said, his tone warm but clipped. "Your dad needs a ce to rest. I¡¯ve got this."


    Frank, his voice hoarse from a lingering cough, reached out a trembling hand. "Son, I... I don¡¯t know how to thank you. You¡¯re a saint for takin¡¯ care of my girl like this."


    Jason forced a smile, his jaw tightening. "It¡¯s nothing, Frank. Let¡¯s get you settled." He gestured to a bellhop, who scurried over to take Frank¡¯s little bag containing his clothes. As the elderly man was led toward the elevator, Eliana threw her arms around Jason, burying her face in his chest. The faint scent of whiskey clung to his shirt, but she didn¡¯t notice, too overwhelmed by relief.


    "You¡¯re my hero," she murmured, her voice muffled against him. "I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you."


    Jason patted her back, his smile strained. "Yeah, yeah, let¡¯s just get through this, okay?" In his mind, a storm brewed. <i>This is getting messy, </i>he thought. <i>She¡¯s my fianc¨¦e, but this... this is too much. People are going to talk.</i>


    *******


    Across town, in the sleek, modern offices of Wallen Properties, Sarai Monroe sat poised in a leather chair, her crimson manicured nails tapping rhythmically on the shiny mahogany desk. Her nice hair was swept into a high bun as always, and her emerald eyes glinted with almost concealed venom. The office smelled of expensive coffee and ambition, its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the city skyline. Across from her sat Mrs. Eleanor Vance, the stern-faced manager of Wallen Properties, her silver hair pulled into a tight chignon. At fifty-two, Eleanor carried herself with the authority of someone who¡¯d spent decades curating exclusivity.


    Sarai leaned forward, her voice smooth as butter butced with malice. "Mrs. Vance, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed the... decline in the hostel¡¯s reputationtely," she began, her lips curling into a sympathetic smile. "I hate to say it, but Eliana Bet is at the center of it."


    Eleanor¡¯s brow furrowed, her pen pausing over a notepad. "Miss Monroe, what exactly are you talking about?"


    Sarai sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "It¡¯s just... tragic, really. Ever since Mr. Holloway¡¯s passing, Eliana¡¯s lost everything. She can barely afford a decent meal this days, let alone the hostel¡¯s fees. And then¡ªoh, this is the worst part¡ªshe tried to sneak her father, a former garbage collector, into the property. Can you imagine? The other residents are appalled. They¡¯re saying <i>the hostel is letting in just anybody now."</i>


    Eleanor¡¯s lips thinned, her eyes narrowing. "That¡¯s a serious usation, Miss Monroe. Miss Bet has been a resident for years, and Mr. Holloway was quite fond of her."


    "Was," Sarai said pointedly, leaning closer. "But he¡¯s gone, and Eliana¡¯s no longer under his protection. People are talking, Mrs. Vance. They¡¯re saying the hostel¡¯s standards are slipping. If you don¡¯t act, the reputation you¡¯ve worked so hard to build could crumble."


    Eleanor tapped her pen against the desk, her expression hard to read. After a long pause, she nodded. "I¡¯ll look into this immediately. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Miss Monroe."


    Sarai¡¯s smile was triumphant, though she masked it with a look of concern. "Of course, Mrs. Vance. I just want what¡¯s best for the hostel." As she rose, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, a single thought burned in her mind: Eliana, you¡¯re so done.


    Three dayster, Eliana stood in the hostel¡¯s lush courtyard, her phone pressed to her ear, her heart plummeting with every word from the Wallen Properties representative. The voice on the other end was cold, professional, and unrelenting. "Miss Bet, your presence has disrupted the property¡¯s value and causedints from other residents. You¡¯re required to vacate the premises within two days. Your remaining payments will be refunded, but you are not to return."


    Eliana¡¯s knees buckled, and she sank onto a stone bench, the phone slipping from her hand. The courtyard, with its blooming roses and trickling fountain, felt like a cruel mockery of her unraveling life. <i>Why is this happening?</i> she thought, her mind spiraling. <i>First Papa, now this? What did I do wrong?</i>


    She stumbled back to her room, her vision blurred with tears. The hostel¡¯s hallways, once a symbol of the stability Keh Holloway had gifted her, now felt like a maze closing in. She copsed onto the plush sofa in the shared living room, her sobs echoing off the high ceilings. Sarai, who¡¯d been lounging with a fashion magazine, looked up, her green eyes widening in feigned shock.


    "Eliana, oh my God, what¡¯s wrong?" Sarai rushed to her side, pulling Eliana into her arms. "Baby, talk to me!"


    Eliana clung to her, her voice breaking. "They¡¯re kicking me out, Sarai. Wallen Properties called. They said I¡¯m... I¡¯m damaging the hostel¡¯s reputation. They want me gone in two days. I don¡¯t understand! I¡¯ve always paid on time, I¡¯ve never caused trouble¡ª"


    Sarai stroked her hair, her voice dripping with false warmth. "Oh, honey, that¡¯s awful! How could they do this to you? You¡¯re practically family here." She tilted Eliana¡¯s chin up, meeting her tear-streaked gaze. "Don¡¯t worry, okay? We¡¯ll figure this out. I¡¯m here for you."


    Eliana managed a weak smile, her trust in Sarai unwavering despite the chaos. "Thank you, Sarai. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you."


    Sarai¡¯s lips twitched, her smile masking the triumph surging through her. <i>Perfect</i>, she thought. <i>She¡¯s breaking, just like I wanted.</i>


    That evening, the living room was bathed in the soft light of a crystal chandelier, its light catching the gold ents of the furniture. Eliana sat curled on the sofa, her face buried in Sarai¡¯sp, her sobs quieter now but no less raw. Sarai, in a silk blouse and tailored trousers, yed the role of devoted friend, her fingers gentlybing through Eliana¡¯s curls.


    The front door swung open, and Jason strode in, his eyes scanning the scene. His gym-toned frame filled the doorway, his blonde hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze. "What the hell¡¯s going on?" he demanded, his voice sharp with irritation.


    Eliana lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen. She rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Jason, they¡¯re kicking me out," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Wallen Properties called today. They said I¡¯m ruining the hostel¡¯s reputation, that I have to leave in two days. I don¡¯t know what to do!"


    Jason froze, his arms stiff around her. In his mind, a war raged. <i>This is a disaster, </i>he thought<i>. If anyone finds out my fianc¨¦e¡¯s being tossed out like trash, it¡¯ll be all over the country club. I¡¯ll be aughingstock</i>. But as he looked into Eliana¡¯s tear-filled eyes, something unexpected stirred¡ªa pang of affection he hadn¡¯t felt in months.<i> Damn it, why can¡¯t I just cut her loose from my life?</i>


    Forcing a smile, he cupped her face. "Eli, don¡¯t worry about it. We¡¯ll figure this out. You¡¯re not alone, okay?"


    Eliana sniffled, nodding. "Okay. I just... I feel so lost."


    Sarai watched from the sofa, her arms crossed, her expression angry. Jason¡¯s gaze flicked to her, then back to Eliana. Suddenly, his face lit up, as if struck by a brilliant idea. "Wait a second," he said, his voice brightening. "Why don¡¯t youe live with me? My home has plenty of room. You¡¯ll be safe there, Eli. No more worrying about hostels or payments."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through her despair. "Jason, are you serious? You¡¯d do that for me?"


    "Of course," he said, his smile widening, though his mind screamed, <i>What am I doing?</i>


    Sarai¡¯s mouth dropped open, her green eyes zing with shock and fury. <i>Live with him? </i>she thought, her nails digging into her palms. <i>No, this wasn¡¯t the n! </i>She forced augh, her voice tight. "Wow, Jason, that¡¯s... so generous. Eliana, you¡¯re so lucky to have him."


    Eliana turned to Sarai, her face glowing with gratitude. "I know. I don¡¯t deserve him."


    Sarai¡¯s smile was brittle, her mind racing. <i>Oh, Eliana, </i>she thought. <i>You¡¯re going to regret this.</i> As Jason pulled Eliana into another embrace, Sarai¡¯s eyes narrowed, the shadow of her next move already forming.

 Chapter 14: Humiliation

    <h4>Chapter 14: Humiliation</h4>


    <strong>Three Days Later </strong>


    The Asher estate rose before them like something out of a movie ¨C all white columns, wide balconies, and endless manicuredwns that shimmered under thete summer sun. Eliana Bet felt small standing there, clutching one of the two old duffel bags stuffed with everything the Holloways had let them keep. Their borrowed pickup truck looked painfully out of ce against the pristine cobblestone driveway.


    She looked over at her father. For years, money had never been a problem. Keh Holloway had made sure of that, always sending enough to keep themfortable, to keep her father¡¯s treatments going without worry. But no amount of money could buy back a failing body. Even then, when their fridge was full and they didn¡¯t have to worry about a roof over their heads, Frank had still coughed into his handkerchief just like he did now.


    Except now, there was no one left to help.


    Frank leaned against her, his shoulders trembling with eachboured breath. His frame felt so light, so fragile, like he¡¯d disappear if she let go. Deep lines etched into his face spoke not of poverty, but of pain ¨C years of silent battles with a body that refused to heal. And with Keh gone, so was the money that had kept him afloat all this time. Still, his eyes held a soft eptance, as if he had long given up fighting whatever life threw at him.


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened as she took it all in. The mansion was too grand, too perfect. She felt like a stray kitten left at the gates of a pce.


    Inside, the foyer practically glittered. The marble floors reflected a massive chandelier hanging above them, each crystal catching the light like little stars. The faint scent ofvender polish lingered in the air, clean and expensive.


    Jason Asher stood waiting for them, shifting his weight nervously. Usually, he carried himself with that easy golden-boy confidence everyone envied at school, but right now, he just looked unsure. His hazel eyes flicked from Eliana to his parents, as if hoping they¡¯d guide him through this moment.


    Valerie Asher stepped forward first, arms stretched out like she was about to embrace an old friend rather than two people who clearly didn¡¯t belong in her world. Her silver-blonde hair was swept back into an elegant bun that didn¡¯t dare move out of ce. Beside her, Richard Asher stood like a statue in his crisp tailored suit, giving them a curt nod that felt more like an inspection than a greeting.


    Eliana felt her knees tremble slightly under the weight of it all, but she squeezed her father¡¯s arm and forced herself to stand taller.


    "Eliana dear, Frank, wee!" Vrie voice was syrupy, her smile a touch too wide. "We¡¯re just heartbroken about your situation. This is your home now, for as long as you need."


    Eliana¡¯s lips curved into a grateful smile, though her heart clenched. "Thank you, Mrs. Asher. We... we don¡¯t know how to repay you."


    "Nonsense," Richard said, his tone clipped but not unkind. "You¡¯re Jason¡¯s fianc¨¦e. That makes you family."


    Frank coughed, his voice raspy. "We¡¯re mighty grateful, sir. Won¡¯t be a burden, I promise."


    Jason stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on Eliana¡¯s shoulder. "It¡¯s temporary, Eli. We¡¯ll figure it all out, okay?" His words were warm, but his touch felt fleeting, like a breeze that slipped through her fingers.


    The first week felt like stepping into a dream. Vrie went all out, throwing a grand dinner with the table set in flickering candlelight and crystal sses that caught every glow. Eliana sat beside Jason in a dress Vrie had lent her ¨C it was a little too big, slipping off her thin shoulders, but she didn¡¯t care. Her dark curls were pinned back to show her small, heart-shaped face. Across from her, Frank looked a little better after some days of proper rest. He managed a faint smile as he slowly spooned his soup, his hands still shaky but steadier than before.


    The Ashers spent the evening telling stories about charity events and big business deals, their voices smooth with sympathy as they spoke of Eliana¡¯s "poor situation." Eliana held onto their kindness like it was life itself, her chest warm with the hope that maybe, just maybe, they had found a ce where they finally belonged.


    But that hope didn¡¯tst long.


    On the tenth day, everything changed. Eliana was passing by the study when Vrie¡¯s cold, angry voice slipped through the thick wooden door like a knife to her heart.


    "No inheritance? Not a single cent from Keh Holloway? Jason, how could you bring these... these paupers into our home?"


    Richard¡¯s baritone rumbled in agreement. "We thought she was connected, Jason. You said she was Holloway¡¯s heir!"


    Eliana froze in the hallway, her hand clutching the tray of tea she¡¯d been asked to bring. Her stomach churned, the porcin cups rattling faintly. She wanted to run, to hide, but her feet were rooted to the spot.


    Jason¡¯s voice was defensive, almost whiny. "I didn¡¯t know, okay? I thought she¡¯d at least have something!"


    Vrie¡¯sugh was cold. "Well, she doesn¡¯t. And now we¡¯re stuck with her and that sickly father of hers. This is an embarrassment, Jason."


    The tray slipped from Eliana¡¯s hands, crashing to the floor in a symphony of shattered porcin. The noise brought Vrie storming out, her hazel eyes zing. "Eliana! What are you doing, eavesdropping like some servant?"


    "I¡ªI wasn¡¯t," Eliana stammered, her cheeks burning. "I was just bringing the tea¡ª"


    "Clean it up," Vrie snapped, her voice like a whip. "And don¡¯t expect the staff to do it for you. You¡¯re not a guest anymore."


    That evening, the Asher household transformed into a golden cage. Frank, still weak from histest bout of illness, was summoned to the kitchen. Eliana found him there, hunched over a sink full of dishes, his hands trembling as he scrubbed. Her heart broke at the sight¡ªher proud, gentle father reduced to a servant in a house that had promised them refuge.


    "Papa, no," Eliana whispered, rushing to his side. "You¡¯re not well. You shouldn¡¯t be doing this."


    Frank¡¯s eyes, clouded with fatigue, met hers. "Beggars can¡¯t be choosers, Eliana. They¡¯re letting us stay. We gotta pull our weight."


    "But this isn¡¯t right!" Eliana¡¯s voice cracked, tears brimming. "They said they¡¯d take care of us until we can bounce back on our feet."


    Frank managed a weary smile. "Life ain¡¯t fair, darlin¡¯. We¡¯ll make do. Always have."


    Eliana wanted to scream, to storm upstairs and demand answers, but her father¡¯s quiet strength tethered her. She grabbed a sponge, joining him at the sink, her hands shaking with suppressed rage and shame.


    Meanwhile, Jason¡¯s betrayal cut deeper than his family¡¯s¡¯ cruelty. In the privacy of his sleek, modern bedroom, hey tangled in silk sheets with Sarai Monroe, her pretty ck hair spilling across the pillow. Her green eyes glinted with triumph as she traced a finger along his jaw. "You¡¯re really letting her stay here, Jason? After everything?"


    Jason sighed, his blonde hair mussed. "It¡¯s not like I had a choice, Sarai. If I kicked her out, it¡¯d look bad. You know how people talk."


    Sarai¡¯sugh was sharp, like breaking ss. "Oh, please. You¡¯re just too weak to cut her loose. You love ying the hero, don¡¯t you?"


    Jason¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t deny it. "It¡¯s temporary. I¡¯ll figure out a way to get her out."


    "You¡¯d better," Sarai purred, her nails digging into his arm. "Because I¡¯m not sharing you forever."


    Downstairs, Eliana sat alone in the dim library, shadows curling around her like a cold nket. Everything felt so unreal and terrifying, wrapping around her chest until she could barely breathe. She¡¯d reached out to Jason earlier, just wanting to feel his hand in hers, to remind herself she wasn¡¯tpletely alone. But he¡¯d pulled away like her touch burned him. "I¡¯m just tired, Eli," he mumbled, brushing past without even looking at her. His rejection left her aching inside, a raw painyered over the quiet humiliation of scrubbing floors all day under Valerie¡¯s sharp, mocking gaze.


    The library door creaked open, and Sarai glided in, her designer heels clicking against the hardwood. She wore a green dress that hugged her curves, her sleek bun gleaming under themplight. "Eliana, there you are!" she cooed, her voice dripping with false concern. "I¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you."


    Eliana looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but hopeful. "Sarai, I... I don¡¯t know how much more I can take. They¡¯re treating Papa like a servant, and Jason¡ªhe won¡¯t even look at me."


    Sarai sank onto the velvet settee beside her, her hand resting on Eliana¡¯s. "Oh, baby, I¡¯m so sorry. This must be so hard." Her tone was tender, but her eyes gleamed with calction. "You know, maybe it¡¯s time to think about what¡¯s best for you. This ce... it¡¯s not good for you or Frank."


    Eliana¡¯s eyebrows drew together. "But where would we even go, Sarai?" she asked quietly. "We don¡¯t have anything left. Grandpa Keh¡¯s supermarket is gone. Every single gift he ever gave us, all the money papa invested from those gifts... it¡¯s all gone. His children took everything from us. There¡¯s nothing left."


    Sarai tilted her head, her smile sympathetic but razor-sharp. "You¡¯re stronger than this, Eliana. You don¡¯t need to stay here, groveling for scraps. Maybe it¡¯s time to start fresh, somewhere new. I could help you find a ce."


    Eliana¡¯s heart lifted slightly, her trust in Sarai blinding her to the venom beneath the words. "You¡¯d do that for us?"


    "Of course," Sarai said, her voice smooth as silk. "You¡¯re my best friend. I hate seeing you like this."


    As Sarai spoke, her mind raced with ns. She¡¯d already contacted a shadyndlord willing to rent a rundown apartment to Eliana¡ªone far from the Asher estate, far from Jason. Also a perfect job for someone like her. If Sarai could push Eliana out, she¡¯d have Jason to herself, and Eliana¡¯s humiliation would beplete.


    The next morning, Eliana stood in the kitchen, apron stained, her hands raw from scrubbing pots. Vrie swept in, her perfume choking the air. "Eliana, this floor is filthy," she snapped, pointing to a spotless tile. "Do it again. And tell your father to stop dawdling in the garden. He¡¯s not here to rest."


    Eliana bit her lip, swallowing her pride. "Yes, Mrs. Asher."


    As Vrie left, Jason appeared, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eliana reached for his hand, desperate for a shred of warmth. "Jason, can we talk? Please?"


    He pulled away, his hazel eyes avoiding hers. "Not now, Eli. I¡¯ve got a meeting."


    Her voice trembled. "You¡¯re always busy. I just... I need you."


    He sighed, irritation shing across his face. "I¡¯m doing my best, okay? Just... deal with it for now."


    As he walked away, Eliana¡¯s knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, the weight of her father¡¯s humiliation and Jason¡¯s rejection crushing her. She was suffocating, trapped in a house that despised her, with nowhere to run. Yet, deep within her, a spark of resilience flickered¡ªa quiet strength that whispered she was more than this golden cage, more than the ashes of her broken dreams.


    <i>I need to get Papa out of this house,</i> she thought. <i>Maybe Sarai was the answer. Maybe she was the only way to finally make it happen.</i>

 Chapter 15: The Kindness of Sarai

    <h4>Chapter 15: The Kindness of Sarai</h4>


    Morning crept over the Asher estate, painting the mansion in warm gold. Inside the cramped servant¡¯s quarters, Eliana Bet hunched over a rickety table, scribbling a quick reminder to herself. Her slender shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and her honey-brown eyes, usually alive with quiet hope, looked tired and distant. She¡¯d tied her curls back in a messy bun to keep them out of her way, but loose strands still framed her weary face.


    The past five days felt like one endless blur¡ªscrubbing marble floors until her knees ached, dodging Vrie Asher¡¯s sharp, hateful looks, and holding tight to the only thing keeping her upright: Sarai Monroe¡¯s promise. A job. A lifeline. A fragile hope that maybe this glittering prison of gold and betrayal wouldn¡¯t swallow her whole.


    "Sarai, did you hear back about that job?" Eliana asked, her voice soft butced with worry as she caught her friend in the grand foyer. The marble floor sparkled under Sarai¡¯s designer heels, and her deep red dress clung to her like liquid silk, swaying gently as she moved. Gold earrings dangled from her ears, catching the morning light with every tilt of her head. Her sleek ck bun was wless as always, and her pretty eyes carried that same warm look Eliana hade to rely on ¨C a warmth that never quite reached the depths of her soul.


    Eliana never thought to wonder why Sarai spent so much time at Jason¡¯s house these days. In her naive hope, she only saw a friend willing to help her, never questioning whaty beneath the perfect smile and expensive perfume.


    "Oh, Eli, I¡¯m still looking, sweetheart," Sarai cooed, her voice smooth as honeyced with arsenic. She ced a manicured hand on Eliana¡¯s shoulder, her nails catching the light like tiny daggers. "It¡¯s got to be perfect for you, you know? Something... fitting. Just give me a little more time."


    Eliana¡¯s lips curved into a grateful smile, her naivety a shield against Sarai¡¯s veiled malice. "Alright, Sarai. Thank you. I just... I really need this."


    "Of course, darling," Sarai purred, her smile sharp enough to cut steel. "I¡¯ve got you."


    But Eliana wasn¡¯t one to sit idle. The next morning, she slipped out of the Asher estate before the sun rose, her sneakers crunching against the gravel drive. She scoured the city, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. Her qualifications were meager¡ªa high school diploma and nothing else¡ªbut she knocked on every door, from diners to retail shops, her hope fraying with each polite rejection. By noon, her feet ached, and her modest blouse clung to her sweat-dampened skin. At a small, bustling coffee shop called Brewed Awakening, she finally found a flicker of opportunity.


    "You ever worked a register before?" the manager, a lean man with a coffee-stained apron, asked, eyeing her skeptically.


    "No, sir," Eliana admitted, her voice steady despite the knot in her stomach. "But I¡¯m a fast learner, and I¡¯ll work harder than anyone you¡¯ve got."


    He grunted, unimpressed but desperate for staff. "Fine. Sales girl. Minimum wage. Can you start tomorrow?"


    "Yes!" Eliana¡¯s face lit up, though her mind raced with worries¡ªher sses, her father¡¯s worsening health, the tuition bills piling up like a noose. Still, she shook his hand, her grip firm. "Thank you. I won¡¯t let you down."


    The job was grueling. Eliana juggled early morning shifts at the coffee shop withte-night study sessions, her eyes burning fromck of sleep. The tips barely covered bus fare, let alone the medical bills mounting for her father, Frank, whose fever had worsen, also his cough had deepened into a rattling, ominous sound. Back at the Asher estate, she pleaded with Jason one evening, catching him in the hallway, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his blonde hair still damp from a shower.


    "Jason, please," Eliana said, her voice trembling as she reached for his arm. "Papa¡¯s medicine... it¡¯s so expensive. Can you help? Just this once?"


    Jason¡¯s eyes flickered with irritation, his usual charm dimming. "Eli, I¡¯m not a bank," he snapped, pulling his arm free. "I¡¯m doing enough letting you stay here. Figure it out."


    Her heart sank, the rejection a fresh wound. "I¡¯m trying, Jason. I just thought¡ª"


    "Yeah, well, think less and do more," he muttered, brushing past her toward the garage, his sneakers squeaking against the shiny floor.


    Two weekster, Frank¡¯s health plummeted. Eliana found him one morning in the servant¡¯s quarters, his face pale, his breath shallow. She knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. "Papa, we¡¯re getting you to the hospital," she whispered, her voice thick with tears.


    "We can¡¯t afford it, darlin¡¯," Frank rasped, his eyes clouded with pain. "Don¡¯t worry ¡¯bout me."


    But worry was all Eliana had left. Her coffee shop wages were a drop in the bucket against the hospital bills. Desperate, she turned to Sarai again, finding her in the mansion¡¯s sunlit conservatory, sipping chamomile tea, her green eyes glinting like a cat¡¯s.


    "Sarai, I¡¯m begging you," Eliana said, her voice raw. "Papa¡¯s so sick. I can¡¯t do this alone. Did you find anything yet?"


    Sarai set her teacup down with a delicate clink, her lips curving into a smile that was all teeth. "Oh, Eliana, I was just about to call you. I found the <i>perfect</i> job." She leaned forward, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "A caregiver position for a man named Rafael Vexley. He¡¯s blind, crippled, and... well, let¡¯s just say he¡¯s a challenge. But the pay¡¯s decent, and it¡¯s steady work."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, hope ring despite her exhaustion. "Really? Oh, Sarai, thank you! You¡¯re a lifesaver!"


    Sarai¡¯s smile twitched, amusement flickering in her eyes. Rafael Vexley was a puzzle no one wanted to solve. People barely knew anything about him, but his reputation said enough ¨C a cold-blooded tyrant with a rage so brutal he¡¯d scared off every caregiver who dared to step into his world. She¡¯d chosen him deliberately, a perfect torment for Eliana¡¯s bleeding heart. "Anything for my best friend," Sarai said, her voice smooth as silk. "And, good news¡ªI found you and Frank a ce. It¡¯s... modest, but it¡¯s yours if you want it. It¡¯s at the east end."


    Eliana¡¯s heart leapt, blind to the trap. "A ce of our own? Sarai, I don¡¯t know how to thank you."


    "Don¡¯t mention it," Sarai said, waving a hand, her nails catching the sunlight. "I¡¯ll send you the address. You can move in tomorrow."


    The next morning, Eliana and Frank packed their meager belongings¡ªa few worn clothes, a cracked photo frame of happier times, and Frank¡¯s old Bible. The rundown apartment Sarai had secured was in the city¡¯s roughest neighborhood, a crumbling building with graffiti-streaked walls and a flickering hallway light that buzzed like a dying insect. Eliana¡¯s heart sank as she stepped inside, the air heavy with mildew, the floorboards creaking underfoot. But she forced a smile for Frank¡¯s sake, helping him settle onto a sagging couch.


    "It¡¯s ours, Papa," she said, her voice bright despite the ache in her chest. "We¡¯ll make it home."


    Frank managed a weak nod, his hands trembling. "You¡¯re a good girl, Eliana. Always been."


    Eliana remembered thest time she saw the Ashers before she and Frank left their estate. She had found Jason¡¯s parents in the grand dining room. Vrie was sitting there, sipping her coffee with that same cold elegance, her tinum hair scraped back into a tight chignon. Beside her, Richard sat in silence, his face a mask of indifference, as if nothing in the world could touch him.


    "Mrs. Asher, Mr. Asher," Eliana began, her voice steady despite the knot in her throat. "I just wanted to thank you for letting Papa and me stay here this past month. We¡¯re moving out today, and... I¡¯m grateful for your help."


    Vrie¡¯s lips curled into a sneer, her hazel eyes glinting with disdain. "Good. You¡¯ve overstayed your wee." She extended a manicured hand, her voice sharp. "The ring, Eliana. The one Jason gave you. Hand it over."


    Eliana froze, her fingers instinctively touching the diamond engagement ring on her left hand. It was thest tether to Jason, to the dream she¡¯d once believed in. Her heart stuttered, but Vrie¡¯s gaze was unrelenting. "Now, girl. Don¡¯t make a scene."


    Richard shifted, his silence a heavy endorsement of his wife¡¯s cruelty. Eliana¡¯s eyes stung, but she slipped the ring off, the metal cold against her skin. She ced it in Vrie¡¯s outstretched palm, her fingers trembling. "Here."


    Vrie closed her hand around the ring, her smile triumphant. "Don¡¯te back, Eliana. You don¡¯t belong here."


    Eliana nodded, her throat tight. "I understand." She turned to Frank, who leaned heavily on her arm, his face pale but resolute. "Come on, Papa. Let¡¯s go."


    As they stepped out into the crisp morning air, the heavy oak doors of the Asher estate closed behind them with a final bang. Eliana¡¯s heart ached, but a spark of resilience flickered within her. She didn¡¯t know whaty ahead¡ªRafael Vexley¡¯s temper, the dangers of their new neighborhood, or the weight of her father¡¯s illness¡ªbut she knew one thing: she was stronger than the chains they¡¯d tried to bind her with. With Frank¡¯s hand in hers, she walked toward the uncertain future, her quiet strength a beacon in the gathering storm.

 Chapter 16: A Rough Start

    <h4>Chapter 16: A Rough Start</h4>


    Morning barely touched the east side of the city, its pale sun struggling to break through the heavy smog that hovered over the rooftops. In a cramped, crumbling apartment sat Eliana Bet and her father, Frank, trying to make sense of this new Chapter they hadn¡¯t asked for. Dampness clung to the peeling walls, and every corner whispered of forgotten lives and quiet surrender.


    Eliana spent yesterday unpacking what little they owned, folding faded clothes into rickety drawers and stacking cracked dishes in cupboards that groaned at her touch. Her chest felt hollow the entire time. Jason Asher¡ªshe didn¡¯t even know if she could call him her fianc¨¦ anymore¡ªhadn¡¯t called, hadn¡¯t texted, hadn¡¯t bothered to ask why she¡¯d walked out of his family¡¯s glittering world or where she¡¯d taken her frail father.


    She kept ncing at her phone, at that bright photo of them smiling in the spring sun. It felt like another lifetime. Now, the screen stayed dark in her hand, a silent reminder that she might be the only one holding onto what they once were.


    Jason, meanwhile, was tangled in satin sheets at Sarai Monroe¡¯s penthouse, his golden hair disheveled, his hazel eyes clouded with fleeting guilt. He hadn¡¯t meant to abandon Eliana¡ªnot entirely. He still felt a pang for her, for the girl who¡¯d once made his heart race with her quiet strength and honey-brown eyes. But the weight of his family¡¯s wealth, the sneers of his high-society friends, and Sarai¡¯s whispered promises had pulled him away. "You have to let go. She¡¯s not one of us anymore," Sarai had purred the night before, her eyes glinting as she traced a finger along his jaw. "You deserve better, Jason. Someone who fits."


    "I know," he¡¯d muttered, shoving down the unease in his chest. "But... Eliana¡¯s been through so much. Maybe I should check on her."


    Sarai¡¯sugh was sharp, like ss. "Check on her? Oh, please. She¡¯s probably fine, leeching off someone else¡¯s kindness. Let her go, Jason. You¡¯re an Asher. Act like it."


    He¡¯d nodded, swallowing his guilt, and let Sarai¡¯s lips distract him from the ache. Eliana, he told himself, would survive. She always did.


    Back in the east end, Eliana¡¯s first night in the new apartment had been a descent into chaos. Gunshots cracked in the distance, sharp and jarring, making her jolt upright in the lumpy bed she shared with Frank. At 2:00 a.m., the upstairs neighbor¡¯s screams pierced the night, a tirade against her children that rattled the thin ceiling. Somewhere nearby, music red¡ªthumping bass and screeching vocals that turned the apartment into a nightclub¡¯s echo. Eliana clutched the woven nket, her heart pounding, her eyes darting to Frank¡¯s weak form on the couch. His breathing was shallow, his face pale under the flickering light of a streemp outside.


    "Papa, you okay?" she whispered, slipping out of bed to kneel beside him, her voice trembling.


    Frank¡¯s eyes fluttered open, his smile weak but warm. "Just noise, Eli. Don¡¯t you worry. We¡¯ve faced worse. Go back to bed honey."


    She forced a nod, but fear gnawed at her. This neighborhood, with its violence and decay, could steal what little strength Frank had left. But they had no choice¡ªno money, no options, just this rotting roof over their heads. "We¡¯ll make it work," she said, squeezing his hand. "We always do."


    The next morning, Eliana rose with the dawn, her body heavy with exhaustion but her spirit stubbornly alight. She prepared breakfast in the cramped kitchen¡ªa meager spread of toast and watery coffee, the best she could manage with her dwindling savings. Frank watched her from the couch, his eyes soft with pride.


    "You¡¯re too good to me, Eli," he rasped, taking a sip of the coffee. "This... this is home because of you."


    She smiled, though her heart ached. "Eat up, Papa. I¡¯ve got to get ready for work. Sarai found me a job, and it starts today."


    "A job?" Frank¡¯s brow furrowed. "What kind of job?"


    "Caregiver," she said brightly, hiding her nerves. "For a man named Rafael Vexley. Sarai says it¡¯s steady work. Good pay."


    Frank¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Be careful, Eli. Rich folk can be... unkind."


    "I¡¯ll be fine," she promised, kissing his forehead. In the broken bathroom, where the sink dripped and the mirror was cracked, she bathed quickly, the cold water biting her skin. She slipped into a dress her grandfather had bought her two years ago¡ªa simple but elegant navy frock, its fabric still soft despite its age. It was her armor, a reminder of better days. She brushed her long, curly hair, pinning it back to frame her heart-shaped face, and checked her reflection. "You can do this," she whispered to herself, her brown eyes fierce with determination.


    Bidding Frank goodbye, she grabbed the address Sarai had texted her and stepped into the gritty morning. The taxi ride to Rafael Vexley¡¯s estate was a journey through worlds¡ªfrom the east end¡¯s decay to a realm of unimaginable wealth. When the cab pulled up to the gates of Vexley¡¯s estate, Eliana¡¯s breath caught. The property sprawled like a kingdom, its manicuredwns stretching endlessly, its mansion a monolith of ss and stone that dwarfed the Asher estate tenfold. Marble statues lined the drive, their faces stern, as if guarding secrets. The iron gates loomed, topped with spikes that gleamed in the sunlight.


    Eliana approached the security booth, her heart thudding. Two guards, burly men in crisp uniforms, eyed her curiously. "I¡¯m Eliana Bet," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "I¡¯m here for the caregiver position. Mr. Vexley is expecting me."


    The guards exchanged a nce, their expressions hard to decipher. One raised an eyebrow, the other shook his head slightly, a gesture Eliana missed as she clutched the strap of her bag. The first guard muttered into a radio, "New caregiver¡¯s here. Bet." A crackling voice responded, and he nodded. "Go on in," he said, his toneced with something like pity. "Good luck."


    Eliana frowned slightly but thanked them, stepping through the gates. The driveway felt endless, the crunch of gravel under her shoes the only sound besides the distant chirp of birds. The mansion loomed closer, its windows like eyes watching her approach. A butler, stiff and formal, met her at the grand entrance and led her through a foyer that gleamed with marble and crystal. Chandeliers glittered overhead, creating rainbows across the walls. Eliana¡¯s nice dress felt like a rag inparison, but she squared her shoulders, refusing to feel small.


    The butler guided her to a vast living room, its walls lined with bookshelves and modern art, its furniture sleek and cold. At its center sat Rafael Vexley, slumped in a wheelchair, his tall frame draped in a crisp ck suit. His dark, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and his steel-grey eyes¡ªclouded, or so it seemed¡ªstared nkly ahead. He was yelling, his voice a low, venomous growl that sent a chill through Eliana.


    "You call this coffee?" Rafael snapped, his hand gripping a porcin cup. A young maid stood before him, her face pale, her hands sped tightly. "It¡¯s sludge! Do you think I¡¯m some fool who can¡¯t tell the difference?"


    "I-I¡¯m sorry, sir," the maid stammered, her voice trembling. "I¡¯ll make another¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t bother!" Rafael¡¯s arm shot out, hurling the cup at her. The maid gasped, ducking just in time as the porcin shattered against the shiny marble floor, fragments skittering like tiny des.


    Eliana froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes widened, her pulse racing as she took in the scene¡ªthe maid¡¯s trembling form, Rafael¡¯s cold fury, the glittering shards on the floor. Fear coiled in her chest, but she forced herself to step forward, her voice soft but firm. "Mr. Vexley?"


    Rafael¡¯s head snapped toward her, his grey eyes narrowing, though they seemed unfocused, as if he couldn¡¯t see her. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut.


    Eliana swallowed, her hands tightening around her bag. "I¡¯m Eliana Bet. Your new caregiver."


    The maid scurried away, casting a grateful nce at Eliana. Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Another one? What¡¯s this, the fifth this month? Did they warn you I¡¯m a nightmare, Miss Bet?"


    Eliana¡¯s heart pounded, but she met his gaze, her voice steady despite the fear. "They didn¡¯t need to. I can handle a challenge."


    Rafael¡¯sugh was cold, mirthless. "Oh, you¡¯re brave. Or stupid. We¡¯ll see which." He gestured to the shattered cup. "Clean that up. And don¡¯t expect me to thank you."


    Eliana hesitated, her eyes flicking to the shards, then back to Rafael. His face was a mask of disdain, but beneath it, she glimpsed something¡ªpain, perhaps, or loneliness. She knelt, gathering the pieces carefully, her hands steady despite the storm in her chest. This was her new reality, and she¡¯d face it head-on, just as she always had.

 Chapter 17: The Billionaire’s Offer

    <h4>Chapter 17: The Billionaire¡¯s Offer</h4>


    The tension in Rafael Vexley¡¯s luxurious living room felt like a thick nket pressing down on everyone. The sharp smell of coffee mixed with something sour¡ªfear. Eliana Bet knelt on the cold marble floor, her slender fingers trembling slightly as she gathered the jagged shards of the shattered porcin cup. Each piece glinted under the chandelier¡¯s light, catching prisms of color that danced mockingly across her navy blue dress. Her heart thudded, but her face remained a mask of determination, her brown eyes focused on the task despite the storm brewing in her chest.


    A soft rustle pulled her attention. The young maid Rafael had thrown the cup at, slipped back into the room. She knelt beside Eliana, her face pale, her small hands moving quickly to gather thest fragments. Her name tag read "ra," but her wide, frightened eyes said more. She leaned in, whispering so quietly it was almost lost. "You don¡¯t have to do this," she said, her voice trembling. "He¡¯s... he¡¯s not always like this."


    Eliana offered a small, reassuring smile, though her stomach churned. "It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ve got it." Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet strength that belied the uncertainty gnawing at her. Together, they swept the shards into a small pile, the clinking of porcin a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the room.


    From his wheelchair at the center of the space, Rafael¡¯s voice cut through the silence. "Are you done ying maid, Miss Bet? Or do you need an audience for your charity work?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, each wordced with a venom that made ra flinch. He sat tall despite his supposed frailty, his dark wavy hair falling over his forehead, his steel-grey eyes¡ªclouded, or so it seemed¡ªfixed in her direction. His crisp ck suit was immacte, a stark contrast to the chaos he¡¯d just unleashed.


    Eliana rose, brushing her hands on her dress, and met his gaze, refusing to cower. "I¡¯m done, Mr. Vexley. What do you need now?" Her voice held a calm defiance, though her pulse raced.


    Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, cold and calcting. "Push me to my room. And be quick about it. I don¡¯t have all day for your dawdling."


    Eliana hesitated, her eyes flicking to ra, who gave a subtle nod toward a hallway beyond the living room. "His room¡¯s that way," ra murmured, her voice barely a breath. "I¡¯ll show you."


    Eliana stepped behind the wheelchair, her hands gripping the handles tightly. The metal was cool under her palms, and the weight of Rafael¡¯s presence was heavier still. She pushed forward, the wheels gliding smoothly over the polished floor, while ra led the way, her footsteps quick and nervous. The hallway stretched endlessly, its walls adorned with abstract paintings in muted golds and blues, their shapes swirling like trapped emotions. Crystal sconces formed soft light, illuminating the path to a pair of double doors carved with intricate patterns of vines and roses.


    ra paused at the doors, her hand hovering over the handle. "This is it," she said softly, her eyes darting to Rafael, who remained silent, his jaw tight. She pushed the doors open, revealing a room that was both breathtaking and austere. A massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark wood gleaming under the soft glow of a chandelier. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the estate¡¯s sprawling gardens, where roses bloomed in fiery reds and delicate whites. A mahogany desk sat in one corner, strewn with papers and a sleekptop, while a leather armchair faced a firece that crackled faintly, its warmth doing little to soften the room¡¯s cold grandeur.


    ra gave Eliana a fleeting, sympathetic nce before slipping out, the doors closing with a soft click that echoed like a warning. Eliana stood behind Rafael, her hands still on the wheelchair, her heart pounding in the sudden silence. The room felt like a cage, beautiful but suffocating, and Rafael¡¯s presence filled it like a storm waiting to break.


    "Come closer," Rafael said abruptly, his voice low andmanding. He tilted his head slightly, as if sensing her hesitation. "I want to know what you look like."


    Eliana¡¯s brow furrowed, her fingers tightening on the wheelchair. "What?"


    "I¡¯m blind, Miss Bet," he said, his toneced with mockery, though his expression remained unreadable. "I see with my hands. Let me feel your face."


    Her breath caught, a flush creeping up her neck. The request felt invasive, almost intimate, and yet there was something in his voice¡ªa challenge, perhaps, or a test. She stepped around the wheelchair, her movements slow, her worn dress brushing against her legs. Standing before him, she felt exposed, her heart a frantic drumbeat. Rafael¡¯s hands, long and elegant, reached out, hovering in the air as if waiting for permission.


    "Fine," she said, her voice only a whisper. She leaned forward slightly, her curls falling over her shoulders, and closed her eyes as his fingers brushed her cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, tracing the curve of her jaw, the soft slope of her cheekbone, the fullness of her lips. His hands moved to her arms, his fingers grazing the thin fabric of her sleeves, mapping her slender frame with a precision that felt almost clinical. Eliana¡¯s skin prickled, a mix of difort and curiosity swirling in her chest. She opened her eyes, meeting his clouded gaze, and for a moment, she swore she saw a flicker of something¡ªawareness, perhaps, or calction.


    Rafael leaned back, his hands falling to hisp. "You¡¯ll do," he said nonchntly, his voice devoid of warmth.


    Eliana blinked, confusion knitting her brow. "What does that mean?"


    He smirked, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. "It means, Miss Bet, that I have an offer for you." He paused, letting the silence stretch, his grey eyes fixed on her as if he could see every thought racing through her mind. "Bear me a child. In exchange, I¡¯ll give you a fortune¡ªenough to fix that crumbling life of yours. A new house, cars, connections perhaps. No more scraping by."


    The words hit her like a p, stealing the air from her lungs. Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" she choked out, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Are you serious?"


    "Deadly," Rafael replied, his tone cool and unyielding. "I need an heir. It¡¯s obvious you need money. It¡¯s a simple transaction."


    Eliana¡¯s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "I¡¯m not a gold digger," she snapped, her voice rising with a mix of anger and humiliation. "And I¡¯m definitely not a prostitute."


    Rafael raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "No? Then what are you, Miss Bet? A saint? A martyr? You¡¯re here, in my house, because you need this job. Don¡¯t pretend you¡¯re above temptation."


    Her cheeks burned, her heart pounding so loudly she thought it might burst. "I¡¯m engaged," she said, her voice shaking but firm. "To someone who actually cares about me. Not that you¡¯d understand what that means."


    Rafael¡¯sugh was sharp, cutting. "Engaged? To that boy who¡¯s probably cheating on you as we speak? Oh, don¡¯t look so shocked. I know his type. Jason Asher, isn¡¯t it? Spoiled, entitled, Hazel eyes and a smile that fools everyone¡ªexcept me."


    Eliana froze, her breath hitching. How did he know about Jason? Her mind raced, but her anger surged hotter. "You don¡¯t know anything about me or him," she spat, stepping back. "I¡¯m not your pawn, and I¡¯m not for sale."


    She turned on her heel, her curls bouncing as she stormed toward the double doors. Her hands shook as she yanked them open, the hinges groaning under her force. Rafael¡¯s voice followed her, calm and mocking. "Run all you want, Miss Bet. But you¡¯ll be back. Poverty has a way of breaking even the proudest hearts."


    Eliana didn¡¯t look back. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, each one a deration of defiance. Her heart ached, not just from Rafael¡¯s cruel offer but from the seed of doubt he¡¯d nted about Jason. She pushed it down, refusing to let it take root. She was Eliana Bet, and she¡¯d faced worse than a cold-hearted billionaire. But as she stepped out into the blinding sunlight, the weight of his words clung to her like a shadow, whispering that her world was about to unravel.

 Chapter 18: Heartbreaks

    <h4>Chapter 18: Heartbreaks</h4>


    The evening air nipped at Eliana Bet¡¯s skin as she walked down the cracked sidewalk toward home. Rafael Vexley¡¯s words still twisted in her chest, making every step feel heavy. Her old dress slippers scraped against the pavement, each scuff echoing the anger bubbling inside her. <i>Bear me a child. In exchange, I¡¯ll give you a fortune. </i>His cold voice reyed in her mind like a cruel joke, his steel-grey eyes shing with arrogant certainty. Did he really think she could be bought so easily? That her struggles made her cheap? Her cheeks burned with the memory, and she clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. "Arrogant jerk," she muttered under her breath.


    Eliana climbed the cracked steps up to the fourth floor of the crumbling apartment building she called home. The streets below buzzed with distant shouting and the whine of motorbikes, but up here, only a single streemp flickered in the dark, its dim light spilling over the stained walkway outside. Paint curled away from the walls of her apartment in brittle curls, revealing the splintered wooden door beneath. She slipped her key into the lock and pushed the door open, wincing at the groan of its hinges. The smell inside wrapped around her like a worn nket¡ªold wood, stale air, and the sharp medicinal smell of her father¡¯s cough syrup.


    "Eliana, sweetheart?" Frank¡¯s voice was soft, raspy, his dark eyes searching her face as she dropped her bag by the door. "You¡¯re back early. What happened at that fancy job Sarai got you?"


    Eliana froze, her throat tightening. She forced a smile, though it felt like a lie. "It... wasn¡¯t for me, Papa," she said, her voice quieter than she intended. She crossed the room, kneeling beside him, her hands gently adjusting the nket. "I¡¯ll find something else. Something better."


    Frank¡¯s brow furrowed, his hand trembling as he reached for hers. "You look upset, sweetheart. What¡¯d they do to you up there in that big house?"


    "Nothing worth talking about," she replied, her tone clipped. She couldn¡¯t bear to tell him about Rafael¡¯s proposition, the way it had stripped her bare, exposing her vulnerability. Nor could she admit how much it hurt to walk away from a job Sarai had worked so hard to secure for her. Sarai, her best friend, who¡¯d always had her back¡ªor so Eliana believed. "I just... I couldn¡¯t do it. That¡¯s all."


    Frank studied her, his gaze heavy with concern, but he nodded. "Alright, sweetheart. You¡¯ll figure it out. You always do." His cough broke the silence, sharp and painful, and Eliana¡¯s heart twisted as she handed him a ss of water from the side table.


    "Rest, Papa," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "I¡¯ve got this."


    The next morning, Eliana slipped into her faded apron at the coffee shop, the familiar hum of the espresso machine grounding her. The scent of roasted beans and sugary pastries filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile luxuriousness of Rafael¡¯s mansion. Her boss, Mr. Dney, a lean man with a perpetually furrowed brow, eyed her as she tied her curls into a messy bun.


    "Eliana, you look like you¡¯ve been through the wringer," he said, wiping down the counter. "Where were you yesterday? Can¡¯t just disappear like that."


    "I¡¯m so sorry, Mr. Dney," Eliana said, her voice earnest. "I was... really sick. Couldn¡¯t even get out of bed. It won¡¯t happen again, I promise."


    He grunted, tossing the rag over his shoulder. "Lucky for you, I¡¯m short-staffed. But don¡¯t pull that again without a call, got it? Next time, you¡¯re out."


    "Yes, sir," she said, relief washing over her. She dove into her shift, steaming milk and scribbling orders, her smile masking the ache in her chest.


    For nine days, life settled into a fragile rhythm. Eliana worked grueling shifts at the coffee shop, her hands stained with coffee grounds, her feet aching from hours on her feet. She attended her college sses when she could, though her professors¡¯ sharp words¡ª"You¡¯re not taking this course seriously, Miss Bet"¡ªcut deeper each time. Her father¡¯s cough worsened, his fevers spiking unpredictably, and their meager savings dwindled on medications that barely helped. Jason still hadn¡¯t reached out, and Sarai ¨C her rock ¨C was oddly silent. Their absence felt like a wound she pretended didn¡¯t exist. But Eliana kept moving forward, holding herself together with a quiet strength, even as the world felt heavier each day.


    <strong>********</strong>


    On the tenth night, Eliana stumbled through the door, her legs heavy from working a double shift. Every muscle in her body ached, and all she wanted was to hear her father¡¯s voice telling her she¡¯d done well. But the house was silent. The dim hallway smelled faintly of stale coffee and old newspapers. Somewhere in the kitchen, a leaky faucet dripped steadily, the only sound echoing in the darkness.


    "Papa? I¡¯m home!" she called out, forcing her voice to sound bright despite the exhaustion weighing it down.


    All she heard was silence.


    A cold prickle ran down her spine. She flicked on the light, her breath catching in her throat. There, sprawled across the worn linoleum floor, was Frank. Her father¡¯s chest was still, his face pale under the flickering bulb.


    "Papa!" The word ripped out of her in a broken scream. She dropped to her knees, her hands trembling as she reached for his wrist, desperate to feel any hint of a pulse. But there was nothing. Tears blurred her vision as she fumbled with her phone, nearly dropping it twice before managing to punch in the numbers.


    "Please," she sobbed when the operator answered, her voice breaking as she tried to form the words. "My father¡¯s not breathing. Please hurry."


    The ambnce arrived in a rush of shing red lights and hurried footsteps. Paramedics poured into the cramped apartment, their uniforms brushing against peeling wallpaper as they moved with calm urgency. Eliana stood back against the wall, her hands clenched so tight her knuckles burned. She whispered broken prayers between her sobs, her eyes locked on the paramedics as they knelt beside her father, attaching wires, checking his pulse, and pushing down on his chest in desperate rhythm.


    Time blurred. The ride to the hospital felt like floating in a nightmare she couldn¡¯t wake from. When they arrived, the harsh smell of antiseptic and the blinding white lights made her stomach twist. Everything felt too clean, too bright, too empty.


    She sat hunched in a steel chair, numb, staring at her hands when a doctor approached. The woman looked tired but kind, with gentle brown eyes and greying hair pulled back into a neat bun.


    "Miss Bet?" she said softly.


    Eliana¡¯s head snapped up, hope and dread warring in her chest.


    "I¡¯m sorry," the doctor continued, her voice calm but edged with urgency. "Your father has pulmonary fibrosis. It¡¯s a serious lung condition ¨C scar tissue builds up and makes it hard to breathe. That¡¯s what caused his coughing, the fevers, and now the fainting."


    Eliana swallowed, her throat raw. "Can you fix it?"


    "If it¡¯s caught early, treatment can help manage it, sometimes even let people live a normal life for years," the doctor said, her eyes softening with pity. "But in his case... it¡¯s progressed significantly. We¡¯ll need to start aggressive treatment right away to give him a chance. And..." She paused, her expression tightening, "it¡¯s going to be expensive."


    Eliana¡¯s chest ached as if her heart itself was cracking under the weight of reality. "How much?" she whispered, barely able to form the words.


    The doctor sighed, her expression weary. "With hospital stays, medications, and possible surgery... it¡¯ll be in the tens of thousands. At least."


    Eliana felt her knees give out, but she grabbed the edge of the steel chair to keep herself upright. Tens of thousands? She didn¡¯t even have enough to cover next month¡¯s rent. No savings. No safety. Just her and Papa, living day to day on tips and double shifts.


    The next morning, desperation gnawed at her chest as she trudged down the street to the coffee shop and straight to Mr. Dney¡¯s office. The man sat behind his battered wooden desk, stacks of unpaid invoices surrounding him like paper towers.


    "Please," Eliana whispered, her voice shaking as she forced herself to meet his tired eyes. "I¡¯m begging you... I just need something upfront, or even a small loan, it¡¯s for my father. He¡¯s... he¡¯s really sick."


    Mr. Dney leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his temples. "Eliana," he said softly, "I¡¯m barely keeping this ce afloat. I don¡¯t have that kind of money. I¡¯m sorry."


    The finality in his tone made her stomach twist with shame and fear. She swallowed hard, nodding as tears burned her eyes. "Thank you anyway," she whispered, backing out of his office before her sobs broke free.


    She spent the rest of the day in a haze of hopelessness. As evening settled in, Eliana pulled out her phone, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped it. She scrolled to Jason¡¯s name, her thumb hovering over the call button. <i>He might know what to do,</i> she told herself, clinging to the memory of the boy who always came through for her, back when things were good... back when he still cared.


    Taking a shaky breath, she swallowed her pride and pressed call, praying he¡¯d pick up.


    It rang and rang. No answer. She called again. Still nothing.


    Her heart hammering, she switched to Sarai¡¯s number, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. Sarai would help. She always helped.


    But Sarai didn¡¯t pick up either. Eliana called over and over until her thumbs went numb. By nightfall, neither of their numbers would even ring ¨C blocked, disconnected, gone.


    Eliana sank onto the edge of her mattress, staring nkly at the peeling wallpaper on her wall. The silence in her tiny apartment felt louder than any scream.


    "They¡¯re probably just busy," she whispered to herself, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She forced herself to take a shaking breath, clinging to the only hope she had left. "They wouldn¡¯t abandon me. Not Sarai. She wouldn¡¯t do that."


    <strong>********</strong>


    On the twelfth day, Eliana stood before her cracked bedroom mirror, tugging down the hem of her dress¡ªa simple pink frock that hugged her slender frame just right. She ran her brush through her curls until they gleamed under the weak bulb¡¯s glow, whispering a shaky prayer. "Please... just let today be different," she breathed, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. She needed Jason and Sarai now more than ever.


    The private hostel where they lived loomed like a fortress, guarded by high walls and iron gates. Security officers patrolled the entrance, men in stiff uniforms who knew her face but she knew they¡¯d never let her through without suspicion. After all, she had been kicked out.


    As she approached, she lifted her chin, forcing her spine straight even though her knees felt weak.


    "Miss Bet, you know the drill," grunted Carl, a stocky guard with a round face and bored eyes. He crossed his arms, blocking her path. "Residents only. Unless you¡¯re on the list."


    Eliana forced out a bright smile, ignoring the tightness in her chest. "I know, Carl, but Sarai asked me to drop off her notes for finals. She¡¯s expecting me. It¡¯s urgent¡ªher professor¡¯s strict about submissions."


    Carl studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing, before he sighed and waved her in. "Make it quick."


    Relief washed over her like cool water on sunburned skin as she stepped into the hostel¡¯s grand lobby. Marble floors stretched out beneath her feet, polished to a mirror sheen, and crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. She remembered walking these halls with pride once, back when she still had Grandpa H. The memory burned, but she pushed it down, focusing on her mission.


    She hurried to Jason¡¯s room first, knocking softly. But silence was all she heard. She tried again, pressing her ear to the door, but there was nothing. Her stomach twisted painfully.


    Determined, she turned down the hallway and approached Sarai¡¯s suite. Plush carpet muffled her footsteps as she neared the heavy wooden door. It was slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the hallway.


    She raised her hand to knock, but paused when she heard voices¡ªlow, intimate, familiar in a way that made her chest tighten with dread. Heart hammering, she leaned forward and peered through the gap.


    Inside, Saraiy sprawled across her silk-sheeted bed, her long glossy hair tumbling over the pillows. Jason was above her, his golden hair damp with sweat, his bare shoulders glistening under the softmplight. Sarai¡¯s legs were hooked around his waist as she let out a tinklingugh, a sound both cruel and triumphant.


    "Ahh, Jason, you¡¯re so much better with me," Sarai purred, her manicured nails trailingzy patterns down his back. "Eliana¡¯s just... pathetic. She could never keep up."


    Jason chuckled softly, brushing his lips against her neck. "She¡¯s sweet, yeah. But you¡¯re fire, Sarai. You always have been."


    Something inside Eliana broke with a quiet, devastating snap. Her breath hitched, and she pped a trembling hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. Tears welled up, blurring her vision until the image of them twisted and melted into cruel colours.


    She stumbled back, the door creaking under her shaky grip, but they didn¡¯t notice. Her fianc¨¦. Her best friends. Tangled together, whispering poison about her between gasps of pleasure.


    The hallway spun around her, the chandelier lights smearing into gold and white streaks as she backed away. Her prayers, her trust, her love¡ªall of it shattered in an instant, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in her chest and a bitter taste of betrayal on her tongue. The world she¡¯d clung to crumbled around her, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but her and the cold, brutal truth.

 Chapter 19: What is Dignity?

    <h4>Chapter 19: What is Dignity?</h4>


    Eliana burst out of the hostel, her chest aching like someone had driven a fist straight through her ribs. Her world felt cracked and broken, her heart splintered into a thousand sharp pieces she couldn¡¯t hold together.


    All she could see was them¡ªJason and Sarai¡ªburned into her mind like an ugly scar. Jason¡¯s mouth pressed against Sarai¡¯s neck, Sarai throwing her head back with that smug littleugh. Their voices rang in her ears, cruel and mocking, tearing through her like ss.


    How could they do this to her? Jason, the man she¡¯d nned her future with, the boy she¡¯d grown up loving. And Sarai¡ªSarai, who¡¯d been like a sister since they were kids, who knew every secret she¡¯d ever whispered in the dark.


    They¡¯d crushed her trust like it was nothing. Thrown it in the dirt and stepped on it while theyughed together.


    Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot against her skin, making the world shimmer and blur. The marble lobby twisted in her vision as she stumbled forward, her old sneakers squeaking and pping against the polished floor.


    Carl, the security guard, just stood there gaping at her, his mouth half-open as if words were trapped on his tongue. She didn¡¯t look at him. She just ran past him into the quiet afternoon, where no one could see her heart breaking.


    "Miss Bet?!"


    Carl finally snapped out of his shock as his voice chased her down the steps, but Eliana didn¡¯t stop. She couldn¡¯t. Her legs moved on their own, pushing her away from that ce, from the truth that felt too heavy to breathe under.


    Cold air burned in her lungs as she ran. Her pink dress clung to her legs, damp with sweat and tears, while her curls bounced wildly around her face. She didn¡¯t even know where she was going¡ªshe just kept running until the hostel lights faded behind her.


    Finally, she slowed to a shaky walk and realized she was in the old park near downtown. The sky was turning cloudy, streaked with fading purple and gold. Ancient oak trees stretched their branches overhead, creating quiet shadows across the worn path.


    The park was empty. Just the whisper of leaves above her and the low hum of distant traffic. It felt like the world itself was holding its breath.


    Eliana dropped onto a splintered wooden bench, her body folding in on itself as sobs ripped out of her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pressed her forehead to them, trying to keep herself from falling apart.


    "They wouldn¡¯t... they couldn¡¯t..." she whispered into the hollow space between her knees. Her voice cracked, trembling with disbelief. Her eyes, puffy and red, stared at nothing as tears dripped onto her dress.


    "Jason promised me forever," she choked out, feeling the words shatter in her throat. "And Sarai... she was my sister. My family."


    But the words felt empty, like she was clutching at smoke. Memories flooded her mind¡ªJason¡¯s warm hazel eyes when he slid that perfect diamond ring onto her finger. Sarai¡¯s bright grin as theyy on the dorm floor braiding each other¡¯s hair until sunrise.


    All of it felt fake now. Lies. Every smile, every promise, every moment they¡¯d given her.


    For five hours, Eliana sat there, lost in her grief. The sky darkened, stars winking into existence, but she didn¡¯t notice. Her tears fell in a steady rhythm, soaking the cor of her dress. When the first raindrops pattered against her skin, she barely registered them. The drizzle turned into a downpour, drenching her curls until they hung in heavy, sopping strands. Her dress clung to her like a second skin, but she didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t care. The rain mingled with her tears, washing away thest remnants of her hope.


    "Hey, miss! You okay?"


    A voice snapped Eliana out of her daze. She blinked up through blurry eyes to see a woman standing in front of her, holding a bright yellow umbre. She looked to be in her fifties, with a round, kind face wrapped in a floral scarf. Worry creased her eyes as she frowned down at Eliana.


    "You¡¯ll catch your death sitting out here like this," the woman said gently. "Come on, love. Find somewhere warm to go."


    Eliana stared, dazed, as if waking from a dream. The park came into focus¡ªthe rain-slicked bench, the puddles pooling around her feet, the cold seeping into her bones. "I... I¡¯m sorry," she mumbled, her voice hoarse. She stood, wobbling slightly, and the woman reached out as if to steady her.


    "No need to apologize, just get somewhere warm, alright?" the woman said, her tone gentle but firm. Eliana nodded numbly, her feet moving before her mind caught up. She trudged to the nearest bus stop, rain dripping from her fingertips, and boarded a bus to the hospital. She sat in the back, her soaked dress leaving a puddle on the seat, her eyes vacant. She felt like a ghost, hollow and drifting, the world around her muted and gray.


    <strong>**********</strong>


    Meanwhile, across town, in a massive mansion that practically glowed against the dark hills, Rafael Vexley sat in his office by a giant window overlooking the city lights. His wheelchair faced the ss, but his steel-grey eyes¡ªsharp and cold despite what everyone believed about his blindness¡ªwere fixed on the stack of papers spread across his polished mahogany desk.


    Beside him stood James, his assistant. James was the type who never looked ruffled, with his crisp ck suit, neatly trimmed beard, and a tablet glued to his hand. He read off updates in his calm, clipped voice.


    "Mr. Vexley, the merger with Horizon Tech is on track, but we need your approval on the final terms," James said, tapping his stylus against the screen. He hesitated, then added, "Also... it¡¯s been over a week since Miss Betst showed up. Should I start looking for a new caregiver?"


    Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a sardonic smile, his chiseled jaw tightening. He leaned back in his wheelchair, his crisp navy suit impable despite thete hour. "James, don¡¯t waste your time," he said, his voice low and edged with mockery. "Eliana will be back. Everyone has a price, and she¡¯s no different. Money talks, always has."


    James raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You sure about that, sir? She seemed... different. Not like the others."


    Rafael chuckled, a cold, bitter sound. "Different? Please. She¡¯s just another soul waiting to be bought. Give it time. She¡¯ll crawl back when she¡¯s desperate enough." He waved a hand dismissively, his gaze drifting to the window, where rain streaked the ss like tears.


    Back at the hospital, Eliana stepped off the bus, her sneakers squelching on the wet pavement. The fluorescent lights of the emergency entrance buzzed overhead as she pushed through the doors, her heart heavy. She made her way to her father¡¯s room, where Dr. Patel, another kind-eyed doctor with graying hair, was waiting. His face was grim, his hands sped tightly in front of him.


    "Miss Bet," he began, his voice soft but heavy, "I¡¯m sorry, but we¡¯re running out of time. Your father¡¯s condition is deteriorating. Without the funds for his treatment... I¡¯m afraid he has less than a week if we continue this way."


    The words hit her like a bucket of ice water down her spine. Eliana¡¯s knees buckled, and she sank into a stic chair, her hands covering her face. "No... no, please," she whispered, tears spilling anew. "I¡¯ll find a way. I¡¯ll get the money, I swear." But her voice cracked, and the sobs came again, raw and unstoppable. She cried for her father, for the betrayal, for the life she¡¯d thought she had. The hospital¡¯s sterile walls seemed to close in, suffocating her.


    Then, like a flicker of candlelight in a pitch-dark room, a memory rose up through Eliana¡¯s panic¡ªRafael Vexley¡¯s offer. That cold, ruthless billionaire had promised her a life of unimaginable luxury, all in exchange for one thing: a child. His child. Last week, she¡¯d walked away, clutching her dignity like a shield. She¡¯d sworn never to sell her body or her future, no matter what.


    But now? Now, dignity felt like a pretty ss ornament she could no longer afford to keep. Not when her fathery dying, and the only way to save him was money she didn¡¯t have. Money Rafael had in excess. Swallowing the bitter taste of her pride, she closed her eyes and made her choice.


    With thest few crumpled bills warming her palm, she stepped out into the night¡¯s downpour and gged down a passing cab. Rain dripped from her soaked hair and dress as she slid into the backseat, shivering. "Vexley estate," she whispered to the driver, her voice barely holding together.


    The cab wound its way through the city streets, neon signs smearing like paint across the windows. Eliana stared out at the passing world, her heart pounding louder with every turn they took. Finally, at 8:12 p.m., the car rolled to a stop in front of Rafael¡¯s mansion. Tall iron gates loomed before her, guarding the glowing pce within.


    She stepped out, her dress clinging to her body, heavy with rainwater. Cold air bit at her arms as she hugged herself for warmth. A burly security guard with a buzz cut eyed her sharply, his gaze lingering on her drenched figure.


    "Name and purpose?" he demanded, his voice t and unfeeling.


    Eliana lifted her chin, ignoring the tremor in her legs. "Eliana Bet," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I¡¯m Mr. Vexley¡¯s caregiver... Please. Let me in."


    The guard nced at his tablet, his face impassive under the glow of the security lights. After a silent second, he nodded and pressed a button, buzzing her through the massive iron gates. Eliana stepped forward, her shoes squelching with each step along the stone path.


    At the mansion¡¯s grand entrance, a maid swung the door open, her eyes going wide at the sight before her. "Oh, sweetheart, you¡¯re drenched!" she eximed, rushing forward with a thick, fluffy towel. She pressed it into Eliana¡¯s trembling hands. "Here. Dry off before you catch your death."


    Eliana dabbed at her face and arms, trying to rub away the chill sinking into her bones. Water dripped from her curls onto the marble floor, leaving tiny, trembling puddles behind as the maid led her deeper into the house.


    They passed gilded mirrors, velvet curtains, and glimmering chandeliers that sparkled like ice under the dim lights. Finally, the maid stopped in front of a heavy oak door and gave her an encouraging nod before pushing it open.


    The scent of leather and expensive cologne hit Eliana instantly. Inside, Rafael Vexley sat in his wheelchair by the tall window, his broad shoulders wrapped in a perfectly tailored ck suit. He was staring out into the night, the city lights casting fractured reflections across his steel-grey eyes.


    James, his secretary was gathering papers into a sleek folder, ready to leave for the evening. Eliana stood at the doorway, clutching the towel like a lifeline as her heart thudded in her chest.


    She cleared her throat, her voice small against the distant patter of rain against the windows. "Mr. Vexley," she said softly.


    He turned his head slightly, his gaze flicking to her, unreadable and cool. For a fleeting moment, something sparked in those silver eyes¡ªcuriosity, or maybe faint amusement.


    "Miss Bet," he drawled, his voice smooth and dark like aged whiskey. "Back so soon? I thought your pride would keep you away a little longer."


    Her fingers twisted into the towel, knuckles paling with the force of her grip. "I... I¡¯m sorry I left," she whispered, her brown eyes darting to his before dropping to the shiny floor. "If your offer still stands, I¡¯ll do whatever you ask. Anything. I just... I need help with my father¡¯s hospital bills. Please."


    A ghost of a smile curved at his lips, cold and knowing. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharpening despite their clouded greyness. "Anything, you say?" he murmured, his tone curling with intrigue. "Well, Miss Bet... let¡¯s see just how far your desperation takes you."

 Chapter 20: The Arms of a Predator

    <h4>Chapter 20: The Arms of a Predator</h4>


    The air in Rafael Vexley¡¯s office carried that rich scent of old leather and his expensive sandalwood cologne ¨C the kind of smell that said power without needing words. Rain mmed against the tall windows, each drop adding to the restless energy in the room.


    Eliana Bet stood just inside the doorway, soaked to the bone. Her thin dress clung to her shivering frame as she hugged a damp towel to her chest, like it could protect her from the storm inside and out. Her big brown eyes flicked between the shining marble floor and the man by the window, fear and determination flickering together.


    James, Rafael¡¯s ever-efficient secretary, froze mid-step, his armsden with a sleek leather folder. His sharp blue eyes widened at the sight of Eliana, her curls stered to her face, water pooling at her feet. <i>Rafael was right, </i>he thought, a bitter edge to his inner voice. <i>Everyone has a price. </i>Even her. He¡¯d seen countless people bend under the weight of necessity, their pride crumbling like dry leaves when money was dangled before them. Eliana, with her quiet strength and hopeful smile, had seemed different. But here she was, drenched and trembling, proving Rafael¡¯s cynical worldview correct. James¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, disappointment flickering in his chest.


    "Sir," James said, clearing his voice, turning towards Rafael. The man sat in his motorized wheelchair, wearing a wless ck suit that made his broad shoulders look even more imposing. He didn¡¯t move, just looked towards Eliana¡¯s direction with those cold steel-grey eyes, a small smirk curling his lips.


    "If you don¡¯t need me anymore tonight, I¡¯ll head out," James said quietly.


    Rafael¡¯s head tilted slightly, his steel-grey eyes¡ªglinting with a cold amusement. "Go, James," he said, his voice smooth andmanding, like velvet draped over a de. "Miss Bet and I have... matters to discuss."


    James gave a curt nod, sparing Eliana onest nce before striding out of the room, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him. The sound echoed like a gavel, sealing Eliana¡¯s fate in the lion¡¯s den.


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched as she took a tentative step forward, her shoes squelching softly. "Mr. Vexley," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I... I know I left, but¡ª"


    Rafael raised a hand, cutting her off. His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. "Spare me the apologies, Miss Bet. To be honest with you, I don¡¯t need your services anymore. I¡¯ve found another caregiver. Someone less... prone to running away." His tone was icy, each word a deliberate jab. "You should leave. The rain won¡¯t wait."


    Eliana¡¯s heart plummeted, her knees trembling as if the floor had shifted beneath her. She couldn¡¯t leave¡ªnot now, not when her father¡¯s life hung by a thread, tethered to machines she couldn¡¯t afford. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she sank to her knees, the cold marble biting into her skin through her soaked dress. "Please, Mr. Vexley," she pleaded, her voice cracking with raw desperation. "I¡¯m on my knees. I¡¯ll do anything. Anything you ask. Just help me save my father. He¡¯s all I have."


    Rafael¡¯s smile widened, a predator savoring the scent of surrender. He leaned forward slightly, his wheelchair humming softly as he adjusted his position. "Anything?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, like a storm gathering on the horizon. "Are you sure, Miss Bet?"


    She nodded, sending tiny droplets of water falling from her curls onto the floor. Then she caught herself, remembering with a pang that he couldn¡¯t see her nod. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thin and shaky, but there was a steel edge beneath it. "I¡¯m sure," she added, her words trembling but firm.


    A faint smile ghosted across his lips as his unseeing eyes narrowed, a glimmer of curiosity and dark amusement flickering behind that pale cloudiness. "Come closer," he murmured, his voice low and velvety, each syble curling around her like smoke. He extended a hand in her direction, his long fingers spread with quiet confidence, the simple gesture carrying a silentmand she couldn¡¯t refuse.


    Eliana rose unsteadily, her legs trembling beneath her as if they might give out at any second. Each step toward him felt heavier than thest, her soaked dress clinging coldly to her skin. When she reached him, she ced her shaking hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, firm and unyielding, pulling her closer until she stood just inches away from him. His touch was warm, almost shockingly so, cutting through the chill that gnawed at her bones.


    "Prove it," Rafael murmured, his voice dropping into a low, husky whisper that sent shivers racing down her spine for reasons she couldn¡¯t name. His eyes, though blind, seemed to pierce straight through her. "Strip. Right here. Right now."


    His words hit her like a p across the face, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Tears sprang to her eyes, hot and fast, blurring his sharp features. Not letting herself think, her hand trembled slowly as she reached for the small zipper at her side, her fingertips brushing against the cold metal. Everything inside her screamed to run, to scream, to hold onto thest fragile piece of dignity she had left.


    But her father¡¯s face shed in her mind ¨C weary, lined with pain, his breaths ragged and weak. The memory sliced through her resolve like a hot knife. With a bitter swallow, she tugged the zipper down. The sound of it unfastening ¨C that quiet, rasping whisper of fabric parting ¨C felt louder than the storm raging outside.


    But just as she tried to push on, her vision wavered, and exhaustion mmed into her like iron shackles locking her in ce. The room swayed, the golden chandeliers overhead fracturing into swirling shards of light. Her knees buckled under her weight, and before she could stop herself, darkness swept in. She copsed forward, her body folding into Rafael¡¯s arms. Thest thing she felt was his solid warm chest against her cheek, so steady and strongpared to the ice sinking deep into her bones.


    Rafael¡¯s breath hitched as Eliana¡¯s small body suddenly went limp, copsing softly against him. For a moment, he froze. The mask of calm calction he always wore slipped away, revealing a flicker of panic as he stared down at her tear-streaked, pale face. She looked so delicate in that instant, like a porcin doll someone had carelessly dropped.


    With careful hands, he adjusted her, shifting her weight so shey cradled across hisp, her head lolling gently against his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her cheek against his neck, her breathing shallow and uneven. The quiet hum of his wheelchair broke the silence as he turned and began rolling out of the study, the smooth wheels gliding soundlessly over the polished marble floors.


    He was halfway down the corridor when a familiar, sharp voice sliced through the stillness. "Oh hi, son. What do we have here?"


    Rafael¡¯s gaze flicked up to see Mirabel Vexley, his stepmother, standing at the end of the hall. She looked effortlessly regal, draped in a flowing emerald silk gown that shimmered under the chandelier¡¯s light. Pearls gleamed around her graceful neck, their cool sheen matching the glint in her honey-brown eyes. Her smooth brown skin seemed to glow in the golden light, but her smile held no warmth. Instead, her lips curled into a smirk as her gaze travelled over the unconscious woman in Rafael¡¯s arms, amusement and something darker flickering in her eyes.


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, his hatred for Mirabel simmering like a coiled snake. He knew her for what she was¡ªa gold-digger who¡¯d wed her way into his father¡¯s bed, her heart as cold as the diamonds she wore. His father, Vexley Sr., was too enamored to see her for the viper she was, but Rafael wasn¡¯t so blind. Still, he never acted rashly. His words were always refined,yered with double meanings that cut deeper than any shout.


    "Mirabel," he said, his voice smooth as polished steel, "I suggest you attend to your own affairs. This doesn¡¯t concern you." His tone was polite, almost deferential, but the underlyingmand was clear: <i>Fuck off.</i>


    Mirabel¡¯s smirk faltered, but she recovered quickly, tossing her head. "Touchy, darling. I was only curious about your... guest." Her eyes lingered on Eliana, sharp and calcting.


    Rafael pressed the remote on his wheelchair, the motor whirring as he moved past her without another word, leaving her standing in the corridor, her smirk fading into a scowl. He didn¡¯t look back as he guided the chair into his private suite, the heavy door closing with a soft thud.


    Inside, the room was a sanctuary of dark wood and deep blues. The massive king-sized bed sat beneath a sculpted ceiling, its silk sheets pooling like liquid silver in the dim light. Rafael pressed the small brass service bell resting on his side table, the sound sharp and delicate in the quiet room.


    Within moments, the door creaked open, and ra stepped in. She was young, her uniform crisp, her brown hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck. "Sir?" she asked softly, but her gaze shifted immediately to Eliana, and her expression melted into quiet worry.


    "Help her out of those wet clothes," Rafael said, his voice losing its usual edge, bing almost tender. "Find one of my dress shirts for her. Somethingfortable. Be quick."


    ra nodded without hesitation and hurried to his side. Rafael slipped his arms beneath Eliana and lifted her effortlessly onto the bed, careful not to jostle her. As ra began her task, he turned his wheelchair and rolled himself out, leaving the maid to work in private.


    Minutester, ra¡¯s gentle call reached him. He returned to the room to find Eliana lying against the pillows, her damp curls fanned out like dark ink across the white pillowcase. She wore one of his crisp white dress shirts, the fabric drowning her slender frame, the sleeves slipping past her small hands. The shirt clung softly to her curves, and Rafael felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight.


    He flicked his gaze to ra¡¯s direction and gave her a silent nod of dismissal. She slipped out, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Alone now, Rafael wheeled himself closer to the bed. Reaching up, he slowly removed the tinted contact lenses that kept the world convinced he was blind. As they slipped free, his true eyes were revealed¡ªpiercing steel-grey, clear and cutting through the dim light with a cold, unflinching brilliance. He blinked, adjusting to the rity, and leaned forward, letting his eyes trace the lines of Eliana¡¯s sleeping form.


    She looked so impossibly small lying there, so fragile and vulnerable in his shirt. Yet there was something undeniably captivating about her¡ªher parted lips, the faint rise and fall of her chest, the quiet strength beneath her softness. For a moment, his carefully guarded expression eased, a fleeting smile softening his harsh features.


    He reached out, brushing his fingers gently over a damp curl stuck to her forehead, pushing it away with a tenderness he rarely showed. His voice dropped to a whisper, low and almost broken as he spoke words meant only for her sleeping ears. "You will regreting back to me, Eliana," he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek. "But I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll ever let you go now."


    Outside, the storm continued its relentless rage, thunder rolling over the city like an angry god¡¯s drum. But inside that quiet room, something shifted¡ªsomething small and fragile but real. A thin, silken thread of connection began weaving itself between the ruthless billionaire who trusted no one and the woman who, whether she knew it or not, had just given him everything.

 Chapter 21: The Billionaire’s Game

    <h4>Chapter 21: The Billionaire¡¯s Game</h4>


    The storm outside raged on,shing heavy sheets of rain against the tall ss windows of Rafael Vexley¡¯s suite. Thunder rolled like an angry god¡¯s drum, shaking the silent shadows of his bedroom.


    Rafael sat silently in his wheelchair, the quiet hum of the night amplifying every breath he drew. His steel-grey eyes, now uncovered and sharp without those deceiving tinted lenses, locked onto Eliana like a predator studying its prey. Azy, dangerous smirk curved his lips as he watched her sleep.


    She looked so heartbreakingly fragile lying there, utterly unaware of the world¡ªor of him. Her lips were parted just enough to make his chest tighten. Her longshes fluttered ever so slightly, catching stray beams of moonlight sneaking past the ckout curtains. Each gentle rise and fall of her chest seemed to echo in his mind, whispering secrets only he was allowed to hear.


    His fingers twitched against the leather armrest, aching to reach out and brush her wild curls away from her face. They spilled across his silk pillows like dark ink against snow, a stark contrast that made his throat tighten. She looked almost childlike, swallowed up by his oversized shirt, its sleeves drowning her delicate wrists.


    The sight stirred something deep in him¡ªa dark blend of possession and curiosity, wrapped around a thin thread of something warmer, softer... something he forced himself to crush before it could grow roots.


    Another smirk pulled at his lips as he tilted his head, eyes never leaving her peaceful face.


    Such innocence, he thought, leaning back with a silent chuckle. So sweet. So utterly misced in a world like his.


    He reached for his phone on the nightstand and dialled a number with practiced ease. After two rings, a groggy male voice answered, "Sir... it¡¯s almost midnight. Is everything alright?"


    "James," Rafael said smoothly, his voice dark honey edged with ice. "First thing tomorrow morning, go to Central Mercy Hospital. Find out everything about Frank Bet¡¯s condition. If he needs a transfer to a better facility, do it immediately. If not, settle all his medical bills and arrange anything else he needs to survive."


    There was a pause on the other end, a faint rustle as if James had sat up straighter. When he spoke, his voice carried a note of disbelief, almost shock. "Sir, you¡¯re... you¡¯re serious? You want to pay for her father¡¯s care? All of it? Out of your pocket?"


    Rafael¡¯s smirk widened as he let his gaze roam over Eliana¡¯s sleeping form. She shifted slightly, curling deeper into the plush pillows. "Yes," he replied coolly, leaning back in his chair. "Is that a problem, James?"


    "N-no, sir, of course not. I just..." James hesitated, his confusion bleeding through the line. "Forgive me, but... you¡¯ve never... spent money unless there¡¯s gain. Even the charities you sponsor benefit yourpanies¡¯ PR and tax reductions. I understand why you¡¯d dig into Miss Bet¡¯s background¡ªyou don¡¯t trust anyone without knowing what cards they¡¯re holding. That¡¯s just you. But... helping her father? I just... I need to be sure this is really what you want me to do."


    Rafael let out a low chuckle, deep and dark, sending a shiver down James¡¯s spine even through the call. "Think of it as an investment, James. "A very... promising one. Just wait and see. This will yield results you couldn¡¯t imagine." His voice dropped,ced with a dangerous amusement. "Do as I say. I¡¯ll expect a full report by noon."


    "Investment...?" James echoed, his voice small. "Understood, sir. I¡¯ll handle it first thing tomorrow."


    "Good." Rafael ended the call without another word, cing the phone back on the table with a soft clink.


    For a long moment, Rafael just watched her. The storm outside raged on, rain mming against the windows like an uninvited guest demanding entry, thunder grumbling low in the distance. But inside, everything was silent¡ªexcept for the wicked thoughts swirling through his mind.


    His smirk deepened as he studied Eliana¡¯s sleeping face. So peaceful. So unaware.


    Then, in one smooth, almost catlike motion, he ced his hands firmly on the arms of his wheelchair and pushed himself up. Effortless. Graceful. Powerful. The lie of his paralysis fell away like a forgotten cloak as he rose to his full height, muscles tightening beneath his skin. The wheelchair sat there, empty and abandoned, like a useless stage prop after the final act.


    He flexed his arms, rolling his broad shoulders back until they cracked lightly, loosening the tension that came from sitting still for too long. The shadows danced across his sculpted chest and abdomen as he unbuttoned his ck silk shirt with practiced ease, each button sliding open under his deft fingers. The fabric whispered as it slipped off his body and pooled on the floor at his feet.


    Without hesitation, he hooked his thumbs into his tailored cks and slid them down, along with his briefs, until he stood naked under the soft golden glow of the bedsidemp. The light caressed every hard line and carved ne of his body, making him look almost otherworldly.


    He moved to the bed and pulled back the silvery sheets with slow deliberation. As he slipped beneath them, a brief shiver ran over his skin before the warmth of the bedding wrapped around him. Rolling onto his side, he reached out and slid an arm around Eliana¡¯s small waist, pulling her gently against his chest.


    She murmured something soft and incoherent in her sleep but didn¡¯t wake. Her warmth seeped into him,forting in a way that irritated and soothed him all at once. Her quiet breath fanned across his chest, feather-light and calming.


    Rafael closed his eyes for a moment, breathing her in.


    This... this was exactly where he wanted her.


    A smug smile curled across his lips. He pressed his nose lightly to her hair, breathing in the faint scent of coconut and baby oil. "Soon... you will regreting back to me, Eliana," he thought, eyes slipping shut as he drifted into sleep, "but it will be toote."


    *********


    Soft golden ray of dawn crept through the massive windows, filling the room with warmth and forming delicate patterns on the navy walls. The rain had eased to a whisper, leaving only the rhythmic dripping of water from the balcony rails.


    Eliana stirred with a soft moan, blinking blearily against the pale light. Warmth enveloped her, a solid heat pressed against her back. She inhaled deeply, the scent of expensive cologne and clean masculine skin filling her nose.


    Her eyes flew open, wide and frantic.


    For a split second, her brain refused to register what she was seeing. Then it hit her¡ªhard. Her heart mmed against her ribs, her pulse thundering in her ears as her surroundings sharpened into terrifying rity.


    She was lying half draped across Rafael Vexley¡¯s bare chest, his strong arm wrapped possessively around her waist, holding her firmly against him. The silk sheets were tangled around her thighs, cool against her skin, exposing her slender legs to the dim morning light.


    Her breath hitched when she nced down at herself. Her clothes were gone. In their ce was a crisp white dress shirt¡ªhis shirt¡ªits starched cor brushing delicately against her corbone. The sleevespletely swallowed her arms, hanging past her fingertips, and the hem barely reached the tops of her thighs.


    She forced herself to look at Rafael, a knot of dread tightening in her chest. His chest rose and fell steadily, the shadows entuating every defined line of his torso. With trembling fingers, she lifted the edge of the sheets, her breath catching in her throat as the silky fabric slid away inch by inch. Her eyes widened, heat rushing to her face when she saw himpletely naked beneath the covers.


    Oh... oh my god!


    Panic roared to life inside her, wing up her throat as her mind scrambled for answers. shes from the night before darted through her memory in chaotic fragments: the violent storm outside... his cold, elegant office... his dark, degrading request... the fleeting warmth of his chest that made her head spin... and then¡ªnothing but ckness.


    Her chest constricted painfully as a single horrifying thought screamed through her mind:


    <strong><i>I slept with Rafael Vexley!</i></strong>


    She swallowed a scream, her breathing out in ragged, terrified gasps. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, her pulse thundering in her ears. No, no, no...Eliana, no!


    Unbeknownst to her, Rafael was already awake. He had woken an hour earlier, silently slipping his tinted contact lenses back onto his eyes, once again portraying the helpless blind man the world knew him to be. Now, hey there pretending to sleep, his steel-grey gaze hidden behind the false cloudiness of his lenses.


    His lips twitched as he watched her internal panic. It was... amusing. Endearing, even. The little mouse, so caught in her own fears, unable to see the strings pulling her world apart.


    Finally, he decided to put on his performance.


    With a low, sleepy groan, he tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest. Eliana let out a sharp squeak as her hands syed against his warm skin. Rafael dipped his head slightly, pressing his lips against her temple in a tender kiss.


    "Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with feigned sleep.


    For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then¡ª


    "AHHHHHHH!"


    Eliana screamed, her voice echoing like a siren through the massive room. She shoved at his chest with both hands, scrambling backwards with wide eyes filled with pure horror and embarrassment. The silk sheets tangled around her legs as she stumbled off the bed, nearly falling face-first onto the marble floor.


    Rafael watched her with an impassive expression, though inside, darkughter rumbled through him. She looked like a terrified kitten, her curls a wild halo around her flushed face, her eyes huge with disbelief and shame.


    "Mr... R-Rafael... I... we... oh god..." she stammered, her voice breaking as her eyes darted around the room, searching for her clothes. "Did we... did we really...?"


    Rafael yawned theatrically, stretching his arms above his head, the movement pulling his sculpted torso taut and powerful. He blinked slowly, pretending to ¡¯find¡¯ her with his blind gaze. "Eliana?" he murmured, feigning confusion. "What¡¯s wrong...? Did I scare you?"


    Her mouth fell open in shock, tears welling in her eyes. "I... I... I¡¯m so sorry... I shouldn¡¯t have... I was desperate... oh god... this is so wrong..."


    "Shh." He reached out a hand in her direction, tilting his head slightly with a gentle frown, ying his part perfectly. "Come back to bed, Eliana. You¡¯re stuttering."


    She stared at him, her lip trembling. "I... I can¡¯t... I... I have to go..."


    Rafael let out a small sigh, dropping his hand back to the bed. Behind the feigned concern in his clouded eyes, his mind churned with cold satisfaction. Everything was falling into ce. Soon, she would have nowhere to run.


    "Whatever you wish," he said softly, his voiceced with deceptive warmth. "But... don¡¯t forget... you¡¯re mine now, Eliana."


    His words echoed in the silent room, wrapping around her like invisible chains. She clutched the front of the oversized shirt tighter around her chest, her tears spilling freely down her cheeks as her heart shattered with the realization that her life had descended into pure chaos.


    She bolted from his room, bare feet pping against the cold marble floor as she sprinted down the corridor, humiliation burning hot and fierce in her chest.


    Inside, in that dim, luxurious room, Rafael Vexley watched his little pawn with a victorious smirk hidden beneath a mask of gentle confusion, as the game continued¡ªeach move drawing her deeper into his world... and into his chains.

 Chapter 22: Dumbfounded

    <h4>Chapter 22: Dumbfounded</h4>


    Eliana Bet burst out of Rafael Vexley¡¯svish bedroom, her bare feet pping against the icy floors of his sprawling mansion. The shock of cold travelled up her legs, jolting her awake in a way nothing else could. She clutched desperately at the oversized white shirt hanging off her shoulders¡ªhis shirt. It barely covered her thighs, the crisp fabric sticking to her skin, damp with sweat and lingering fear.


    Her hair was a wild mess of curls, tumbling around her face like a storm she couldn¡¯t tame, each strand a reminder of how utterly out of ce she was in this pce of perfection. The pristine hallway, lined with towering windows that weed the shy morning sun, only made her feel smaller. She prayed under her breath that everyone in the house was still asleep. The idea of being seen like this¡ªhair tangled, eyes swollen with unshed tears, drowning in the scent of him¡ªmade her stomach twist with humiliation.


    Her wide, panicked eyes flicked down the endless corridor, heart hammering against her ribs with every step. Each beat was a cruel reminder of what she¡¯d done. Or what had been done to her. <i>I slept with him. Oh God... I actually slept with him.</i> The words looped endlessly in her mind, scraping against her sanity like shards of ss.


    She hadn¡¯t meant for any of this to happen. Sure, she¡¯de here ready to sell herself to him¡ªbecause what other choice did she have? Her father was dying, and Rafael Vexley was her only lifeline. But this? Waking up next to him, half-naked, her body aching in ces she couldn¡¯tprehend, his arm heavy across her waist as if he owned her... This wasn¡¯t part of her n. Especially when she hadn¡¯t even been conscious for it. A shiver tore through her at the memory of his lips brushing her temple, tender and possessive in a way that felt like a sick joke.


    She quickened her pace, feeling like a thief sneaking out with stolen dignity. The mansion felt like a maze designed to keep her trapped, with its crystal chandeliers overhead, it¡¯s gleaming floors, and ornate gold frames housing portraits of powerful, untouchable people who seemed to watch her with silent judgement.


    Her breath came out in ragged bursts as she rounded a corner, searching desperately for the exit. <i>Please... just let me leave before anyone sees me like this. </i>But as always, fate had its own twisted sense of humour.


    "Oh my God. What do we have here?"


    A voice sharp and dripping with mockery cut through the silent hallway. Eliana froze mid-step, her blood turning to ice. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and felt her heart sink.


    At the end of the corridor stood a girl who looked like she¡¯d stepped straight out of a glossy magazine cover. She couldn¡¯t have been older than eighteen, with sleek blonde hair pulled into a painfully tight high ponytail that shimmered under the chandelier light. Her face was pretty in that harsh, intimidating way, her features sharpened by perfectly done makeup that screamed money and time to spare. She wore a matching designer athleisure set that hugged her slim frame, the brand logos practically shouting her status to the world.


    Celina Vexley.


    Those piercing blue eyes swept over Eliana, raking her from head to toe. Taking in the oversized shirt that drowned her small frame. The bare legs peeking out beneath its hem. The flushed, tear-stained cheeks.


    "Who are you?" Celina demanded, crossing her arms, her manicured nails tapping against her elbow. "And how the hell did you get into my house?"


    Eliana¡¯s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her throat was tight, her mind a whirlwind of shame. "I¡ªI¡¯m¡ª" she stammered, clutching the shirt tighter, as if it could shield her from the piercing gaze.


    Celina¡¯s eyes narrowed, and she snapped her fingers. "Maids! Get over here!" Her voice echoed through the hall, and within moments, five women in crisp ck uniforms appeared, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Celina pointed at Eliana, her tone icy. "Who is this? And why is she prancing around my house looking like that?"


    One of the maids, an older woman with kind eyes, hesitated before stepping forward. "Miss Celina, that¡¯s... that¡¯s Eliana. She¡¯s Mr. Rafael¡¯s new caregiver."


    Celina¡¯s perfectly arched brows shot up, and then sheughed¡ªa loud, cruel sound that bounced off the marble walls. "Caregiver? <i>Caregiver?" </i>She doubled over, clutching her stomach as if the idea were the funniest thing she¡¯d ever heard. The maids shifted ufortably, their eyes darting between Celina and Eliana. "Oh, this is rich! You¡¯re telling me this... this stray is supposed to be taking care of my brother? Look at her! She looks like she just rolled out of his bed!"


    Eliana¡¯s face burned, her hands trembling as she took a step back. "I¡ªI didn¡¯t¡ª" she started, but Celina cut her off, herughter turning sharp and vicious.


    "Oh, please! Don¡¯t even try to deny it. You¡¯re wearing his shirt, for God¡¯s sake!" Celina¡¯s eyes gleamed with malice as she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "What, did you think you¡¯d seduce a blind, crippled man and get a piece of the Vexley fortune? Newssh, sweetheart¡ªmy brother can¡¯t even see you, and he sure as hell can¡¯t... you know." She wiggled her fingers suggestively, her lips twisting into a sneer. "I didn¡¯t even know he could perform in that department, considering he¡¯s, what, paralyzed from the waist down? And blind as a bat!"


    The maids gasped, one stifling a giggle behind her hand. Eliana¡¯s heart plummeted, the realization hitting her like a p. This is Rafael¡¯s sister. The cruelty in Celina¡¯s voice, the way she spoke of Rafael with such disdain¡ªthey could have pass off as the cruel twins. Tears stung Eliana¡¯s eyes, hot and unstoppable, as she stood there, exposed and humiliated.


    "I¡ªI need to go," Eliana whispered, her voice breaking. She turned and bolted, her bare feet pounding against the floor as Celina¡¯sughter chased her down the hall.


    "Wait!" a softer voice called after her. Eliana didn¡¯t stop, but the sound of footsteps followed. ra, the younger maid, caught up to her, her face flushed with concern. "Miss Eliana, please,e with me."


    Eliana shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t stay here..."


    "Just for a moment," ra pleaded, gently touching her arm. "Let me help you."


    Reluctantly, Eliana followed ra to the maids¡¯ quarters, a small, utilitarian space tucked away from the grandeur of the main house. ra rummaged through a locker and pulled out a simple blue dress and a pair of ts. "Here," she said softly, handing them to Eliana. "These are mine. They¡¯ll fit you."


    Eliana¡¯s lip trembled as she took the clothes, her voice only a whisper. "Thank you, ra. You... you don¡¯t know what this means."


    ra offered a small, sad smile. "You don¡¯t deserve what Miss Celina said. She¡¯s... she¡¯s not kind. But you¡¯re not alone, okay?"


    Eliana nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She changed quickly, the modest dress a stark contrast to the oversized shirt that had marked her shame. As she slipped on the ts, ra pressed a recharged bus card into her hand. "Get home safe," she murmured.


    Eliana clutched the card, her eyes welling up again. "I¡¯m nevering back here," she vowed, her voice fierce despite the tears. "Never."


    She fled the estate, her heart pounding as she navigated the winding driveway and out the iron gates. The early morning air was cool against her tear-streaked face, but it did little to soothe the fire of humiliation burning in her chest. She walked to the nearest bus stop, her steps heavy, her mind reying Celina¡¯s cruel words, Rafael¡¯s deceptive warmth, the weight of her own desperation.


    <i>I sold myself. For nothing.</i>


    The bus ride was a blur. Eliana sat at the back, her face pressed against the window, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. The other passengers, absorbed in their own worlds, paid her no mind, but she felt exposed, as if they could see every crack in her heart. She couldn¡¯t believe she¡¯d gone to Rafael Vexley¡¯s estate, thinking she could barter her dignity for her father¡¯s treatment, only to be humiliated beyond measure.


    When she finally reached her small, rundown apartment, Eliana copsed onto the worn couch, her sobs wracking her slender frame. The tiny space smelled of her father¡¯s aftershave and the faint mildew of poverty, but it was home¡ªa sanctuary from the nightmare she¡¯d just endured. She couldn¡¯t face her father, not yet, not with the shame clinging to her like a second skin.


    The bath was her salvation. She stood under the lukewarm spray, scrubbing her skin until it was raw, as if she could wash away the memory of Rafael¡¯s touch, Celina¡¯sughter, her own naivety. I¡¯m done with him, she thought fiercely. I¡¯ll never see Rafael Vexley again. I¡¯d rather sell my organs at the ck market for money than take his humiliation ever again.


    She was just pulling on a clean pair of jeans, her hair still damp, when her phone rang, shattering the fragile silence. The screen disyed the hospital¡¯s number, and her heart lurched. "Hello?" she answered, her voice hoarse.


    "Miss Bet, this is Dr. Patel¡¯s office," a calm voice said. "Your father¡¯s treatment has started immediately. We need you toe byter to sign some documents."


    Eliana frowned, her hand tightening around the phone. "But... I haven¡¯t paid the deposit yet. Dr. Patel said no treatment would start until¡ª"


    "The funds have been covered," the voice interrupted gently. "Mr. Rafael Vexley paid for everything."


    Eliana¡¯s legs buckled, and she sank to the floor, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp. "W-what?" she whispered, her voice trembling.


    "Pleasee byter today," the voice continued. "We¡¯ll need those signatures." The call ended, leaving Eliana staring at the phone, her mind reeling. Rafael paid? Why?


    Before she could process the shock, her phone rang again, this time from an unknown number. Numbly, she answered. "Hello?"


    "Miss Bet," a crisp male voice cut through the line, each syble clipped with practiced professionalism. "This is James Evans, Mr. Vexley¡¯s assistant. I¡¯m calling to inform you that Mr. Vexley expects you at work tomorrow, bright and early."


    There was a brief pause, just long enough for his words to sink in like cold water down her spine, before his tone sharpened with quiet warning.


    "He doesn¡¯t give third chances, Miss Bet. I suggest you don¡¯t make the same mistake twice."


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, but no words came out. Her voice was trapped somewhere deep in her chest, buried under the shock crashing over her like a violent wave. Her heart thundered so hard it hurt. She sat there on the cold floor, staring nkly ahead, her mind spinning while her body felt impossibly heavy¡ªlike she¡¯d forgotten how to move, how to breathe, how to exist at all.


    <i>What the hell just happened? </i>

 Chapter 23: Just Fun

    <h4>Chapter 23: Just Fun</h4>


    The hospital¡¯s sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic engulfed Eliana Bet the moment she rushed through the sliding ss doors. Her chest tightened as her heart hammered wildly, each beat echoing in her ears. Just hours ago, she¡¯d been drowning in worry, trying to figure out how to keep her father¡¯s treatment going when every penny had already been stretched beyond its limit.


    Then the calls came¡ªfirst from the hospital, then from Rafael Vexley¡¯s secretary. Each word had felt like lightning striking her still heart. Her father¡¯s bills... paid. All of them. Cleared without a trace. By him.


    Rafael Vexley.


    The very man she¡¯d woken up beside not too long ago, her mind foggy with regret and humiliation, convinced she¡¯d given away a part of herself she could never get back. She could still feel the icy disbelief this morning, the crushing guilt as she fled his estate.


    Now, her worn-out sneakers squeaked against the hospital¡¯s glossy floors as she weaved past bustling nurses and worried families. Her thoughts were tangled in a storm of relief, confusion, and something dangerously close to hope. Why would a man like Rafael¡ªa man who moved through the world like nothing could touch him¡ªdo something so kind? So... impossibly generous?


    Or was this his way of putting a price tag on her dignity? Of making sure she knew exactly who held her fate in their hands?


    Eliana swallowed hard, her chest burning with the question she wasn¡¯t sure she wanted answered.


    Eliana reached the hospital¡¯s billing office, her breath catching as the clerk handed her a stack of documents. The numbers blurred before her honey-brown eyes¡ªzeros erased, debts dissolved. She signed the forms permitting her father¡¯s treatment, her trembling fingers betraying the dreamlike haze that enveloped her. It felt like she was floating, like the world had tilted into a fairy tale where hope wasn¡¯t just a flicker but a zing light. She clutched the papers to her chest, her curly ck hair spilling over her shoulders as she whispered to herself, "This can¡¯t be real."


    Frank Bet, had been moved to the VIP ward by the time she reached him. The room was a stark contrast to the cramped, dim space he¡¯d upied before. Sunlight streamed through wide windows, spreading it¡¯s warm glow over crisp white linens and a tray of steaming food¡ªroast chicken, mashed potatoes, and vibrant green beans, a far cry from the watery soup he¡¯d been served for the past days. Frank, frail and weathered, his dark eyes gentle despite the pain etched into his face, looked up from his bed. His balding head gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and his voice, weak but warm, broke the silence.


    "Eliana, sweetheart," he rasped, his gaze flickering to the luxurious room, "how in God¡¯s name did you manage this? The bills, this room... it¡¯s too much. Tell me, how¡¯d you pay for it?"


    Eliana froze, her heart lurching. She couldn¡¯t tell him the truth¡ªor what she thought was the truth. That she¡¯d woken up in Rafael Vexley¡¯s bed, her body tangled in his sheets, believing she¡¯d traded her dignity for his money. The shame burned her cheeks, but she forced a smile, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.


    "Papa, don¡¯t you worry about it," she said, sitting beside him and taking his thin hand. "I... I got another job. A good one. They gave me an advance, and I used it to cover everything. The hospital worked with me on a payment n, too. It¡¯s all taken care of."


    Frank¡¯s eyes narrowed, searching her face. "A job? What kind of job pays this much upfront, Eliana? You¡¯re not doing something dangerous, are you?"


    Sheughed, the sound brittle but convincing. "No, Papa, nothing like that. It¡¯s another caregiving job for a nice wealthy family. They¡¯re... generous. I just got lucky, that¡¯s all." She squeezed his hand, her smile softening. "You just focus on getting better, okay? Let me handle the rest."


    Frank studied her for a long moment, his expression a mix of pride and worry. Finally, he nodded, his voice bing a whisper. "You¡¯re too good to me, Eliana. Always have been."


    The words pierced her, and she blinked back tears as she spent the day by his side, watching nurses run tests and doctors murmur reassurances. Frank¡¯s strength was returning, bit by bit, and the sight of him eating a proper meal filled her with a fragile hope. But beneath it all, a fire burned in her chest. Rafael Vexley. She¡¯d march to his mansion tomorrow and set things straight. She wasn¡¯t his pawn, and she wouldn¡¯t be his ything. Every penny he¡¯d spent on her father, she¡¯d repay¡ªwithout selling her soul again.


    Meanwhile, across town in the sleek, ss-walled office of Vexley Enterprises, Rafael Vexley reclined in his leather chair, his steel-grey eyes glinting with amusement. The CCTV footage yed on the massive screen before him, capturing Eliana¡¯s hurried exit from his bedroom the previous morning. She¡¯d been wearing nothing but his oversized white shirt, her long legs bare, her face a mask of mortification as she clutched the fabric around her. Rafael¡¯s lips twitched into a grin, and a low chuckle escaped him.


    James stood nearby, his brow furrowed as he nced at the screen. "What¡¯s so funny, sir?" he asked, adjusting his sses. "She looks like she¡¯s running from a ghost."


    Rafael leaned forward, pausing the footage on Eliana¡¯s wide-eyed expression. "Oh, James, it¡¯s priceless. Look at her¡ªscrambling out of my room like she¡¯smitted a crime. The girl¡¯s got no idea I didn¡¯t touch her." Heughed again, the sound sharp and edged with mischief. "She thinks she slept with me. And I¡¯m letting her believe it."


    James raised an eyebrow, his tone cautious. "You¡¯re ying a dangerous game, sir. Why toy with her like this?"


    Rafael¡¯s grin faded, but his eyes sparkled with something darker. "Because it¡¯s <i>fun, </i>James. I haven¡¯t had this much entertainment in years. She¡¯s so... earnest. So easy to rattle." He rewound the footage, watching Eliana stumble into the hallway, her curls bouncing wildly. "Look at that determination. She¡¯s probably cursing my name right now."


    The footage shifted to another camera, showing Eliana¡¯s encounter with Celina, Rafael¡¯s spoiled step-sister. Celina¡¯s venomous words echoed through the speakers¡ªinsults hurled at what Eliana was wearing and Rafael¡¯s ughable disability." Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, his amusement reced by a cold fury.


    "Cut Celina¡¯s allowance," he snapped, his voice like a whip. "Three months. Let her learn to keep that mouth of hers shut."


    James nodded, making a note. "Done, sir. Though I doubt it¡¯ll teach her much. She¡¯s as stubborn as theye."


    Rafael didn¡¯t respond, his attention back on the screen. The final clip showed Eliana at the gate, her voice trembling with resolve as she told ra, the housekeeper, "I¡¯ll never set foot in this house again. Never."


    Rafael threw his head back andughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. "Oh, she¡¯s adorable. Look at that face¡ªpure conviction. Like she¡¯s going to storm off and never look back." He leaned back, folding his arms. "She¡¯ll be back, James. Mark my words."


    James tilted his head, skeptical. "You sure about that, sir? She sounded pretty serious. And after what Celina said to her..."


    Rafael waved a hand dismissively. "She¡¯s tasted the money, James. Paid her father¡¯s bills, didn¡¯t I? She¡¯lle crawling back, just like the others. They all do. She¡¯ll probably try to seduce me next, thinking it¡¯ll keep the cash flowing."


    James frowned, his voice low. "If you think she¡¯s like the others, why <i>her</i>? Why choose her to... you know, bear your child?"


    Rafael¡¯sughter returned, sharp and mocking. "Oh, James, you¡¯re too serious. I¡¯m not serious about her. It¡¯s a game. I¡¯m proving a point¡ªto someone. A man who has so much faith in humanity. He needs to see and learn. Eliana¡¯s just a pawn. Weak-minded, naive, money hungry. Just like the rest of them." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. "I¡¯d never let someone like her carry my legacy. She¡¯s just... fun to mess with."


    James didn¡¯t respond, his expression unreadable as he turned back to his tablet. Rafael¡¯s gaze lingered on the frozen image of Eliana, her honey-brown eyes zing with defiance. For a moment, his smirk faltered, and a flicker of something¡ªcuriosity, perhaps¡ªcrossed his face. Why was he so fascinated by her? She was just another caregiver, another desperate soul chasing his wealth. And yet, watching her storm away, he felt a spark he hadn¡¯t known in years.


    "Tomorrow," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. "Let¡¯s see if you keep your word, Eliana Bet."


    *******


    Eliana sat by her father¡¯s bedside, the hospital room now quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors. Frank slept, his breathing steadier than it had been in months. She brushed a curl from her face, her mind racing. Tomorrow, she¡¯d face Rafael Vexley. She¡¯d tell him she wasn¡¯t his toy, that she¡¯d repay every cent, and that she¡¯d never let him touch her again. Her heart ached with the weight of her mistake, but her resolve was irond. She was Eliana Bet, and she¡¯d fight for her lost dignity, no matter the cost.

 Chapter 24: The Truth Can Be Changed

    <h4>Chapter 24: The Truth Can Be Changed</h4>


    The morning sun streamed through the massive windows of Rafael Vexley¡¯s dining room, flooding the space with soft golden light. It danced across the long mahogany table and made the crystal chandeliers overhead sparkle like captured stars. The room smelled of freshly brewed coffee, warm buttery croissants, and sharp citrus from the bowl of perfectly arranged oranges in the centre. Every inch of the space screamed wealth and power.


    At the head of the table sat Rafael in his sleek wheelchair, wearing a navy suit that hugged his broad shoulders like it was made just for him ¨C because it was. His dark wavy hair caught the morning light, and though everyone believed he couldn¡¯t see, his steel-grey eyes watched everything with a quiet, dangerous amusement. Around him, staff moved like silent shadows: ra pouring coffee with steady hands, a young maid adjusting the silverware just right, and James standing by the doorway with his tablet, ready for orders.


    Outside, Eliana Bet¡¯s heart thudded as the mansion gates nged shut behind her. She walked up the stone driveway, the breeze tugging at her simple blue dress. Her sandals pped lightly against the path, each step feeling heavier than thest. All this wealth surrounded her, almost sneering at her presence, but she kept her head high. She wasn¡¯t here to beg. She was here to thank Rafael Vexley for paying her father¡¯s hospital bills ¨C and to tell him she would pay him back, every single cent.


    Before she could knock, the grand double doors swung open to reveal ra. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.


    "Miss Bet... I didn¡¯t think I¡¯ll see you again," ra said with a soft smile on her face.


    "I won¡¯t be long," Eliana replied softly, smoothing her dress with trembling fingers. "I just need to speak with Mr Vexley."


    ra hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside. "He¡¯s in the dining room."


    Eliana¡¯s sandals echoed through the marble foyer as she walked in.


    There he was ¨C Rafael Vexley. Immacte as always in his white shirt slightly unbuttoned at the cor. His hair looked effortlessly styled, and his steel-grey eyes locked onto hers the moment she entered. A small smirk curled his lips as he leaned back in his chair, looking like he owned the world.


    "Eliana Bet," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. "So you decided to show up."


    She stood straight, her chin lifted despite the tremor in her knees. Her sandals made faint scuffs on the marble floor. Her dress clung to her in a way that was modest but still couldn¡¯t hide her quiet beauty. Her curly ck hair was tied into a loose bun, with a few strands falling across her heart-shaped face. Those honey-brown eyes of hers burned with gratitude, defiance, and fear all at once. Her full lips trembled slightly as she opened her mouth to speak.


    She¡¯de here to thank him, to let him know she wasn¡¯t someone who could be bought. But under the weight of his cold, amused gaze, her resolve faltered for just a second. She felt like a small bird caught under the gaze of a hawk ¨C fragile, trembling, but still determined not to break.


    "Mr. Vexley," Eliana began, her voice steady despite the knot in her chest. She sped her hands tightly, her knuckles paling. "I came to thank you for covering my father¡¯s hospital bills. It means more than I can say. But I need you to understand something." She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto his. "I¡¯m going to pay back every single penny. I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take, but I will. And I¡¯m noting back to work for you. I won¡¯t let you keep trampling on my dignity."


    A ripple of silence swept through the room. A maid froze mid-step, a silver tray wobbling in her hands. ra¡¯s coffee pot hovered over a cup, her eyes darting between Eliana and Rafael. James adjusted his sses, his expression controlled. Rafael, however, leaned back in his wheelchair, his lips curling into a slow, sardonic smile. He tilted his head, as if studying a particrly amusing puzzle.


    "Dignity?" he drawled, his voice smooth as butter but sharp as a de. He set down his coffee cup with a deliberate clink, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. "That¡¯s rich, Miss Bet. Dignity, you say? After I paid for your father¡¯s hospital bills, now you want to talk about dignity?" Hisughter was low, a rumble that sent a chill down Eliana¡¯s spine. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his clouded gaze pinning her in ce. "Remind me, weren¡¯t you the one who got on your knees, begging me to sleep with you just for a taste of my money? And now you¡¯re standing here, acting all high and mighty?"


    The words hit like a p, and Eliana¡¯s breath caught in her throat. Her cheeks flushed, the heat creeping up her neck as the memory of that night in his office flooded back. Also, the memory of waking up in his oversized shirt, her mind a fog of panic, believing she¡¯d crossed a line she could never uncross. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she fought the tears prickling behind her eyes. The staff exchanged nces, their whispers barely audible but sharp enough to cut. ra¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, and the maid¡¯s tray rattled slightly as she set it down.


    Eliana¡¯s voice trembled, but she lifted her chin, her eyes zing. "You have no right to talk to me like that, Mr. Vexley. None. I don¡¯t care who you are or how much money you have. I¡¯m not your toy, and I won¡¯t stand here and let you humiliate me in front of everyone." Her voice grew stronger, each word a brick in the wall she was building around her heart. "I came here to thank you and to tell you I¡¯m done. I¡¯m noting back."


    She turned on her heel, her curls bouncing as she strode toward the arched doorway, her sandals squeaking faintly against the marble. Her heart pounded, a mix of fear and triumph surging through her. She was almost to the threshold when Rafael¡¯s voice cut through her triumph, cold andmanding.


    "Walk out that door, Miss Bet, and I¡¯ll make sure everyone knows you¡¯re a thief."


    Eliana froze, her hand hovering over the doorframe. Slowly, she turned, her eyes wide with shock. "What did you say?"


    Rafael¡¯s smile was a de, sharp and gleaming. He rolled his wheelchair forward, the soft hum of the motor the only sound in the room. "You heard me. If you leave and don¡¯te back to work as my caregiver, I¡¯ll tell the world you stole the money that paid for your father¡¯s hospital bills. I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re caught in the police until you pay me back¡ªevery cent."


    Eliana¡¯s mouth fell open, her breath hitching. "You can¡¯t do that," she said, her voice rising with disbelief. She took a step toward him, her hands trembling. "I didn¡¯t pay those bills¡ªyou did! I never even saw that money with my own eyes. No one would believe you!"


    Rafael¡¯sughter erupted, rich and unrestrained, filling the room like a storm. He pped his hands once, the sound sharp and mocking. "Oh, Eliana, you sweet, naive girl," he said, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "The rich can change the truth however it suits them. Do you think anyone will question me? Rafael Vexley, the poor, blind billionaire, taken advantage of by a desperate little caregiver?" He leaned back, folding his arms, his voice dripping with condescension. "I havewyers, connections, and a story that¡¯ll make headlines. You? You have nothing."


    Eliana stared at him, her mouth still open, her heart hammering so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as Rafael¡¯s words sank into her bones. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wanted to scream, to hurl every insult she could think of, but her voice caught in her throat. The staff stood frozen, their faces a mix of pity and difort, but none dared intervene. ra¡¯s hands twisted in her apron, and James¡¯s gaze dropped to his tablet, as if he could will himself invisible.


    "You¡¯re a monster," Eliana whispered, her voice barely audible but heavy with conviction. Her hands shook as she pointed at him, her curls trembling with the motion. "You think you can just... twist everything? Make me the viin? I didn¡¯t steal your money. I didn¡¯t ask for any of this!"


    Rafael¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver, but something flickered in his eyes¡ªsomething fleeting, like a crack in his armor. "You¡¯re in my world now, Eliana," he said softly, his voice almost gentle, but it carried a venom that made her skin crawl. "And in my world, the truth is whatever I say it is."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched again, her chest tight with a mix of rage and despair. She wanted to run, to escape the suffocating weight of his power, but her feet felt glued to the floor. Her father¡¯s face shed in her mind¡ªhis gentle dark eyes, his weathered hands, his quiet pride. She¡¯d promised to protect him, to keep him safe. Could Rafael really destroy them both with a lie? Her gaze darted to the staff, to the gleaming chandeliers, to the man in the wheelchair who held her future in his hands. Her mouth opened, then closed, words failing her as the reality of his threat settled like a stone in her stomach.


    She looked at him, her mouth still open in shock, her heart a battlefield of defiance and fear.

 Chapter 25: Don’t Fight It

    <h4>Chapter 25: Don¡¯t Fight It</h4>


    Eliana Bet¡¯s chest tightened with a cold dread that made her stomach twist. She stood frozen, trembling from head to toe, tears gathering in her wide eyes before slipping down her soft warm cheeks.


    Rafael Vexley¡¯s words echoed in her mind, sharp and cruel<i>: "The truth is whatever I say it is."</i>


    Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, like a bird trapped in a tiny cage, thrashing to get free. Deep down, she knew he wasn¡¯t wrong. In his world¡ªthe world of the rich and untouchable¡ªtruth was just another thing they could bend and twist to fit their stories. Her dreams, worn thin like the soles of her sandals, meant nothing here. She was just another thread in the grand fabric he controlled, and he could snip her away whenever he felt like it.


    She opened her mouth, desperate to speak, but no words came out. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms until they stung. Maybe if she focused on that pain, she wouldn¡¯t fall apart right there in front of him. The air felt heavy, almost too thick to breathe, and even the faint clinking sounds from the staff setting the table seemed to mock her silence.


    She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him that he couldn¡¯t do this to her, that he couldn¡¯t just y with her life like it was his favourite game. But the words were trapped behind her teeth, tangled with fear and anger. Her curls quivered as she shook her head in disbelief, as if denying this reality would make it vanish.


    Rafael didn¡¯t care. He wheeled himself back to the table and leaned back in his chair, studying her with those cold steel-grey eyes that saw everything and felt nothing. His sharp jaw tensed slightly, and then a smirk spread across his lips¡ªa smirk that felt more like a wolf baring its teeth.


    Slowly, he picked up his fork and speared a piece of steak, moving with deliberate calmness, like he had all the time in the world. The gentle clink of metal against his te cut through the tense silence like hot knife. He chewed with infuriating ease, as if he hadn¡¯t just torn her world apart with one sentence.


    For him, this was nothing but another move in a game he knew he would always win.


    "Eliana," he said after a few bites, his voice smooth butced with steel, "you¡¯re still standing there. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re nning to make a scene again." He dabbed his lips with a crisp white napkin, the motion almost theatrical, before setting it down with a flourish. "It¡¯s simple, really. You owe me. And I¡¯m not a patient man."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched, her tears falling faster now, hot and heavy. She swiped at them angrily, her voice finally breaking free, though it trembled with the weight of her emotions. "You can¡¯t do this, Rafael. You can¡¯t just... trap me here like some kind of prisoner! I didn¡¯t steal anything! You know I didn¡¯t!"


    His smirk widened, a glint of dark amusement flickering in his eyes. "Prisoner? Oh, don¡¯t be so dramatic, Miss Bet. I¡¯m offering you a job and a chance to repay your debt. Most would call that generous." He tilted his head, his wavy dark hair catching the light, making him look like some fallen angel ying at benevolence. "But if you¡¯d rather test my patience, go ahead."


    Eliana moved before she even realized it, her sandals squeaking against the smooth marble floor as she turned away from him. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat pushing her forward with a shaky mix of desperation and stubborn hope. <i>He¡¯s bluffing,</i> she told herself over and over, trying to calm the panic rising inside her. <i>I didn¡¯t steal anything. He¡¯s just trying to scare me.</i>


    She was almost at the doorway, her fingertips brushing the cold wood of the doorframe. Freedom was right there, so close she could taste it, when Rafael¡¯s voice pulled her to a stop.


    "Not so fast," he drawled, his toneced with mocking surprise. It made her flinch. "I almost forgot to mention¡ª"


    She turned to face him, her chest tight with dread.


    "If you¡¯re going to work for me properly, Eliana," he continued, leaning back in his wheelchair with that same infuriating calm, "you¡¯ll need to be close. You¡¯ll live here, in my house, until everyst penny of your debt is paid. Only then¡ª only then¡ªcan you walk away."


    Her body froze mid-step, her mouth falling open in shock. She spun around, her curls bouncing wildly, her eyes zing with a mix of horror and indignation. "Live here?" she choked out, her voice rising. "You can¡¯t be serious! I have a home, Rafael! I have a life! You can¡¯t just demand I uproot everything because you say so!"


    Rafael¡¯sughter was low and rich, rolling through the room like thunder. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the arms of his wheelchair, his clouded gaze pinning her in ce. "Oh, but I can, Eliana. And I am. You¡¯ll move in today. No arguments, no dys. You¡¯ll do your job, and you¡¯ll do it well, or I¡¯ll make sure your father hospital stay is a lot less...fortable."


    Eliana¡¯s hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. Her vision blurred with fresh tears, and she shook her head, her voice a desperate plea. "This isn¡¯t fair! You¡¯re twisting everything, Rafael! I didn¡¯t force you to give me your money, and I didn¡¯t ask for this! Why are you doing this to me?"


    He didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to ra¡¯s direction, who stood frozen near the sideboard, her hands twisting nervously in her apron. "ra, are you there?" he asked.


    "Yes sir." ra replied walking up to him.


    "ra," he said, his voice clipped and authoritative, "prepare a room for Miss Bet. Make sure it¡¯s ready by tonight."


    ra¡¯s dark eyes darted to Eliana, filled with a sympathy that only deepened Eliana¡¯s despair. "Yes, sir," she murmured, her voice soft but strained, before casting Eliana a look that begged her to stay calm.


    Rafael¡¯s gaze returned towards Eliana¡¯s direction slightly, his expression unyielding. "You have until tonight to settle in," he said, his tone final. "I won¡¯t tolerate excuses tomorrow. Understood?"


    Eliana¡¯s mouth opened again, a protest forming, but Rafael was already moving. He wiped his lips with the napkin once more, the gesture precise and dismissive, before rolling his wheelchair toward the door. The soft hum of the motor filled the room, a stark contrast to the chaos in Eliana¡¯s heart. James, his assistant, followed silently, his sses glinting as he adjusted them, avoiding Eliana¡¯s gaze as they exited the dining room.


    Eliana stood alone in the cavernous space, her breathing in shallow gasps. The weight of Rafael¡¯s ultimatum pressed down on her, heavy as the marble beneath her feet. Her mind raced, reying his words, his smirk, the way he¡¯d toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. She wanted to run, to flee this house and never look back, but the image of her father¡¯s gentle, weathered face held her in ce. Frank Bet, with his kind eyes and quiet strength, deserved better than to be caught in Rafael¡¯s web of lies.


    ra¡¯s soft footsteps broke the silence as she approached, her expression a mix of pity and caution. "Eliana," she said gently, her voice sounding small, "don¡¯t fight him. It never ends well for those who do. Mr. Vexley... he¡¯s not like other men. He¡¯s got ways of making things happen, ways you can¡¯t fight."


    Eliana turned to her, tears streaming down her face, her voice trembling with frustration. "ra, how can I just... ept this? He¡¯s trying to control my life! I can¡¯t let him do that!"


    ra¡¯s lips pressed into a sad smile, her hands reaching out to squeeze Eliana¡¯s arm. "I know, sweetheart. I know it ain¡¯t right. But you¡¯ve gotta be smart about this. Go get your things today, bring ¡¯em here. If you don¡¯t..." She hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease. "You¡¯ll regret it tomorrow. Trust me."


    Eliana¡¯s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her like water from a cracked vase. "I don¡¯t understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "How did this happen? How did I end up here?"


    ra¡¯s smile softened, tinged with a sorrow that seemed to carry years of unspoken stories. "I¡¯ll have your room ready when you get back," she said, her voice kind but firm. "Just... do what you need to do, Eliana." With that, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing faintly as she disappeared through a side door, leaving Eliana alone in the vast, glittering dining room.


    Eliana stood there, her heart a battlefield of defiance and despair. The chandelier¡¯s light danced across the walls, creating shadows that seemed to mock her predicament. Her hands trembled as she wiped her tears, her mind a whirlwind of questions. What had just happened? How had her life spiraled into this trap, orchestrated by a man who wielded power like a weapon? She nced at the doorway where Rafael had disappeared, his coldughter still ringing in her ears. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes¡ªa crack in his clouded gaze, a hint of light. But it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving her to wonder if she¡¯d imagined it.


    With a shaky breath, Eliana turned toward the door, her steps heavy with the weight of a future she couldn¡¯t escape. Not yet.

 Chapter 26: Waiting

    <h4>Chapter 26: Waiting</h4>


    It waste afternoon. The sun slipped through the grimy window of Eliana Bet¡¯s tiny apartment. The room smelled of damp wood mixed with the faint sting of hospital antiseptic still clinging to her worn-out cardigan. Eliana stood in the center of her cramped living room, a half-packed suitcase open on the sagging couch. Her slender fingers trembled as she folded a faded blue dress, its hem frayed from months of wear. Her eyes, were dulled by exhaustion and the seriousness of Rafael Vexley¡¯s ultimatum. She¡¯d spent the morning after the visit to Rafael¡¯s house, at the hospital, sitting by her father¡¯s bedside, watching his chest rise and fall withbored breaths.


    Frank Bet looked so fragile lying there, his thin, weathered face almost blending into the crisp white sheets. His dark eyes, usually so warm and bright, flickered with pain he was trying so hard to hide. Eliana wanted to tell him everything¡ªhow Rafael was tearing her world apart with his threats and demands, how scared and lost she felt¡ªbut the words refused toe out. They stuck in her throat like stones.


    The steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the room, each sharp sound like a warning that his time was running out. He turned his tired eyes to her and gave a small, shaky smile. "Don¡¯t worry about me, Ellie," he rasped, his voice rough but still carrying that gentle warmth. "Just keep that smile of yours. It¡¯s all I need."


    She tried to smile back, but her lips trembled as tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed his hand, holding on a little longer before whispering that she¡¯d visit again soon. As she walked out of the room, the silence she¡¯d left behind felt heavier than ever, pressing down on her chest with every step.


    Back in her tiny apartment, Eliana sank onto the edge of her creaky bed, gripping the old suitcase so tightly her hands hurt. "Damn you, Rafael Vexley," she whispered, her voice low and shaking with anger. "Damn the day I ever met you."


    Her thoughts spun out of control, dragging her back to that moment when Sarai, her so-called best friend, had suggested the job as Rafael¡¯s caregiver. Did Sarai know what kind of monster he was? Had that perfect smile and sweet, honeyed voice been nothing but a trap to push her into this golden cage?


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened as anger burned in her veins. She could almost see Sarai¡¯s smug green eyes, the way they always glinted with hidden envy, her sleek hair never out of ce, her expensive heels clicking on the floor like a predator stalking prey.


    "No," Eliana muttered under her breath, shaking her head hard. "No more thinking about her. She¡¯s not worth it."


    She blinked back the tears threatening to fall and forced herself to focus. With shaking hands, she shoved thest of her clothes¡ªa faded old sweater and a pair of worn jeans¡ªinto the suitcase, trying to block out everything else.


    The clock on the wall ticked past 6:00 p.m., its hands moving with agonizing slowness. The apartment was a bit dark now, the sun dipping below the horizon. Eliana stood, slinging the duffel over her shoulder, her curly ck hair spilling over her jacket. She took onest look around, her gaze lingering on a framed sunflower sketch she had made for her father when life was still good, its vibrant yellow faded to a ghostly hue. "I¡¯ll be back," she whispered, as if the promise could anchor her to this life she was being forced to leave. She turned toward the door, heart hammering in her chest, when a sudden buzz in her pocket made her jump. She pulled out her phone, and the screen lit up with a name that made her blood run cold: <strong><i>Jason.</i></strong>


    Her breath caught, her fingers hovering over the phone. Jason Asher, her ex-fianc¨¦, the golden boy who¡¯d shattered her heart by sleeping with Sarai. Three weeks had passed since she¡¯d left his mansion, her engagement ring taken away by his mother, her tears staining the driveway. He hadn¡¯t called, hadn¡¯t texted, hadn¡¯t cared¡ªuntil now. Her thumb hovered over the answer button, a mix of fury and curiosity warring within her. "What do you want, Jason?" she muttered, her voice barely audible. Against her better judgment, she pressed the button and held the phone to her ear.


    "Eliana?" His voice was smooth,ced with that familiar charm that had once made her heart flutter. "Hey, it¡¯s me. I... I just wanted to check in. It¡¯s been a while."


    Eliana¡¯s grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles whitening. "A while?" she snapped, her voice rising with indignation.


    There was a pause, and she could almost see his hazel eyes narrowing, his blonde hair falling artfully over his forehead as he crafted his next lie. "I miss you, Ellie," he said, his tone dripping with faux sincerity. "I messed up, okay? I know that. But I¡¯ve been thinking about us, about what we had¡ª"


    "What we had?" Eliana cut him off, her voice trembling with rage. "What we had was a lie, Jason! You think I don¡¯t know you were sleeping with our best friend behind my back?! You don¡¯t get to call me now and act like you care!"


    "Ellie, please," he pleaded, his voice softening. "I¡¯m not perfect, but neither are you. We can work this out. I know you still love me."


    He didn¡¯t even sound surprised, let alone bother to apologize.


    Her eyes stung with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "You don¡¯t know anything about me anymore," she said, her voice low and steely. "Don¡¯t call me again, Jason. I¡¯m done with you." She hung up before he could respond, her chest heaving as she tossed the phone into her pocket. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in, and for a moment, she thought she might scream. Instead, she grabbed her bag and stormed out, the door mming behind her, the echo ringing in her ears as she stepped into the chilly evening air.


    <strong>******</strong>


    Meanwhile, inside the sprawling luxury of Rafael Vexley¡¯s mansion, the billionaire recluse sat alone in his darkened office. His wheelchair was pulled up close to his polished mahogany desk, the dim light from his deskmp spilling across the table.


    Rafael¡¯s steel-grey eyes, cold and calcting, stared unblinking at the tablet in his hand. The screen showed a live feed from the front gate, where security guards stood watch under the pale glow of themps. The driveway was empty and silent, nothing but stillness beyond the iron bars.


    He drummed his fingers against the armrest, each tap echoing his growing impatience. His jaw clenched tight as thoughts raced through his mind. Would Elianae back to him like he ordered? Or would she dare defy him again, with that stubborn fire burning in her eyes?


    A thin smirk flickered at the corner of his lips. The thought of her resistance both irritated and intrigued him. Either way, she would learn who truly held the power.


    James stood by the door, hisnky frame shifting nervously. "Sir," he ventured, adjusting his sses, "why are you so... invested in this? In her? Tormenting Miss Bet¡ªit doesn¡¯t seem like you."


    Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a sardonic smile, his gaze still locked on the tablet. "We¡¯ve been over this, James," he drawled, his voice smooth but edged with ice. "It¡¯s fun. She¡¯s... entertaining. A puzzle I haven¡¯t quite solved."


    James frowned, his brow furrowing. "But sir, she¡¯s just a girl. She¡¯s not like the others you¡¯ve dealt with. She¡¯s... naive and kind. Why make her life harder than it already is?"


    Rafael¡¯s smile faded, his fingers pausing mid-tap. For a moment, his eyes flickered with something unreadable¡ªregret, perhaps, or something deeper. But it was gone in an instant, reced by his usual mask of indifference. "You¡¯re dismissed for the day, James," he said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Go home."


    James hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. His footsteps were quiet as he walked out of the office, and the soft click of the closing door left Rafael alone with his thoughts. The room fell silent, broken only by the low hum of the tablet in his hand.


    Rafael leaned back in his wheelchair, his fingers slowly tracing the smooth edge of the armrest. His steel-grey eyes stared nkly ahead as his mind began to drift. Waiting. He despised it. Every second felt like ws scraping against his skin, pulling him back to memories he¡¯d spent years trying to bury.


    Without warning, the memory flooded in¡ªsharp and painfully clear. He was just nine years old again, curled up in a cold hospital bed, the sharp sting of antiseptic burning his nose. Everything was darkness. An ident had stolen his sight and ripped his mother away from him in one cruel instant.


    He clenched his jaw tight, willing the memory to disappear. He wasn¡¯t that weak, helpless boy anymore. He¡¯d sworn he would never be that way again.


    But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the memory refused to leave. It clung to him stubbornly, ying out in his mind like a scene he couldn¡¯t escape.


    <i>To be continued in the next Chapter...</i>

 Chapter 27: Waiting (Continuation)

    <h4>Chapter 27: Waiting (Continuation)</h4>


    The memory wed its way to the surface without permission.


    Rafael didn¡¯t ask for it. He never did.


    But tonight, as the mansion sat cloaked in silence and shadows, it came anyway¡ªuninvited, unwanted, and merciless.


    <strong>shback - Twenty Years Ago</strong>


    The soft chime of the school bell had barely faded when Rafael spotted his mother standing at the gate, her figure taut with unease. She looked breathtaking as always¡ªtall, graceful, with her coat fluttering in the evening breeze like she belonged on a magazine cover. But even at nine, Rafael had learned how to read faces, and something in hers was... off.


    "Mam¨¢!" Rafael ran up to her, his tiny backpack bouncing with each step. "You¡¯re early today!"


    She smiled quickly, too quickly. Her beautiful gray eyes darted around the street behind him, scanning each face, each shadow. Her hand gripped his tightly¡ªtoo tightly.


    He frowned. "Are you okay?"


    She forced another smile. "I¡¯m fine, mi amor." Her voice trembled slightly. "Let¡¯s get you home, okay?"


    "But¡ª" he began, but she tugged him toward the car.


    Rafael climbed into the passenger seat, the door shutting with a soft click that felt too loud in the tense quiet between them. He didn¡¯t buckle up right away¡ªjust stared at her. His mother gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. Her eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror, again and again, like something¡ªor someone¡ªmight appear at any second. Her chest rose and fell in fast, shallow breaths, like she was trying to stay calm and failing miserably.


    "Mam¨¢?" His voice was small, careful. "Why do you look scared?"


    Her hands flinched like the question had reached out and touched her. She nced at him, and for a second, he saw it¡ªthe truth she hadn¡¯t said out loud yet. Her face looked like it had forgotten how to hide things: fear, exhaustion, and something close to heartbreak flickered across her features like broken lights.


    "I¡¯m not scared," she whispered, voice barely holding itself together. "Just... tired, sweetheart."


    Rafael blinked, unconvinced. She always tried to sound strong, but this wasn¡¯t strength¡ªthis was the kind of tired that lived in the bones.


    "Is someone following us?" he asked gently.


    She opened her mouth like she had a ready answer, then shut it just as quickly. Her jaw clenched. Her mask slipped for the briefest moment¡ªand there it was. Pure fear. Sharp, naked, and real. Then, just as quickly, she forced it away and smoothed her face into something softer.


    "No one is after us, Rafi," she said, but her voice quivered on the edges. "You don¡¯t have to worry. I¡¯ll always protect you. Always, okay?"


    He nodded slowly, even though he didn¡¯t buy it. Something felt... off. Off in that way kids could sense, even when no one said anything.


    The engine hummed beneath them, and they drove on. Neither of them spoke. The sky outside darkened, heavy clouds swallowing the light as they sped along the highway. Rafael reached into his backpack for hisic book, flipping through the pages without really reading. Every once in a while, he peeked at his mom.


    Her hands were still trembling.


    The silence stretched, thick and electric, like the pause before a storm.


    Then¡ª


    <strong>BAM.</strong>


    The world lurched.


    Screeching tires. His mother¡¯s scream tearing through the air. His own voice joining hers, raw with terror.


    Metal shrieked as it collided with something unmovable. Rafael felt himself thrown sideways, the seatbelt snapping him back just in time. His head mmed into the window, and a sharp pain shot through his skull like fireworks exploding behind his eyes.


    ss shattered.


    The car spun.


    He was floating¡ªthen crashing.


    Then nothing but a horrible, final crunch. Steel. Earth. Bone.


    And then...


    Silence.


    A silence so deep it felt like the world had stopped breathing.


    Darkness.


    But not the kind of darkness thates with nightfall.


    This was worse. This was inside him.


    Permanent.


    Rafael¡¯s hands flew upward in the ck. His fingers wed at the air. Blind. He blinked again and again but saw nothing.


    "Mam¨¢?" His voice cracked around the word. "Mam¨¢?!"


    No answer.


    Panic climbed into his throat like fire.


    He turned his head and smelled it¡ªblood, thick and metallic. Smoke, bitter and suffocating. Gasoline, sharp and dangerous. The seatbelt dug into his chest, tight and unforgiving, but he didn¡¯t care.


    "MAM¨¢!" he screamed, throat raw.


    Still nothing.


    The wreckage groaned around him. A distant drip. A whine of wind through shattered ss.


    But no voice. No arms. Nofort.


    Just Rafael.


    Alone.


    Blind.


    And scared out of his mind.


    The sound came first¡ªboots crunching over gravel, heavy and urgent. Men shouting. Then hands¡ªrough, unfamiliar¡ªdragging him from the wreckage, tearing him from thest ce he¡¯d seen her alive.


    Still, Rafael screamed her name. His throat was raw, but it didn¡¯t matter. He screamed until his voice broke.


    He kept screaming even as someone strapped him to a gurney, even as paramedics muttered in hushed, grave voices just out of reach. He kept screaming as someone gently, almost reverently, pulled a white sheet over the crumpled body next to the mangled car.


    He didn¡¯t stop until the needle slid into his arm and the world dimmed under the grip of sedatives.


    <strong>Present Day ¨C Rafael¡¯s Study, Night</strong>


    Rafael¡¯s eyes snapped open.


    He gasped like he¡¯d been drowning, dragging air into his lungs in ragged pulls. Sweat soaked his shirt, clinging to his spine and brow. His hand trembled as he pushed himself back from the desk. The familiar ache bloomed in his chest¡ªsharp, hollow.


    He hated this part.


    Hated how the past still wrapped around his throat like barbed wire, even after all these years. The memory always came back the same way: loud, brutal, and unforgiving. Falling. The helplessness. The silence that followed.


    He rolled his wheelchair slowly toward therge window, dark now except for the glow of security lights outside. The surveince feed on his tablet showed the driveway.


    Still no sign of Eliana.


    His fingers tapped against the armrest, restless. The waiting scratched at him from the inside¡ªtaunting, constant. He loathed waiting. Always had.


    Because waiting had been the cruelest part of it all.


    After the crash, he¡¯d spent three days in a hospital bed. Alone. Blind. Nine years old and screaming into a pillow until his throat gave out. Asking questions no one would answer.


    The nurses were kind, yes. Their voices were soft. Their hands gentle. But their words? Empty.


    "Your father¡¯sing soon," they whispered. "Just rest, Rafael. He¡¯ll be here."


    But he never came.


    Not that night.


    Not the next.


    Not even the third.


    The only one who showed was his grandfather¡ªstormy-eyed, jaw clenched, disgust radiating from every inch of him.


    "I¡¯ll take him," the old man had growled at the attending doctor. "He¡¯s not rotting away here one more night."


    And that was it.


    No warm reunion. No father¡¯s embrace. Just a silent, bitter march out of the hospital, Rafael clinging to the old man¡¯s coat like a lifeline, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Blind. Shattered. Alone.


    The world felt colder after that.


    Harder.


    That was the day Rafael Vexley learned how to stop expecting rescue.


    That was the day something inside him stopped hoping.


    A knock jolted him back.


    He didn¡¯t flinch. Just kept staring at the screen.


    "Enter."


    The door creaked open, and ra stepped inside. Her presence was careful, unobtrusive. Hands folded neatly behind her back, voice low and polite. "Sir... it¡¯s gettingte. Would you like something to eat?"


    "No."


    She lingered.


    "She may note tonight," ra offered gently. "Perhaps tomorrow."


    "She¡¯lle." Rafael¡¯s reply was ice. Calm. Final.


    ra shifted her weight. "And if she doesn¡¯t... what should I do with the room I prepared?"


    A pause stretched between them like a de.


    His eyes narrowed slightly. His voice, when it came, was quiet and lethal. "She will."


    ra drew a slow breath. "With all due respect, sir... why are you doing this?" Her tone was still respectful, but something fragile hovered behind it. "You have women practically begging for your attention. Why put Miss Bet through this? Why torment her?"


    Rafael turned his head just slightly in her direction, careful to mask the fact that he could see her through the reflection in the dark ss.


    "Because she¡¯s different."


    ra blinked. "Different how?"


    "She¡¯s not actively chasing my money. Not yet, anyway." His voice dipped into something almost uncertain. "She can stand in front of me and still speak her mind. She doesn¡¯t cower when I go cold. Doesn¡¯t flinch when I¡¯m cruel."


    ra tilted her head. "Then why be cruel?"


    Rafael leaned back in his chair, letting out a softugh. Dry. Joyless. "Because if I don¡¯t test her, how will I know she¡¯s real?"


    ra fell Silent.


    "I¡¯ve seen kindness used like a weapon," he muttered, voice turning sharp at the edges. "Sweet words hiding knives. Smiles hiding teeth."


    "Miss Bet isn¡¯t like that," ra said softly. "And deep down, you know it."


    He didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, his eyes drifted back to the screen.


    The driveway was still empty.


    A silent battlefield.


    "Get out, ra," he said, voice suddenly cold. "And don¡¯t ever question my choices again."


    She froze.


    "Just because I treat you a little better than the others doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re equals. Know your ce."


    ra stiffened, bowing her head. "Yes, sir. I¡¯ll be in the kitchen if you need anything."


    She left quietly, shutting the door behind her with practiced grace.


    And then, Rafael was alone again.


    The silence closed in fast, pressing against his skin like a ghost. He hated silence. It sounded too much like that hospital room¡ªthe one where he¡¯d waited, and waited, and waited... for someone who never came.


    The tablet in hisp slipped onto the desk. His fingers hovered above it, then slowly dropped.


    His gaze stayed fixed on the screen.


    The camera feed showed nothing but stillness.


    But he waited anyway.


    "Eliana wille," he murmured to the empty room.


    He said it again¡ªmore to himself than anyone.


    "She always does."

 Chapter 28: Still Mine

    <h4>Chapter 28: Still Mine</h4>


    The evening air hung heavy with the scent of rain as Jason Asher leaned against the balcony of his family¡¯s sprawling penthouse, the city skyline glittering below like a taunt. His hazel eyes, usually bright with calcted charm, were shadowed, his jaw tight as he clutched his phone, still reeling from Eliana¡¯s words. "You don¡¯t know anything about me anymore. Don¡¯t call me again, Jason. I¡¯m done with you." Her voice, sharp and unyielding, echoed in his mind, slicing through the haze of his self-assured arrogance. Eliana¡ªhis Eliana, the girl who once gazed at him like he hung the stars¡ªhad hung up on him. Hung up. On him. The audacity of it stung like a p, and yet, beneath the sting, a flicker of something else stirred: desperation.


    Inside, the penthouse buzzed with Sarai¡¯s presence. The clink of her wine ss against the marble countertop, the sharp click of her stilettos pacing the polished hardwood, the faint hum of her voice as she chatted with someone on her phone¡ªprobably another influencer, another rung on her endlessdder of ambition. Jason¡¯s lips curled into a grimace. Three weeks ago, he¡¯d thought Sarai was the answer, the glittering upgrade to Eliana¡¯s quiet, unpolished devotion. Sarai was fire and sh, all sleek ck hair and designer dresses, her green eyes sharp enough to cut through any room. But now, standing on this balcony with Eliana¡¯s rejection burning in his chest, Jason realized something he¡¯d been too proud to admit: Sarai was exhausting.


    He pushed off the railing, his tailored zer creasing as he stormed back inside, the ss door sliding shut with a soft hiss. Sarai was perched on a velvet barstool, her glossy lips pursed as she scrolled through her phone, her emerald-green dress clinging to her like a second skin. She didn¡¯t look up, but her voice carried that familiar edge of syrupy condescension. "You¡¯re pacing again, Jason. It¡¯s giving me a headache."


    Jason stopped short, his sneakers squeaking against the floor. "Maybe I¡¯m pacing because I¡¯m sick of this," he snapped, his voice low butced with frustration. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, mussing its artful perfection. "Sick of you."


    Sarai¡¯s head snapped up, her green eyes narrowing like a cat¡¯s. "Excuse me?" She set her phone down with deliberate slowness, the ck of it against the counter sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room. "What¡¯s that supposed to mean, Jason? I¡¯m the one who¡¯s been here, holding your hand while you mope over her."


    Jason¡¯s jaw clenched. "Don¡¯t. Don¡¯t bring Eliana into this."


    Saraiughed, a sharp, brittle sound that grated on his nerves. "Oh, please. You¡¯re the one who called her, aren¡¯t you? Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t hear you out there, whispering her name like some lovesick puppy." She slid off the barstool, her heels clicking as she sauntered toward him, her perfume¡ªa cloying mix of jasmine and ambition¡ªfilling the space between them. "What is it about her, Jason? Her sad little thrift-store sweaters? Her pathetic little apartment? Or is it that she worships the ground you walk on? Because let¡¯s be honest, I don¡¯t."


    Jason¡¯s hands balled into fists at his sides. "Maybe that¡¯s the problem, Sarai. You don¡¯t let me breathe. Everything¡¯s apetition with you. What I wear, what I say, who I talk to¡ªit¡¯s like I¡¯m auditioning for your approval every damn day."


    Sarai¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes shed with something darker¡ªjealousy, maybe, or the sharp sting of being called out. "Auditioning? Oh, honey, you¡¯re lucky I even give you the time of day. You think Eliana could keep up with you? With us? She¡¯s nothing. A nobody. My parents have more money in their wine cer than her entire family will ever see again. Guess what, Keh Holloway is gone. Eliana would never be in our ss again!"


    Jason¡¯s chest tightened, a familiar shame creeping up his spine. He¡¯d heard it all before¡ªhis parents¡¯ voices, Sarai¡¯s, the whispers at theirvish parties about Eliana¡¯s "unsuitable" background. Her faded clothes, her father¡¯s hospital bills, the way she carried herself with a quiet dignity that made their world of excess look garish. He¡¯d let those whispers get to him, let his mother¡¯s cold fingers pry the engagement ring off Eliana¡¯s hand, let Sarai¡¯s honeyed promises pull him into her bed. But now, standing here with Sarai¡¯s smug face staring him down, he felt like he was drowning.


    "You don¡¯t get it, do you?" he said, his voice quieter now, but heavy with realization. "Eliana never tried to change me. She didn¡¯t care about my family¡¯s money or what I wore or how I looked at parties. She just... loved me. And I threw it away."


    Sarai¡¯s smirk faltered, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "Loved you? Jason, she was obsessed with you. Clinging to you like some pathetic little leech. I did you a favor, getting her out of your life." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "And don¡¯t pretend you didn¡¯t enjoy it. You wanted me. You still do."


    Jason¡¯s stomach churned. He thought of the nights with Sarai, her sharpughter, her endless demands¡ªWear this, not that. Don¡¯t talk to them, they¡¯re beneath us. Why can¡¯t you be more like this? He thought of Eliana¡¯s soft smile, the way she¡¯d hum to herself while sketching sunflowers, the way her honey-brown eyes lit up when he told a stupid joke. Eliana had never asked him to be anything but himself. Sarai, on the other hand, wanted a version of him that didn¡¯t exist¡ªa polished, perfect puppet to match her influencer aesthetic.


    "Did you tell her?" Jason asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the tension. "About us. Did you tell Eliana we were sleeping together?"


    Sarai froze, her green eyes flickering with something¡ªguilt, maybe, or defiance. "What if I did?" she said, tossing her head so her sleek bun caught the light. "She deserved to know the truth. You¡¯re mine, Jason. Not hers. You¡¯ve always been mine."


    Sarai had no clue how Eliana found out but she wasn¡¯t sorry she did.


    The words hit Jason like acid. "Yours?" he repeated, his voice rising with incredulity. "You don¡¯t own me, Sarai. And you sure as hell don¡¯t love me. You love the idea of me, the heir to the Asher fortune, the guy who looks good on your Instagram feed. But Eliana?" He took a step toward her, his hazel eyes zing. "She loved me. The real me. And I was too stupid to see it."


    Sarai¡¯s face twisted, herposure cracking like thin ice. "You¡¯re delusional," she spat. "You think you can just crawl back to her and she¡¯ll take you? After everything? She¡¯s nothing, Jason. Nothing! And you¡ª" She jabbed a finger at his chest, her voice trembling with rage. "You¡¯ll always choose me. Because I¡¯m better than her. Tell me I¡¯m better, Jason. Tell me you love me more."


    Jason stared at her, his heart pounding. He¡¯d heard this demand before, her constant need for validation, her obsession with outshining Eliana. It was suffocating, like a chain tightening around his chest. "I don¡¯t," he said finally, his voice steady. "I don¡¯t love you more. I don¡¯t love you at all."


    The silence that followed was deafening. Sarai¡¯s mouth opened, then closed, her green eyes wide with shock. For the first time, Jason saw her not as the fierce, untouchable queen she pretended to be, but as a desperate girl clinging to a fantasy. "You don¡¯t mean that," she whispered, but her voice wavered.


    "I do," he said, turning away from her. He grabbed his jacket from the couch, his mind racing. Eliana¡¯s words reyed in his head¡ª"I¡¯m done with you." His quiet, gentle Eliana, who¡¯d once called him just to hear his voice, who¡¯d forgiven his ws time and again, had shut him out. And it was his fault. His mother¡¯s voice echoed in his mind, her cold insistence that Eliana was "beneath" them, that Sarai was the better match. He¡¯d listened, let them strip away the ring he¡¯d given Eliana, let them convince him she was disposable. But now, the weight of that mistake crushed him.


    He strode toward the door, ignoring Sarai¡¯s sharp cry of "Jason, wait!" His hand was on the knob when he turned back, his expression hard. "I¡¯m going to get her back," he said, his voice low and resolute. "Eliana¡¯s still mine. And I¡¯m not letting her go again."


    As he stepped into the elevator, the doors closing on Sarai¡¯s stunned face, Jason¡¯s heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. He didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d win Eliana back¡ªdidn¡¯t know if she¡¯d even listen after what he¡¯d done. But one thing was certain: he¡¯d fight for her, no matter what it took. And he¡¯d start by finding out where she was and what exactly Sarai had done to tear them apart.


    Because to Jason Asher, Eliana Bet was still his fiance.

 Chapter 29: Everything Hurts

    <h4>Chapter 29: Everything Hurts</h4>


    A storm had not yete, but Rafael could feel it in his bones.


    The night hung still and heavy around the Vexley mansion, pressing into the walls like a breath held too long. In his office¡ªthe coldest and most secluded wing of the estate¡ªRafael sat behind his massive desk in perfect silence, leaned back in his wheelchair, posture deceptively casual, eyes fixed on the faint glow of the surveince tablet resting on hisp. The quiet hum of the device was the only sound in the room. He swipedzily through the camera feeds, one after the other, each screen showing the same empty driveway, the same quiet gate.


    Still no sign of Eliana.


    He didn¡¯t sigh or frown¡ªjust stared, stone-faced. Waiting.


    Then came the sound. That unmistakable creak of the office door swinging open, slow and theatrical¡ªlike someone wanted to be heard. No knock. No courtesy.


    In one fluid movement, Rafael slid the tablet beneath a stack of neatly arranged papers on his desk, fingers practiced, movements smooth. He didn¡¯t turn around. He didn¡¯t have to. His eyes remained fixed on the reflection in the window¡¯s ss¡ªalways watching, always aware, even in the dark.


    He tilted his head slightly, lips curling into the ghost of a smirk. Then, in that low, dry voice of his¡ªcalm but sharp enough to cut ss¡ªhe spoke.


    "Who¡¯s there?"


    The answer came like a hiss, slick and poisonous.


    Augh. Cool. Mocking. And far too familiar.


    "Oh my," came a voice like silkced with venom. "Still ying the poor, helpless cripple? My, my, how pitiful you look, slumped in that chair, staring at nothing. It¡¯s almost tragic."


    Mirabel Vexley stepped into the room like it belonged to her. Her heels tapped against the polished floor with deliberate slowness¡ªeach step a performance, each click a threat wrapped in elegance. She was, as always, dressed to kill. Literally, if necessary.


    Tall and effortlessly poised, she moved like a panther in a ballgown¡ªgraceful, dangerous,pletely in control. Her tan skin gleamed under the low light, her dark hair twisted into a wless chignon that screamed perfection. A string of pearls clung to her neck like a noose made fashionable, and her silk dress rustled softly as she walked, a whisper of a sound that belied the sharp edge in her smile.


    Rafael didn¡¯t flinch.


    He didn¡¯t blink.


    But his jaw did tighten, ever so slightly.


    "Mirabel," he said tly, his voice a blend of exhaustion and ice. "What a lovely surprise. Still slithering around the house like a snake in luxury, I see."


    Her smile widened, but it didn¡¯t touch her eyes. "You wound me."


    "No, but I¡¯d like to."


    Herughter sharpened, slicing through the room. She sauntered closer, her heels a stato rhythm, and leaned against the edge of his desk, her manicured nails tapping lightly on the wood. "You¡¯re such a burden, Rafael. Dragging yourself around this house, pretending you¡¯re still relevant. Honestly, you¡¯d be doing us all a favor if you just... didn¡¯t exist anymore." Her lips curled into a cruel smile, her eyes glinting with malice. "A blind, broken boy ying at being a man. It¡¯s pathetic."


    Rafael¡¯s fingers twitched against the armrest, but his voice, when it came, was smooth as silk, each word polished to a lethal edge. "Mirabel, I¡¯ll make you a deal. I¡¯ll die the moment you do¡ªjust so I can have the pleasure of watching you burn in hell first." His lips curved into a smile, cold and sharp, the kind that promised retribution without raising his voice. "I¡¯d hate to miss the show."


    Mirabel¡¯s eyes narrowed, herposure flickering like a candle in a storm. She straightened, folding her arms, the pearls at her wrist catching the light. "You ungrateful little wretch," she snapped. "What are you even doing here, creeping around in the dark like some damn ghost? If it were up to me, you¡¯d be out of my house and on the curb faster than you could blink."


    "Your house?" Rafael¡¯sugh was low, almost a growl, cutting her off. He leaned forward slightly, his voice steady butced with a threat that seemed to hum in the air. "Let¡¯s get one thing straight, Mirabel. This mansion belonged to my grandfather. And when he died, he left it to me. Not your husband. Not you. Not your greedy, sniveling children. You¡¯re all guests here¡ªstrangers, really. So I suggest you stop slithering into my wing like you own it. Or I¡¯ll have you and your brood thrown out faster than you can reapply your lipstick."


    Mirabel¡¯s fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles paling against her skin. Her face twisted, a sh of fury breaking through her polished facade. "You little bastard," she hissed, the word venomous, spitting from her lips like poison. "I came here because your father wants to see you. Not that you deserve his attention."


    Rafael tilted his head, his smile unwavering, chilling in its calm. "If my father wants me, he can drag himself here. Or better yet, pick up a phone. I¡¯d rather not see his face¡ªor yours, for that matter." He paused, letting the words sink in, then added, "You¡¯re still here, Mirabel. Why? Hoping to steal something from the blind man?"


    "You¡¯re a disgrace," she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Disrespectful, useless, sitting there in your deserved misery. You think you¡¯re clever, don¡¯t you? Hiding behind your little tough act. You¡¯re nothing but a crippled fool."


    Rafael¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter, but his eyes¡ªhidden behind the lie of blindness¡ªburned with a quiet fire. "Get out, Mirabel," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but heavy with authority. "Or I¡¯ll have someone drag you out. And trust me, I¡¯ll enjoy watching that far more than you¡¯d like."


    Mirabel¡¯s lips parted, a sharp retort on her tongue, but the steel in Rafael¡¯s voice stopped her cold. She straightened, her heels clicking as she stepped back, her face a mask of barely contained fury. "You¡¯ll regret this," she snarled, her voice dripping with disdain. "You¡¯re nothing, Rafael. A broken boy in a broken chair. Stay in your corner and rot." With a final, venomous re, she turned and swept out of the room, the door mming behind her with a force that echoed through the silence.


    Rafael exhaled slowly, his shoulders easing as the tension drained from the air. His hand reached for the tablet, pulling it from its hiding ce. The screen flickered to life, showing the same empty driveway. His fingers hovered over it, his heart a tangled knot of anticipation and anger. "Eliana," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. "Where the hell are you?"


    <strong>******</strong>


    Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Eliana Bet pushed through the cold night like a storm in sneakers. Each step hit the cracked pavement with tired defiance, her breath curling in the air like smoke from a dying fire. The streetlights flickered overhead, creating shadows that danced around her like ghosts. Her thin jacket clung to her frame, useless against the biting wind, and her curls bounced wildly with every stride¡ªuntamed, like her thoughts.


    She was running on empty. No money, no ride, just raw determination and a pair of battered sneakers. The bus stop was still a mile away. Rafael¡¯s mansion? Even farther. But turning back wasn¡¯t an option. Not tonight.


    Her chest tightened under the weight of it all¡ªRafael¡¯s venomous words, the secrets she was choking on, her father¡¯s fragile trust, and that infuriating call from Jason. It all pressed in, sharp and heavy, threatening to crack her from the inside out. But the image of Rafael¡ªcold eyes, cruel smirk, every word like a de¡ªlit a fire in her bones. She wasn¡¯t going to let him win. Not tonight.


    So she kept moving. Through the cold. Through the doubt. Through the storm that lived inside her.


    She reached a busy intersection, the roar of traffic filling her ears. The crosswalk light blinked green, and she stepped forward dragging her box behind, her mind drifting to Rafael¡¯s cold, piercing gaze¡ªthose eyes she swore could see her, even if he imed they couldn¡¯t. A sudden screech of tires snapped her back to reality. Headlights blinded her, and before she could react, a car barreled through the intersection, its horn ring.


    The impact was a thunderp of pain.


    Eliana¡¯s body mmed into the pavement, the impact ripping the air from her lungs as chaos exploded around her. Shouts rang out, sharp and panicked, slicing through the night like sirens. Hands were on her¡ªtoo many, too fast¡ªtrying to help, trying to hold her together.


    "Somebody call an ambnce!"


    "She¡¯s not moving!"


    "Is she breathing?!"


    The voices blurred into a single frantic hum. Eliana tried to speak, to move, but her body betrayed her¡ªlimbs like lead, thoughts slipping away like smoke in the wind. The world spun on a crooked axis, the streetlights melting into a hazy blur.


    Somewhere in the distance, an ambnce screamed through the night¡ªbut it felt miles away from where Elianay, the cold pavement hugging her like a final embrace. Her body throbbed with pain, her breath shallow and uneven.


    And still... herst thought was of Rafael. That smug bastard, probably pacing, waiting to tear her apart for beingte. He wanted her broken, desperate¡ªjust another puppet on his string.


    But now, sprawled on the unforgiving asphalt, a darker thought crept in, quiet and cruel: <i>If she didn¡¯t make it... would her dad¡¯s hospital bill still be paid?</i>


    Everything hurt, but that hit the hardest.

 Chapter 30: The Puppet Master

    <h4>Chapter 30: The Puppet Master</h4>


    The sharp, sterile sting of antiseptic filled Eliana Bet¡¯s nose, dragging her back from the abyss like a hook through smoke. Consciousness returned slowly¡ªclumsily¡ªlike it had to fight its way through thick fog. Her eyelids fluttered against the weight of exhaustion, her vision swimming in a dizzy coge of white walls, blinking monitors, and the steady beep of machines that sounded far too close to a countdown.


    Pain hit next¡ªraw and unforgiving. A sharp throb pulsed in her ribs with every shallow breath, and her right hand felt like dead weight, tightly bound in stiff bandages. Shey still, her body aching in ces she hadn¡¯t known could ache, while above her, a harsh fluorescent light bathed everything in a clinical glow.


    Her lungs caught on a breath, her chest rising shakily as the memories mmed into her like she was reliving the ident.


    Screeching tires.


    Blinding headlights.


    The sickening crunch of metal.


    The pavement lunging up like a fist.


    Suddenly, a voice broke through the chaos of her mind.


    "Hello there?" Calm. Crisp. Professional.


    She blinked toward the sound, her gaze slowly sharpening on a man in a white coat. His nametag read Dr. Gary, and his expression held that perfect bnce of authority andpassion¡ªlike someone who¡¯d mastered the art of telling people how their world had just fallen apart.


    "You¡¯re awake," he said, relief in his tone. "You gave us quite a scare. Can you tell me your name, miss?"


    Eliana¡¯s throat felt like sandpaper soaked in fire. She tried to speak, but it came out as a dry rasp. Swallowing hurt more than it should have, sending a jolt of pain through her chest.


    "Eliana... Bet," she whispered, voice raw. "What... what happened?"


    Dr. Gary adjusted his sses and pulled a chair closer, his tone even but gentle. "You were struck by a car at an intersection. The impact fractured a few ribs and broke your right hand. But no internal bleeding, no concussion. You¡¯re stable. Lucky, Miss Bet. Very lucky."


    Lucky.


    The word echoed in her mind, cold and sharp.


    She turned her head slowly, her cheek brushing the stiff pillow. An IV dripped steadily into her arm, the tubing snaking down like a leash. The walls felt closer now¡ªtight and suffocating, like the whole room was closing in, inch by inch.


    "How long... do I have to stay here?" she asked, voice barely audible.


    "Just for the night," Dr. Gary replied, jotting something on his clipboard. "We¡¯ll monitor you to make sure there are noplications. If all goes well, you can be discharged tomorrow morning." He paused, his pen stilling as he looked at her, his expression shifting to one of professional detachment. "There¡¯s the matter of the hospital bill, however. You¡¯ll need to settle it before you¡¯re released. Do you have insurance, or... perhaps a guardian we can contact to help with the arrangements?"


    Eliana¡¯s heart sank, a cold weight settling in her chest. She stared at the ceiling, the fluorescent light blurring as tears pricked her eyes. Insurance? Money? She had neither. Her father, her only family, was wasting away in another hospital across town, his own bills a noose around her neck. She could almost hear his frail voice, telling her to keep going, to be strong, but how could she tell this doctor that she had no one? No one but a sick father who couldn¡¯t even get out of bed, let alone pay for her carelessness.


    "I... I don¡¯t have anyone," she admitted, her voice trembling. "Just... my dad, but he¡¯s... he¡¯s not well. He¡¯s in a hospital, too."


    Dr. Gray¡¯s brow furrowed, his empathy flickering back to life. "I see. I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Do you have any belongings with you? A phone, perhaps, to contact someone who could help?"


    Eliana¡¯s mind raced, her thoughts a tangled mess of pain and desperation. Her box¡ªher box that held her entire life¡ªher clothes, her dad¡¯s old watch, the few dors she had left. And her phone. If they¡¯d found those, maybe... maybe she could call him. The thought made her stomach churn, but what choice did she have? "My stuff," she said, her voice stronger now, fueled by a spark of resolve. "Did they... did they find my box? My phone? I was with a box and a phone when the ident happened."


    Dr. Gary nodded, turning to a nurse who hovered near the door, her scrubs a faded shade of blue. "Nurse Carter, could you check on Miss Bet¡¯s belongings? See if they were brought in from the ident site."


    The nurse, a wiry woman with a no-nonsense ponytail, gave a curt nod. "I¡¯ll be right back with them, Doctor." Her sneakers squeaked against the linoleum as she disappeared into the hallway.


    Dr. Gary offered Eliana a small, reassuring smile. "We¡¯ll get that sorted for you. I need to check on a few other patients, but Nurse Carter will bring your things if she finds them. Try to rest, alright?" He didn¡¯t wait for a response, his footsteps fading as he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.


    Eliana sank back against the pillow, her bandaged hand resting uselessly on herp. The silence was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. She was trapped¡ªtrapped by her injuries, her poverty, her promises to her father. And Rafael Vexley, that cold, calcting bastard, held all the strings.


    Minutes dragged by, each one heavier than thest, until the door swung open again. Nurse Carter wheeled in Eliana¡¯s battered box, its corners crushed, the decorative paints peeling like old skin. In her other hand, she held a cracked phone, its screen a spiderweb of fractures. "This is everything they brought in," the nurse said, her voice brisk but not unkind. She set the box beside the bed and handed Eliana the phone. "You¡¯re lucky this thing still works. Barely."


    Eliana¡¯s fingers trembled as she took the phone, the screen flickering as she swiped it on. The disy was a mess, but she could just make out the icons. Her heart pounded as she scrolled to James¡¯ number¡ªRafael¡¯s secretary, the only lifeline she had to the man who¡¯d turned her life into a chess game. She hesitated, dread pooling in her gut like poison. Calling James meant calling Rafael. It meant admitting she needed him. It meant sinking deeper into his debt, his control, his world.


    "Miss?" Nurse Carter¡¯s voice snapped her back. "You okay? Need help with that?"


    Eliana bit her lip, her eyes burning. "Could you... could you call this number for me?" She held out the phone, James¡¯ contact glowing faintly on the ruined screen. "Tell him... tell him I¡¯m in the hospital. That I need help with the bills. Please."


    The nurse¡¯s eyes softened, just for a moment, before she took the phone. "Alright, sweetheart. I¡¯ll make the call. You just lie back and try to rx." She scribbled the number on a notepad and headed for the door, her ponytail swinging as she left.


    Eliana sank into the bed, the tears she¡¯d fought so hard to hold back spilling down her cheeks. They burned, hot and silent, tracing paths across her skin. If Rafael paid her bills, she¡¯d be his¡ªmore than she already was. Every favor, every dor, was another chain around her wrists. She pictured his smug smirk, those steel-grey eyes that saw too much, even when they didn¡¯t. She had no other options. No money. No one else. Just him.


    She pressed her good hand to her face, muffling a sob. "Damn you, Rafael," she whispered. "Damn you for making me need you."


    <strong>*******</strong>


    Meanwhile, across the city, Rafael Vexleyy sprawled across his silk-sheeted bed, the vast bedroom cloaked in shadows. The fight with Mirabel still simmered in his veins, her venomous words echoing like a bad song. He¡¯d waited for Eliana¡ªtwo hours more after Mirabel had left, the empty driveway on his tablet mocking him. She¡¯d defied him, and that defiance stung more than he cared to admit. He¡¯d tossed the tablet aside, its screen dark, and stormed to bed, his anger a tight knot in his chest.


    His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen casting a cold blue glow across the room. He grabbed it, expecting another of Mirabel¡¯s pathetic attempts to rile him. Instead, it was a text from an unknown number, the words cutting through his haze of fury like a knife.


    <strong><i>"Is Eliana just like the others? Another gold-digger ying your game?"</i></strong>


    Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He could almost hear the sender¡¯s smug tone, his respected ally fishing for a reaction. He typed back, his words sharp and deliberate.


    <i>"Don¡¯t get cocky yet. Eliana¡¯s different¡ªsoft-hearted, naive, thinks she¡¯s noble. But she¡¯s still after the money, just like the rest. Watch me prove it. By tomorrow, she¡¯ll be begging for my help, and I¡¯ll have her right where I want her."</i>


    He hit send, the smirk fading as he tossed the phone onto the bed. The room felt too quiet, the weight of his own words pressing against him. Eliana was different¡ªhe¡¯d seen it in her eyes, that flicker of defiance, that quiet strength. But he couldn¡¯t afford to believe in her. Not yet. Not when everyone else had betrayed him.


    He switched off the phone, the screen going ck, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he¡¯d change his approach. Tomorrow, he¡¯d tighten the strings on his little puppet. Tomorrow, Eliana Bet would learn just how deep his control ran.

 Chapter 31: Groaning Walls

    <h4>Chapter 31: Groaning Walls</h4>


    Morning light slipped through the heavy curtains, spreading warm streaks across the room. It glowed on the polished floors, skimmed past tall bookshelves, and touched the edges of furniture too perfect to be touched. The air carried the scent of cedar and leather, with something colder beneath it¡ªlike power held too tightly.


    Rafael Vexleyy across his bed, sheets twisted around him. His dark, wavy hair was a mess, but his eyes were wide open, locked on the ceiling above him like it owed him something. Last night¡¯s anger hadn¡¯t left. It just curled tighter inside him, hot and sharp, waiting for a reason to explode.


    Eliana hadn¡¯te back.


    She was supposed to. He told her to. And yet, she didn¡¯t. That disobedience, that simple refusal, burned more than it should have.


    With a quiet breath, he swung his legs off the bed and sat up, every movement slow and controlled¡ªlike he was daring someone to watch him. He took in the room around him: the crystal chandelier above, the fine Persian rug under his feet, the tablet he¡¯d thrown across the room still lying face-down by the dresser.


    Even if he could see it all. Even if he could walk.


    He wore the whole paralysis thing like armor. No one was allowed to know¡ªnot his staff, not his friends, not even his family. Especially not his family. Letting them think he was weak gave him the upper hand. And Rafael never gave that up willingly.


    Not when people were circling like sharks.


    "ra!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to shake the walls. The door creaked open, and ra, shuffled in, her ck bun impable despite the early hour. Behind her trailed two maids, their starched uniforms rustling as they carried a tray of pressed suits and polished shoes.


    "Good morning, Mr. Vexley," ra said, her tone warm but professional, betraying none of the exhaustion of serving a man who demanded perfection. "Your navy Tom Ford suit today, or the charcoal Armani?"


    "Charcoal," Rafael muttered, his jaw tight. He stood, allowing the maids to fuss over him, their hands deftly buttoning his crisp white shirt, adjusting the silk tie, and slipping the tailored jacket over his broad shoulders. He despised the charade¡ªevery touch, every adjustment, a reminder of the lie he lived. But it was necessary. The world saw a blind, crippled billionaire, and that illusion kept him safe. For now.


    ra handed him his dark sses, her eyes flickering with something like pity before she masked it. "Will you be needing anything else before breakfast, sir?"


    "No," he said curtly, easing himself into the sleek, custom-built wheelchair that waited by the door. The maids stepped back, their heads bowed, as ra pushed him toward the hallway. The wheels glided silently over the marble floors, the mansion¡¯s grandeur unfolding around them¡ªcrystal sconces, gilded frames, a staircase that spiraled like a promise of power. Rafael¡¯s fingers drummed against the armrest, his mind still on Eliana. Where the hell is she? he thought, his lips twitching into a scowl. She¡¯ll learn to obey. They all do.


    The dining room was a cavern of elegance, its long mahogany table gleaming under a chandelier that dripped with crystals. Rafael expected to see James waiting with the morning reports, a cup of ck coffee steaming beside him. Instead, he found his father, Mr. Vexley Sr., standing at the head of the table, his silver hair glinting like a de. The older man¡¯s sharp features were twisted into a scowl, his tailored suit immacte but his posture rigid with barely contained fury.


    "Rafael," Vexley Sr. said, his voice low and dangerous, "why didn¡¯t youe to mest night? Your mother told you I wanted to see you."


    Rafael¡¯s lips curled into a cold, mockingugh, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. He leaned back in his wheelchair, his steel-grey eyes glinting with defiance he didn¡¯t bother to hide. "First of all, Father, Mirabel isn¡¯t my mother. She¡¯s your trophy wife, nothing more. Second, I¡¯m the one in this damn chair, remember? Blind and crippled." He gestured to himself with exaggerated flourish, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If you want to talk, youe to me. Not the other way around."


    Vexley Sr.¡¯s face reddened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his anger, the air crackling with tension. "You insolent¡ª" he began, but then he stopped, exhaling sharply through his nose. He straightened, smoothing his jacket as if brushing off Rafael¡¯s words. "Fine. Let¡¯s get to the point. I came to discuss your grandfather¡¯s estate."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the armrests until his knuckles whitened. He knew where this was going. He always did. "Go on," he said, his voice t, daring his father to continue.


    "Caleb," Vexley Sr. said, his tone softening as if he were discussing the weather. "Your stepbrother. He¡¯s struggling, Rafael. You have more than enough¡ªmorepanies, more properties than any one man needs. Your grandfather¡¯s estate... that eastern parcel, the one with the vineyards. Sign it over to Caleb. It¡¯s only fair."


    Rafael¡¯sugh was sharp, bitter, slicing through the room like a whip. "Fair?" he spat, leaning forward, his eyes zing despite the lie of their supposed cloudiness. "Let¡¯s talk about fair, Father. You wrote me out of your will because I was blind. Left everything to your precious children. But Grandfather? He saw through your bullshit. He left everything to me. And now you want me to hand over what¡¯s mine to Caleb? Not a chance. Not in this lifetime."


    Vexley Sr.¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing. "You¡¯re being selfish, Rafael. You¡ª"


    "Selfish?" Rafael interrupted, his voice rising, each word a dagger. "I¡¯m the one who lost everything¡ªmy sight, my mobility, my trust in this family. You think I¡¯ll just give away what I fought to keep? Dream on, old man."


    The door swung open, cutting through the tension like a guillotine. James stepped inside, his wiry frame dwarfed by the grandeur of the room. His sses glinted under the chandelier¡¯s light, and his face was pale, his usualposure frayed. "Mr. Vexley, I¡ªoh, I¡¯m so sorry," he stammered, bowing slightly to Vexley Sr. "I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt."


    Rafael¡¯s gaze snapped to James, his irritation tempered by curiosity. "What is it, James?" he asked, his tone sharp but not unkind. "Speak."


    James hesitated, ncing at Vexley Sr. before stepping closer to Rafael. He leaned down, his voice a hushed whisper against Rafael¡¯s ear. "It¡¯s Eliana, sir. She¡¯s been in an ident. She¡¯s in the hospital."


    Rafael¡¯s heart lurched, a jolt of something he refused to name¡ªfear, guilt, something softer¡ªflooding his chest. His fingers tightened on the armrests, his mind racing. Eliana. Hurt. The image of her honey-brown eyes, defiant yet vulnerable, shed before him, and for a moment, the room seemed to tilt.


    "Father," Rafael said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him, "something urgent hase up. We¡¯ll finish this another time." He didn¡¯t wait for a response, his hands already gripping the controls of his chair, propelling himself toward the door with a speed that belied his supposed frailty.


    "Rafael!" Vexley Sr. called after him, his voice a mix of anger and confusion. "Where are you going? We¡¯re not done here!"


    But Rafael didn¡¯t answer. The dining room, with its glittering chandelier and suffocating expectations, faded behind him as he rolled through the mansion¡¯s wide halls, ra hurrying to keep up. "James, get the car," he snapped, his voice low but urgent. "Now."


    James nodded, already pulling out his phone to alert the driver. They reached the front entrance, where Rafael¡¯s custom-modified Bentley waited, its sleek ck frame gleaming in the morning light. The ramp lowered with a soft hum, allowing Rafael to maneuver his wheelchair inside. James slid into the driver¡¯s seat, his hands steady despite the tension radiating from his employer.


    "Straight to the hospital," Rafael said, his voice clipped as he stared out the tinted window, his reflection a mask of cold determination. "And step on it."


    The car pulled away, gravel crunching under the tires, leaving Vexley Sr.¡¯s shouts fading in the distance. Rafael¡¯s mind was a whirlwind¡ªEliana, broken and alone in a hospital bed, her soft curls syed against a sterile pillow, her honey-brown eyes dimmed with pain. He clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into the leather armrests. She defied me, he thought, but the anger felt hollow now, overshadowed by something he couldn¡¯t name. Something dangerous.


    As the city blurred past, Rafael¡¯s thoughts spiraled. Eliana wasn¡¯t like the others¡ªhe¡¯d known it from the start, even if he¡¯d fought to deny it. Her quiet strength, her stubborn hope, had left a scratch on the walls he¡¯d built around himself. And now, with her life hanging in the bnce, he felt those walls groaning. He leaned back, closing his eyes, the hum of the engine a faint echo against the storm in his heart.

 Chapter 32: Worried Billionaire

    <h4>Chapter 32: Worried Billionaire</h4>


    Rafael Vexley¡¯s Bentley moved like a shadow through the city, quiet but impossible to ignore. Its engine rumbled low, steady, matching the storm brewing beneath Rafael Vexley¡¯s calm exterior. Inside, silence ruled. The kind that held weight. The kind that made you feel like something was about to snap.


    Rafael sat still, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his custom-built wheelchair. Leather creaked under his sharp suit. His eyes stared through the tinted window, catching shes of neon signs and strangers moving through the early morning like ghosts. The city was wide awake, butpletely unaware of the war going on inside him.


    Eliana.


    Her name echoed like a warning. A memory he didn¡¯t want but couldn¡¯t shake. Blood in her curls. Her body broken on the street. Eyes that used to shine with defiance, now dull with pain. He clenched his jaw. He couldn¡¯t afford to feel this. Not for her. Not for anyone.


    Worry meant weakness. And Rafael Vexley didn¡¯t do weak.


    He wasn¡¯t built for feelings. Not anymore. He¡¯d buried that part of himself many years ago, right alongside the people who taught him to survive by never letting anyone in.


    But then the hospital came into view, all cold ss and hard edges, towering like it knew things about him he hadn¡¯t said out loud.


    And suddenly, his heart beat just a little too loud. Too fast. Too human.


    Damn it.


    The Bentley¡¯s tires screeched as it pulled into the hospital¡¯s circr drive, the sleek ck beast drawing every eye in the vicinity. Rafael Vexley¡¯s presence was a storm cloud breaking over the modestmunity hospital, a ce of chipped linoleum floors and overworked staff, far removed from the gleaming private facilities he was known to frequent. The morning sun glinted off the car¡¯s tinted windows, hiding the man inside¡ªa man whose heart pounded with a worry he refused to name, even as it wed at his chest.


    James leapt out, his wiry frame moving with practiced efficiency as he lowered the ramp for Rafael¡¯s wheelchair. The hospital¡¯s automatic doors hissed open, and Rafael rolled forward, his jaw set, his grey eyes¡ªsharp and seeing¡ªscanning the lobby. The air was heavy with antiseptic and hushed murmurs, and as Rafael entered, the room seemed to hold its breath.


    Nurses froze mid-step, charts clutched to their chests. Patients in faded gowns craned their necks from waiting room chairs, their whispers rippling like wind through grass. "Is that Rafael Vexley?" one elderly woman muttered, her eyes wide behind thick sses. "The billionaire? Here?" A younger nurse, her scrubs patterned with cartoon kittens, leaned toward her colleague. "Why¡¯s he at this hospital? He could buy the whole ce and burn it down for fun." Her friend shushed her, but her gaze lingered on Rafael, equal parts awe and fear.


    Rafael felt their stares, their curiosity prickling his skin like static. He kept his expression cold, unreadable, letting them believe in the myth of the blind, crippled tycoon. But he saw everything¡ªthe way a doctor adjusted his tie nervously, the way a teenage patient snapped a sneaky photo with her phone. He saw, and he hated it. Hated the spectacle, hated the vulnerability of being here, hated the gnawing dread that had driven him to this ce. <i>Eliana</i>. Her name was a pulse in his veins, a rhythm he couldn¡¯t silence.


    James walked a step behind, his sses glinting under the fluorescent lights, his face a mask of professional calm. But his eyes darted to Rafael, noting the tension in his employer¡¯s shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the armrests of his chair. "Sir, Miss Bet is in Room 214," James said softly, guiding them toward the elevator.


    Rafael gave a curt nod, his mind elsewhere. <i>What would you say now? </i>he thought, addressing the secret friend who haunted his thoughts¡ªa figure known only to him, their cryptic messages a lifeline in his shadowed world. <i>Would youugh at me for rushing here? Tell me I¡¯m a fool for caring? </i>The friend¡¯stest text, received justst night, burned in his memory<i>: "Is Eliana just like the others? Another gold-digger ying your game?"</i> Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened. A flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips¡ªdry, bitter, and more armor than amusement.


    The elevator dinged, and they stepped into a hallway buzzing with activity. Nurses parted like the Red Sea as Rafael approached, their whispers trailing him like smoke. "He¡¯s here for someone?" a male orderly muttered to a janitor. "Must be serious. Vexley doesn¡¯t slum it." Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened. <i>Slum it. </i>The words stung, not for himself, but for her. Eliana, lying in a bed in this underfunded hospital, because of him.


    At Room 214, James knocked softly before pushing the door open. The room was small, the walls a faded mint green, the air heavy with the scent of iodine. Eliana Bety propped against pillows, her honey-brown eyes wide with shock as Rafael rolled in, James at his side. Her curly ck hair was a tangled halo, her warm skin paler than usual, a bandage taped across her left forearm. Her hospital gown, toorge, slipped off one shoulder, revealing the delicate curve of her corbone. She looked fragile, yet her gaze held a spark of defiance that made Rafael¡¯s chest tighten.


    "Mr. Vexley?" Eliana¡¯s voice was hoarse, disbelieving. She sat up straighter, wincing slightly, her full lips parting in surprise. "What are you doing here?"


    Rafael¡¯s eyes narrowed, his tone sharp as a de. "What am I doing here? What were you doing, Miss Bet, wandering the streets like a stray at midnight? You didn¡¯t see the caring? Were you too busy daydreaming to watch where you were going?" His words were a whip, but beneath them, his heart thundered. <i>You could have died</i>, he thought, the image of her broken body shing unbidden in his mind.


    Eliana¡¯s eyes shed, her shock giving way to indignation. She crossed her arms, ignoring the tug of the IV line and the pain on the right hand. "Excuse me? You¡¯re the one who ordered me to pack my life and move to your house that night. I was rushing because of <i>you</i>. If I hadn¡¯t left sote, I wouldn¡¯t be here!" Her voice rose, not loud, but firm, each word a pebble flung at his armor. She wasn¡¯t timid, wasn¡¯t cowed by his wealth or his reputation. And that, Rafael realized with a jolt, was dangerous.


    James, standing by the door, blinked rapidly, his mouth slightly agape. He¡¯d seen CEOs quiver under Rafael¡¯s blind re, yet here was this young woman, barely 24, trading barbs with him like an equal. <i>Who is she really?</i> James wondered, his curiosity deepening. <i>And why isn¡¯t he shutting her down? </i>Rafael¡¯s usual temper, a wildfire that consumed any defiance, was absent. Instead, his eyes held something James couldn¡¯t name¡ªsomething almost... human.


    "Ordered you?" Rafael scoffed, leaning forward, his voice low and mocking. "I don¡¯t recall putting a gun to your head, Miss Bet. You chose to work for me. You chose to follow my instructions. Don¡¯t me me for your carelessness." But his words felt hollow, his guilt a stone in his gut. He¡¯d pushed her, demanded her presence, and now shey here, bruised and battered. My fault, a voice whispered, one he silenced with a clench of his jaw.


    Eliana rolled her eyes, a gesture so brazen it startled a chokedugh from James, quickly smothered. "Carelessness?" she shot back. "I was crossing at a green light. The driver was probably drunk. But sure, let¡¯s make this my fault." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but her eyes held a flicker of hurt, quickly masked. She leaned back, her gaze steady. "And don¡¯t think I¡¯m scared of you, Mr. Vexley. I¡¯m not."


    Rafael¡¯s lips twitched, a spark of something¡ªamusement, respect?¡ªshing in his eyes before he buried it. "Scared or not, you¡¯re still in my employ. This little stunt won¡¯t excuse you from your duties." He gestured to the bed, his voice cold but his heart racing. <i>Get up. Be okay. Please.</i>


    Before Eliana could retort, the door swung open, and a harried doctor entered, his white coat wrinkled, his eyes widening at the sight of Rafael. "Mr. Vexley, sir," he stammered, bowing slightly. "An honor. Miss Bet is stable¡ªminor contusions, a sprained wrist. She¡¯s free to go." He nced at Eliana, then back at Rafael, clearly unsure who held the reins.


    Rafael nodded curtly. "James, handle the bills. Anything the hospital needs, see to it." He turned to Eliana, his tone brisk. "Stop lounging like an invalid, Miss Bet. We¡¯re leaving."


    Eliana groaned, swinging her legs over the bed¡¯s edge, her movements slow but deliberate. "I never said I wasn¡¯t working," she muttered, her eyes narrowing. "But let¡¯s be clear¡ªI¡¯m paying you back. Every penny you¡¯re covering here, I¡¯ll return." Her voice was fierce, her pride a me that warmed the sterile room.


    Rafael raised an eyebrow, his mask of indifference cracking just enough for James to notice. "We¡¯ll see about that," he said, his voice softer than he intended. He rolled toward the door, pausing to nce back at her. <i>Stubborn girl,</i> he thought, a strange warmth curling in his chest. <i>What are you doing to me?</i>


    As they left the room, the hospital¡¯s whispers followed, a chorus of awe and spection. Eliana, leaning on James for support, felt Rafael¡¯s presence like a shadow¡ªcold,manding, yet inexplicably protective. And somewhere, in the recesses of Rafael¡¯s mind, his secret friend¡¯s voice echoed<i>: "She¡¯s got you, Rafi. And you don¡¯t even see it."</i>

 Chapter 33: Distracted

    <h4>Chapter 33: Distracted</h4>


    The hospital corridor thrummed with tension¡ªa 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¡ªin¡ªand 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¡ªbecause 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¡ªan 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¡ªhere 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¡ª"


    "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¡ªquiet, 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¡ªthrough hospital visits, business deals, and secret investigations¡ªhad 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¡ªoh 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¡ªsleek 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¡ªand 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¡ªthis... 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¡ª? I mean, I¡¯m just¡ª"


    "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¡ªa habit from working too long with rich people, Eliana guessed¡ªbefore 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%¡ªsir? 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¡ª"


    "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¡ªit 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¡ªabout 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¡ªno."


    "Don¡¯t be ridiculous¡ª"


    "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¡ªwell Rafael didn¡¯t stare tantly. He looked at the general direction his father¡¯s voice wasing from


    ¡ªFinally, 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¡ªhis secret friend¡¯s¡ªwhispered, <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¡ªand it terrified him.

 Chapter 34: Free Fall

    <h4>Chapter 34: Free Fall</h4>


    The gravel crunched beneath the tires of the sleek ck Bentley as it pulled into the circr drive,ing to a stop with the elegance of something practiced a thousand times. The Vexley mansion stood before them¡ªmassive and unyielding, its stone facade catching the golden hues of thete afternoon sun like a castle pulled straight from some forgotten century. It didn¡¯t just loom¡ªit dared you to question who lived inside.


    Rafael Vexley sat poised in the back seat, his broad shoulders square and still, a picture of unshakable control. He didn¡¯t move until James, ever dutiful, swung the door open. Then, with effortless precision, Rafael shifted forward, guiding his sleek carbon-fiber wheelchair down the built-in ramp. Despite the chair, there was nothing frail about his movements. If anything, they were smoother than most men on two legs¡ªquiet, deliberate,manding.


    The faint whir of the wheels melded with the background hum of cicadas and the soft rustle of wind through the high hedges. James walked beside him, alert, his hands never far from the chair. He didn¡¯t say much¡ªhe never did¡ªbut even he shifted a little when Rafael paused to study the entrance. Behind his dark sunsses, Rafael¡¯s gaze was unreadable, but it carried weight. The kind that made people nervous for reasons they couldn¡¯t exin.


    At the top of the stairs, the heavy oak doors opened without a knock. ra stood framed in the doorway, dressed in her usual spotless uniform, not a pleat out of ce. The Vexley family pin glinted at her cor like a badge of honor, silver catching the chandelier¡¯s subtle glow as it lit up the foyer behind her.


    Her posture was straight-backed,posed. But the moment she saw Rafael, her face softened. It always did. A warm smile broke across her features, chasing away the sharpness of the mansion¡¯s grandeur.


    "Mr. Vexley," she said with a gracious nod, her voice calm and melodic. "Wee home. I trust your day was... productive?"


    Rafael¡¯s lips twitched into something that hovered on the edge of amusement¡ªhalf a smile, half a warning. "Productive enough, ra."


    There was something different in his tone¡ªstill crisp, still cold at the edges, but with a thread of warmth quietly stitched into it. Like something had shifted. Like someone had softened him.


    He adjusted his sunsses and tilted his head just slightly, eyes locked on her though she couldn¡¯t see them. "Where¡¯s Eliana?"


    At the mention of the name, ra¡¯s smile faltered¡ªnot in displeasure, but in concern. Her hands instinctively smoothed down the front of her apron, a tiny tell he noticed but didn¡¯t mention.


    "She¡¯s in the guest room you asked for, sir," ra replied. "The one beside yours. She¡¯s resting now. Poor thing looked absolutely worn out when she arrived¡ªbarely standing, if I¡¯m honest. And with that sling on her arm..."


    She hesitated, brow pinching as her voice softened. "She didn¡¯t say much. Just thanked me and went straight to bed. I think the trip took a toll."


    Rafael was quiet for a long second. A stillness settled over him, deep and unreadable. Then, without a word, he nodded once.


    ra nced at James, then back at Rafael, as if debating whether to say more. But she knew him well. Whatever questions she had, she tucked them away like she always did.


    "I¡¯ll have a light dinner sent to her room," she offered. "Something warm and easy. And tea. She looked like she neededfort more than food."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw locked tight, the sharp line of tension etched beneath his chiseled cheekbone twitching ever so slightly. It was subtle¡ªbut unmistakable. The kind of tell only someone who¡¯d spent years learning to appear unshaken would still have.


    "Good," he said, voice low and rough like gravel under pressure. "That¡¯s... good." The words didn¡¯t carry relief, not really. More like control¡ªlike a man trying to convince himself of something. Or bury something that didn¡¯t want to stay buried.


    Beside him, James stood motionless, his face carved in stone¡ªstoic and unreadable as always. But Rafael turned to him anyway, not with gratitude, not with warmth¡ªjust withmand.


    "James," he said evenly, "you¡¯re dismissed. For now."


    James¡¯s brow lifted just slightly. A flicker of curiosity passed between them, quiet and restrained¡ªbut then, just as quickly, it was gone. He gave a sharp, respectful nod. "Of course, sir."


    Without another word, James pivoted and strode down the corridor, the steady thud of his boots fading into the mansion¡¯s silence. He didn¡¯t need to be told twice. Whatever this moment was, it belonged to Rafael alone.


    Now alone, Rafael sat still for a heartbeat, hands resting on the wheels of his chair. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose and pushed forward, the quiet hum of his movement filling the vast marble corridor like a whisper of intent.


    He didn¡¯t need to think about where he was going.


    Every turn, every door, every subtle shift in temperature in the hallway was branded into his memory. The long hall curved like a spine toward the north wing¡ªtoward the guest room he¡¯d personally selected. The one directly beside his own.


    The one where Eliana was.


    He stopped in front of the door¡ªa tall, imposing thing of dark polished wood with intricate carvings that caught the low light. His heart, always so damned controlled, gave a quiet, unwanted thud against his ribs. It annoyed him. But it also... intrigued him.


    He raised a fist and knocked.


    Once.


    Twice.


    Nothing.


    The silence pressed in around him, more noticeable now. Too noticeable.


    His brow furrowed. She hadn¡¯t stirred. No shuffling. No reply. No muttered e in" through the door.


    A flicker of unease slid into his chest, unwee and unfamiliar. He wasn¡¯t used to concern sneaking up on him, let alone for someone who had only just stepped into his world. And yet, here it was¡ªwing quietly at hisposure.


    Rafael reached for the handle, his fingers brushing the cool brass. The metal felt colder than usual. Maybe it was just him.


    He turned it.


    Softly.


    Thetch gave with a gentle click, and the door creaked open¡ªslow and smooth, like the house itself was holding its breath.


    He lingered in the doorway, taking in the room.


    Muted sunlight filtered in through sheer curtains, bathing everything in gold. A small teacup sat untouched on the side table, steam long faded. One of the armchairs near the window had a nket draped over it like someone had wrapped themselves in it briefly, then tossed it aside.


    But Rafael saw only one thing.


    Eliana.


    Shey curled beneath soft linen sheets, her form small, almost delicate, as if the bed itself had been holding her gently all this time. Her long, curly ck hair spilled across the pillow like a cascade of midnight ink, framing the smooth angles of her face. Her skin glowed in the filtered light, warm and alive. Her eyes¡ªusually sharp, defiant¡ªwere hidden now, peacefully closed. Lips slightly parted, she breathed in a rhythm that slowed the world itself.


    Even the awkward sling draped across her chest couldn¡¯t diminish the picture she made. If anything, it made her seem even more human. Breakable. Real.


    Rafael rolled closer, wheels silent against the thick carpet. He stopped just beside the bed, drawn to her in a way that made no logical sense, yet felt entirely inevitable. His breath caught. For someone who¡¯d learned to steel himself against emotion, this¡ªthis¡ªfelt like free fall.


    His eyes traced her every detail¡ªthe gentle rise and fall of her chest, the faint flush in her cheeks, the way hershes cast shadows like tiny whispers on her skin. There was strength in her, yes. He¡¯d seen it. But there was softness, too. A quiet kind of grace that rattled something deep inside him. A man like Rafael Vexley didn¡¯t feel easily, didn¡¯t care without consequence.


    And yet, here she was.


    For almost half an hour, he didn¡¯t move.


    He simply watched her, the way a soldier watches a sunrise after too many nights at war¡ªtentative, grateful, disarmed. Everything outside of that room¡ªthe empire, the board meetings, the bitter power ys, even Caleb¡ªdisappeared into static.


    There was only Eliana.


    And the unfamiliar warmth bleeding into his chest like a wound he didn¡¯t know how to tend.


    He muttered under his breath, barely audible. "Get a grip, Rafi."


    The words sounded foreign, like they belonged to someone else. Someone younger. Softer.


    With a rough breath, he rolled back. His fingers hovered over the door handle onest time. Then he turned, slipping silently out of the room and shutting the door behind him with care.


    The scent of lemon zest and roasted herbs weed him into the dining room, where ra waited as if she¡¯d timed his return to the second. She stood beside the table, a tray of food arranged with her signature precision: seared salmon with a lemon-herb ze, crisp roasted asparagus, and a perfectly chilled ss of white wine. The table was set for one¡ªelegant, untouched, waiting.


    "You must be starving, sir," ra said gently, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Can¡¯t have you running yourself into the ground."


    Rafael gave a weary half-smile as he rolled to the table. "You¡¯re too good to me, ra."


    She smirked, brushing a loose strand of back-streaked hair behind her ear. "Someone has to keep you alive, Mr. Vexley."


    Before Rafael could lift his fork, the door burst open.


    Not gently.


    Not politely.


    With ir.


    Caleb Vexley swaggered into the room like a storm with a stylist. His designer sneakers squeaked against the marble floor, and his expensive jacket hung off one shoulder like he¡¯d just walked off a runway shoot. His golden blond hair was tousled in a way that had taken a stylist an hour to perfect, but the glint in his eyes was anything but pretty.


    "Rafael," he drawled, dragging the name out with venom-coated boredom, "why do you always have to be so difficult?"


    Rafael didn¡¯t flinch. He didn¡¯t even blink. Just set his fork down slowly, with the precision of a man who had mastered the art of patience¡ªand violence.


    "Excuse me?" he said, voice like ice.


    Caleb leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, expression smug. "You heard me. You act like this empire was handcrafted for you alone. Grandfather didn¡¯t build this empire just for you, Rafael."


    Rafael¡¯s eyes narrowed behind his sses. He took a beat¡ªthen another. And then: "Caleb," he said coolly, "get out of my wing. Now. Or I swear to you, I will have you physically removed from this house¡ªpermanently."


    Caleb¡¯s smile faltered, just for a moment.


    But then it returned¡ªtighter, meaner. "You think this ends with you sitting in that chair ying king of the castle? You¡¯re just the ceholder. One way or another, I will get what¡¯s mine. Grandfather¡¯s legacy isn¡¯t your personal inheritance."


    Rafael leaned forward slowly, his voice dropping to a growl. "As a matter of fact it is. Try me, Caleb. Try your mother¡¯s games. Try thewyers. Try whatever cowardly backdoor you¡¯re slithering through. But I promise you¡ªyou won¡¯t like what you find on the other side."


    For one electric second, the room crackled with silent rage.


    Caleb¡¯s jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides¡ªbut he said nothing more. He turned, stormed out, and mmed the door behind him.


    The silence left in his wake was deafening.


    Rafael stared down at his te, untouched. The scent of lemon and salmon, once appetizing, now soured in his throat. He pushed it away with a sharp clink of porcin on wood.


    "ra," he said tly, not looking up, "I¡¯m done here."


    She didn¡¯t ask questions. She never did. But the worry in her eyes was in.


    "Shall I clear it, sir?"


    He gave a quiet nod and turned toward the corridor.


    Back in his private quarters, the polished surface of calm shattered.


    The room was stripped of decoration, all clean lines and cool shadows. Dark wood paneling, a sleek desk, a worn leather chair by the window¡ªfunctional, intentional. But even the silence here offered no peace.


    He gripped the arms of his wheelchair¡ªand stood.


    Strong. Steady. Not broken. Never broken.


    With a sharp breath, he yanked the dark sses from his face and hurled them across the room. They struck the wall with a violent crash, exploding into glittering shards. ss scattered across the floor like fractured stars.


    He didn¡¯t stop to watch them fall.


    He paced.


    Every breath jagged. Every step thunder beneath the quiet.


    Memories crashed through him¡ªuninvited, unwanted. Faces. Voices. Warnings. Promises broken.


    He clenched his fists.


    Not here. Not now. Not again.


    <i>To be continued...</i>

 Chapter 35: The Taste of Betrayal

    <h4>Chapter 35: The Taste of Betrayal</h4>


    <strong>FLASHBACK </strong>


    In the vast, echoing silence of the Vexley estate¡¯s grandest bedroom, nine-year-old Rafael twisted beneath the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets. The room, with all its antique splendor and velvet drapery, felt less like home and more like a forgotten stage¡ªtoo big, too cold, too quiet.


    His dreams had been sharp and brutal: the screech of tires, the metallic crunch of impact, his mother¡¯s voice rising¡ªthen snapping¡ªinto silence. He jolted awake, breath hitching, chest heaving. But the world he woke to didn¡¯t feel right.


    It wasn¡¯t just night.


    It was void.


    A thick, sightless ckness that wrapped around him like tar, swallowing every corner of light. No shapes. No shadows. Just a suffocating absence. One month since the ident, and still¡ªno color, no dawn, no escape.


    "Mommy?" His voice wavered, a broken whisper in the vast dark. It barely rose above the stillness. "Mommy, where are you?"


    Nothing answered. Not even the creak of furniture.


    "Daddy?" he tried again, louder this time. "Daddy, I¡¯m scared!"


    Still, silence. Cruel and heavy, pressing against his ribs. It sat on his chest like a stone, pulling him deeper into the mattress.


    With a trembling breath, Rafael curled into himself. Tiny fingers clenched the sheets. His knees tucked up. His throat tightened. And then¡ªhe cried.


    It wasn¡¯t the quiet sobs of a child holding back. These were open, raw, helpless sobs that filled the hollow corners of the room. His voice cracked with every call that went unanswered. Tears soaked into his pillow, hot and constant. His cries echoed off the carved ceilings and grand oil paintings that couldn¡¯t care less. The darkness didn¡¯t flinch.


    Minutes blurred into hours. His tiny frame shook until he had no strength left to cry.


    Then¡ª


    In silence, a creak sound filled the room. The soft groan of old hinges filtered into his ears.


    "Rafael?"


    Footsteps came next. Fast, familiar. The faint scent of tobo and worn wool drifted in likefort on air. A warm presence sank into the bed beside him. Strong arms wrapped around his small body.


    "Oh, my sweet boy... what¡¯s wrong?"


    It was his Grandfather. His voice was rough¡ªhoarse from sleep, butyered with tenderness that made Rafael sob harder. He buried his face into the man¡¯s chest, clutching fistfuls of his cardigan like they were thest solid thing in the world.


    "I can¡¯t see," Rafael whispered, voice muffled, trembling. "It¡¯s so dark. Mommy didn¡¯te... Daddy didn¡¯te..."


    "Why didn¡¯t theye?"


    The old man went still. For a second, just one heartbeat-long pause, everything in him tensed. Then he breathed in, slow and heavy, and pulled Rafael tighter.


    "Oh, my boy," he murmured, running a hand gently through the child¡¯s curls. "I¡¯m here now. I¡¯ve got you."


    His voice shook. He tried to make it sound strong, to sound sure, but something deeper slipped through¡ªsomething cracked and aching.


    Rafael didn¡¯t catch it. Couldn¡¯t. He was too small, too broken by the ckness to hear the sorrow hiding in his grandfather¡¯s breath.


    But the old man¡¯s eyes shimmered, ssy under the weight of what he couldn¡¯t say.


    And as he held the boy tighter, rocking him gently in the dark, he whispered a promise he wished could be enough.


    "You¡¯re not alone, Rafael. Not while I¡¯m still breathing."


    But even that vow sat heavy in the air¡ªbecause sometimes, even the strongest love couldn¡¯t chase away a darkness like this.


    Not when it came from within.


    Morning came, pouring sunlight through the towering windows of the Vexley estate like liquid gold¡ªbut it brought no warmth. Not to the cold marble floors, not to the cavernous halls, and certainly not to the boy sitting motionless on the edge of his bed.


    Rafael¡¯s small fingers traced the grooves of the carved bedpost, memorized from years of habit. Though his eyes could no longer show him the world, his mind drew a map of the room: the soft, thick rug beneath his bare feet... the rustle of the heavy drapes when a breeze slipped in through the cracks... the scent of polished wood andvender from the maid¡¯s morning routine.


    But something else intruded on the silence.


    Raised voices.


    Sharp. Angry. Cracking through the stillness like thunder splitting a cloudless sky.


    "You left her, Charles!" That was Grandfather¡ªhis voice volcanic with rage, every syble scorching. "You left your wife for that woman, and now she¡¯s gone¡ªgone because of your cowardice!"


    Rafael stiffened. The words sliced through him, sudden and terrifying. He slid off the bed, feet sinking into the rug, and crept toward the hallway, the way a shadow might move¡ªsilent, uncertain.


    The study door was cracked open. He pressed his back against the cold wall, his breath barely daring to exist.


    "Don¡¯t you dare lecture me, Father," came the cutting voice of his father¡ªCharles Vexley. Calm. Cold. Ice against fire. "Eleanor¡¯s death was an ident. I didn¡¯t cause it."


    There was a pause, then a bitterugh¡ªdry and dangerous.


    "An ident?" Grandfather¡¯s voice dripped with disgust. "You broke her long before the crash. You were parading around with Mirabel while Eleanor¡ªyour wife¡ªwas wasting away from heartbreak. And now, you¡¯re doing the same to your son? He¡¯s blind, Charles! Blind and alone, and you¡¯ve left him to drown in the dark!"


    Rafael flinched. The words struck like fists.


    Blind.


    Alone.


    Abandoned.


    He clutched his chest, his breathing shallow. A sound almost escaped him, but he covered his mouth with trembling fingers.


    Dead?


    Mommy was... dead?


    The word shattered something inside him. A cold pain exploded in his chest.


    No. That couldn¡¯t be. She had toe back. She promised.


    "I¡¯m giving him a new mother," his father said¡ªtoo casually, like it was a solution you could gift-wrap. "Mirabel will¡ª"


    "Mirabel?" Grandfather exploded. "That leech? That vulture? That snake in rags? She wouldn¡¯t even spit on that boy if he were on fire¡ªunless you paid her to!"


    "I¡¯m done exining myself to you."


    "You¡¯re not fit to raise a son!"


    The voices faded, tangled in fury and mmed doors, but Rafael didn¡¯t wait to hear the rest. He stumbled away, barely noticing the turn of the hall, the soft brush of curtains against his arms.


    The world spun sideways beneath his feet. The ground no longer felt steady.


    Dead.


    Mommy was dead.


    Daddy didn¡¯t want him.


    He reached his room, copsed onto the floor beside the bed, and curled into himself like the night before¡ªbut this time it wasn¡¯t just fear that gripped him.


    It was grief.


    Heavy. Consuming.


    And the darkness wasn¡¯t just in his eyes anymore.


    It was in everything.


    It was everywhere.


    <strong>*******</strong>


    Three months after that devastating argument, the Vexley estate hosted a wedding.


    Not a joyful one. Not one filled withughter or light.


    Charles Vexley married Mirabel beneath a canopy of crystal chandeliers and polished smiles, while Rafael stood off to the side¡ªsmall, silent, blind. He didn¡¯t cry. He didn¡¯t speak. He simply listened to the apuse and the vows that meant nothing to him, while the ghost of his mother drifted further from memory.


    Time slipped by. Days bled into months, months into years¡ªand every one of them darker than thest.


    Grandfather was the only light that pierced the void. The only one who stayed. He read to Rafael in his gruff, calming voice. Taught him how to navigate without sight¡ªby sound, by touch, by instinct. He taught him how to survive.


    But even Grandfather couldn¡¯t stop time. His body was failing, stretched thin by business, age, and the burden of protecting a child no one else wanted.


    Nannies rotated in and out like clockwork. Their hands were careful but cold, their voices always too loud or too fake. Rafael learned early how to perform¡ªhow to smile, how to say "thank you" without meaning it. He learned how to tuck his pain behind his teeth and swallow the ache like medicine.


    But every night, when the lights went out, the darkness pressed against him like it wanted to consume what little was left.


    At eleven, Mirabel¡¯s voice became a constant venom in the house. She slithered into every room with her cloying perfume and sharp words wrapped in sweetness.


    "He¡¯s an embarrassment, Charles," Rafael heard her say one evening.


    He was hidden behind the slightly open dining room door, holding his breath as her words floated like poison smoke.


    "A blind boy stumbling around like a lost dog? What will people think? He¡¯s not our future¡ªhe¡¯s a liability. He needs to go. Somewhere far. Somewhere he won¡¯t ruin everything."


    Silence followed. Then his father¡¯s voice finally came¡ªt and emotionless.


    "You¡¯re right, my love. A boarding school. Somewhere... specialized."


    Rafael didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t cry. But his heart copsed in on itself like ash.


    Weekster, he was gone.


    The school smelled of sweat, old books, and cruelty. Rafael¡¯s cane was stolen on his second day. Boys shoved him in the halls, whispered "Blind freak" behind his back¡ªsometimes to his face. He said nothing. He learned to walk bruised and silent, swallowing the humiliation like ss.


    But then, like a phantom wrapped in twilight, Grandfather began to visit.


    Never announced. Never caught.


    Just a warm hand on Rafael¡¯s shoulder at dusk, and the rumble of his voice: "You¡¯re stronger than they know, my boy. And I¡¯ll always protect you. Always."


    At thirteen, Rafael returned home. Grandfather had fought tooth and nail to bring him back, ignoring Mirabel¡¯s venomous protests and Charles¡¯s indifference.


    But the Vexley estate was no longer a home¡ªit was a battlefield dressed in silk and chandeliers.


    One night, when the house was still and shadows stretched long across the floor, young Rafael curled behind an oversized armchair in the living room. He hadn¡¯t meant to eavesdrop¡ªhe¡¯d only wandered in looking for his nanny, barefoot and sleepy-eyed. But what he heard rooted him to the spot.


    His father¡¯s voice drifted through the half-open study door, low and secretive. Rafael didn¡¯t need eyes to know that tone¡ªit always meant something was being hidden.


    "The properties will go to Mirabel, Caleb, and Celina," Charles Vexley said, his voice clipped and confident. "They¡¯re the future of this family."


    That was it. No hesitation. No pause. No Rafael.


    He wasn¡¯t mentioned. Not once.


    The words mmed into Rafael like a punch. He curled tighter behind the chair, his tiny fingers digging into the carpet, tears sliding down his cheeks, unseen by the world¡ªbut felt like fire against his skin. The darkness felt cruel and suffocating. Cold arms of silence wrapped around him, and he feltpletely and truly invisible.


    Hourster, his grandfather found him in bed, face buried in a pillow soaked with tears. The old man sat beside him, his voice firm yet filled with worry.


    "What is it, Rafael? What¡¯s wrong?"


    "They don¡¯t want me," Rafael whispered, voice cracking. "I heard him, Grandpa. Dad¡¯s giving everything to Mirabel and her children. I don¡¯t matter. I¡¯m not... I¡¯m not one of them."


    There was a long pause. Then a deep inhale. The weight of Grandfather¡¯s rage didn¡¯te out in shouts, but in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes burned. Yet when he reached out, his touch was all warmth.


    "Listen to me," he said, his voice suddenly fierce and trembling with emotion. "You are everything. You are my grandson. My legacy. My blood. And I swear to you¡ªI will protect you with everything I have."


    And he did.


    Not long after, Grandfather rewrote his will¡ªtore the old one apart and made Rafael the sole heir to the Vexley fortune. The announcement sent shockwaves through the family like an earthquake splitting the foundations of a ss house.


    Overnight, Mirabel¡¯s sharine smiles were pasted on like cheap makeup. She began offering Rafael sweets wrapped in shiny foil andpliments that tasted like vinegar. His father started making surprise visits to his room, his voice suddenly full of fatherly affection that Rafael had never heard before.


    "We¡¯re a family now, son," Charles said one night, cing a hand on Rafael¡¯s shoulder.


    But Rafael knew better. His father¡¯s warmth wasn¡¯t real¡ªit was the heat of a me hiding the burn.


    Then came the tea. That made Rafael understand the extent of their hate for him.


    That night, a soft knock came through Rafael bedroom door. Mirabel¡¯s voice purring into the room. " I made you tea. Just some chamomile, sweetheart. It¡¯ll help you sleep."


    Rafael had taken one sip just to be polite. Just one sip.


    Barely five minutester, his throat burned. His chest seized. He copsed, gasping for air, the shadows twisting around him even in his pitch-ck sightlessness. The darkness didn¡¯t swallow him this time¡ªit shoved him into a deeper abyss.


    He woke up in the hospital two dayster, barely alive.


    Grandfather sat by his bed, stone-faced, hands trembling with fury.


    "Don¡¯t ever eat or drink anything she gives you again, do you hear me Rafael?" he said, voice like steel beneath ice. "Unfortunately I¡¯ve got no prove but Mirabel wants you dead, Rafael. Because now... you¡¯re the heir."


    That was the night Rafael learned the taste of betrayal. It was bitter. Poisonous. He learned to listen not just with ears, but with instinct. To feel the tension in a voice, the change in the air when someone entered a room. To read the world without sight. To survive.


    By the time he turned twenty, Grandfather was gone¡ªand Rafael inherited everything.


    The wealth. The empire. The legacy. And a mountain of enemies.


    Mirabel¡¯s fury was volcanic. Her voice rose like sirens as she screamed at Charles, her carefully painted mask cracking.


    "You let this happen! He took everything from us!"


    Charles stood silent. Beaten. Small.


    Rafael, no longer the child hiding behind chairs, stood tall, unflinching. He had been shaped by pain, trained by silence, and sharpened by betrayal. Grandfather had taught him what power looked like¡ªand how to wield it.


    Now, the memory slipped away like smoke in the wind.


    Rafael blinked, pulling himself back into the now¡ªinto the cold calm of his private quarters. His ssesy shattered on the floor. Silence reigned. No voices. No footsteps. Just the low hum of tension, always present.


    He rose to his feet, slow but sure. His once-blind eyes, now steel-grey and sharp as cut ss, scanned the room with steady focus.


    He wasn¡¯t blind anymore. And he definitely wasn¡¯t helpless.


    But the sting of betrayal?


    That never faded.

 Chapter 36: Only Mine

    <h4>Chapter 36: Only Mine</h4>


    The city below burned with light¡ªskyscrapers lit like constetions, traffic crawling like veins of molten gold. But from where Jason Asher sat, high above it all in his penthouse, it felt like watching a party he hadn¡¯t been invited to. His apartment¡ªa sprawling monument to wealth¡ªwas all sharp lines and cold beauty: marble floors polished to perfection, ck leather couches barely touched, and a bar lined with rare liquors older than his trust fund. The kind of ce people posted on social media with captions like "Living the dream." But tonight? It felt more like a very expensive prison cell.


    Jason slumped into the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, the other clenched around his phone like it might suddenly start ringing if he squeezed hard enough. The screen glowed with a cruel kind of stillness¡ªEliana¡¯s name lit up in the recent calls list, again and again, unanswered. His jaw tightened. Each missed call felt like her voice saying "Don¡¯t bother." And maybe she was right.


    He hovered his thumb over her contact, just for a second. He could call again. Say something real this time. But then what? She¡¯d let it ring, or worse¡ªsend it straight to voicemail like before. So instead, he dropped the phone onto the ss coffee table. It bounced off a stack of unopened mail¡ªbills he¡¯d ignored, party invites he didn¡¯t care about¡ªand came to a stop beside a half-drained ss of bourbon. The amber liquid shimmered in the city¡¯s glow, reflecting back the same color as his eyes. Hazel, like hers used to light up when she smiled at him. Back when she thought he was worth something.


    He leaned forward, elbows on knees, dragging both hands through his tousled blond hair. It was getting longer than usual, a little unkempt¡ªEliana used to ruffle it with augh and call him a "spoiled surfer boy." He used to like that. Now, the silence of the room pressed in around him, too loud, too sharp.


    Truth was, he didn¡¯t even know where she lived anymore. When she left¡ªpacked out of his house with that sickly father of hers and a sad little truck filled with everything they owned¡ªhe hadn¡¯t asked where she was going. Hadn¡¯t cared. Not then. To him, she was just anotherplication. A mess he didn¡¯t need. Her dad had been in and out of hospitals, she was always exhausted, and she kept asking for things he didn¡¯t know how to give¡ªtime, help, honesty. Vulnerability.


    Back then, he had his hands full with parties, deals, headlines and Sarai. Who had room for a girl dragging around broken pieces of a life he didn¡¯t want to fix?


    But now? Now, it wed at him. That not-knowing. It festered like a splinter he couldn¡¯t reach, couldn¡¯t ignore. Where was she sleeping? Was her dad okay? Did she even think of him anymore¡ªor had she finally figured out he wasn¡¯t the hero she¡¯d once believed he could be?


    Jason let his head fall back against the couch, eyes staring nkly at the ceiling. The city pulsed below like a heartbeat, steady and uncaring. He had everything people chased after¡ªmoney, power, ast name that got doors opened¡ªbut none of it meant a damn thing without her.


    And maybe the worst part? He knew it was his fault. She hadn¡¯t slipped through his fingers. He¡¯d let her go. No¡ª<i>pushed her.</i>


    "God, I¡¯m an idiot," he muttered, his voice low and bitter, swallowed by the hum of the city below. He stood, pacing the length of the penthouse, his sneakers silent on the polished hardwood. His mind churned with regret.


    Every step echoed with what-ifs. The times she tried to talk to him¡ªreally talk¡ªand he brushed her off, too wrapped up in his own mess to notice she was quietly falling apart. She¡¯d asked for time. For help. For space to just be heard. And he hadn¡¯t listened. Hadn¡¯t even tried.


    Now she was gone. Not in the dramatic sense¡ªno goodbye note, no mmed door¡ªbut vanished, like smoke curling out of reach. One minute she was there, and the next... nothing. A ghost in the shape of a girl he should¡¯ve fought harder to hold onto.


    He stopped at the massive window, staring at the man staring back. Clean-cut, ridiculously good-looking, dressed like he belonged on a magazine cover. But his reflection was all surface¡ªmoney, style, charm¡ªand none of it mattered. Not when his chest felt like a hollow drumbeat and his head was full of static.


    A private investigator. The idea sparked like a live wire. Drastic? Sure. Desperate? Absolutely. But he was past caring how it looked. What the hell else could he do?


    Sarai definitely wouldn¡¯t help. She¡¯dugh¡ªGod, she¡¯dugh so hard. Her eyes always saw too much, and her tongue knew exactly where to cut deepest. She never liked Eliana. Never pretended to. The hate had always sat in her voice like poison. Sarai would rather swallow ss than lift a finger to find her.


    Across town, in their highearn hostel, Sarai Monroe was unraveling in her own way. Her private living room was a curated masterpiece¡ªwhite fur throws, gold-ented furniture, and a chandelier that dripped crystals like frozen tears. But the elegance was a facade, barely containing the storm brewing inside her. She sat cross-legged on a plush rug, her phone bnced on her knee, her glossy ck hair pulled into a high bun so tight it pulled at her scalp. She scrolled through Instagram with a manic intensity, her green eyes narrowed, searching for any trace of Eliana. Jason had been ignoring her for days, his attention glued to his phone, chasing a woman who didn¡¯t even deserve him. It was infuriating. Sarai had won¡ªshe¡¯d driven Eliana out of their lives, out of Jason¡¯s bed, out of everything. And yet, Eliana¡¯s shadow still lingered, a ghost that refused to be exorcised.


    "Stupid girl," Sarai hissed, her voice a low venom as she scrolled. "You don¡¯t get to ruin everything after I already got rid of you." Her thumb froze as a video popped up on her feed, the thumbnail showing a familiar figure in a wheelchair, nked by a woman with wild curls and a sling on her arm. The caption screamed in bold: BLIND <strong>BILLIONAIRE RAFAEL VEXLEY SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY WOMAN¡ªKENNETH HOLLOWAY¡¯S ADOPTED GRANDDAUGHTER? </strong> Sarai¡¯s lips curled into a cruel smile as she tapped y.


    The video was grainy, clearly shot by some nosy bystander in a hospital corridor. Rafael Vexley¡¯s wheelchair glided through the frame, his chiseled face a mask of cold indifference. Beside him walked Eliana, her navy sweater frayed at the cuffs, her jeans clinging to her slender frame. She looked small, fragile, but there was a quiet defiance in the way she held her head, her curls bouncing with every step. The camera lingered on them, catching the way Rafael¡¯s chair stayed close to her, protective, like a knight guarding a queen. Whispers from the crowd filtered through the audio¡ª<i>"Is that really him?" "Who¡¯s that woman? Why are they together?"</i>¡ªand Sarai¡¯sugh cut through the sound like a de.


    "Oh, Eliana," she sneered, leaning back against the couch, her manicured nails tapping the phone screen. "You¡¯re pathetic. Leeching off the blind, crippled billionaire now? You and your sob story always find a way totch onto someone with a wallet." She shook her head, her bun glinting under the chandelier¡¯s light. "You and Rafael Vexley deserve each other¡ªtwo broken things pretending they¡¯re worth something."


    Herughter died as a wicked idea sparked in her mind, her eyes glinting with malice. She opened her messages, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she attached the video and sent it to Jason. The message was a carefully crafted dagger: <i>"Look at your precious Eliana, Jason. She doesn¡¯t deserve you. She¡¯ll leech onto anyone with money¡ªfirst her "grandfather" Keh Holloway, then you, and now this blind, crippled tyrant. Forget her. She¡¯s not worth your time." </i>


    She hit send, a triumphant smirk curling her lips as she imagined Jason¡¯s reaction. Let him see Eliana for the gold-digger Sarai had always known she was. Let him hate her. Let hime back to Sarai, where he belonged.


    Back in his penthouse, Jason¡¯s phone buzzed, the sound jarring in the quiet. He snatched it up, his heart lurching at the notification from Sarai. He opened the video, his jaw tightening as he watched Rafael Vexley¡ª<i>Rafael freaking Vexley</i>¡ªglide alongside Eliana like he owned her. The message beneath it burned into his brain, each word a fresh wound. <i>She doesn¡¯t deserve you... leech... blind, crippled tyrant...</i>


    Jason¡¯s grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles whitened, his breathing in sharp, angry bursts. He stood, pacing again, his reflection a blur in the ss. "No one takes what¡¯s mine," he growled to the empty room, his voice shaking with a mix of rage and desperation. "Not some blind, crippled no matter how much he has. No one!"


    He stopped, staring at the video frozen on his screen¡ªEliana¡¯s face, tired but defiant, next to Rafael¡¯s cold,manding presence. His chest ached with a possessiveness he hadn¡¯t felt in months. Eliana was his¡ªhis to love, his to hurt, his to keep. And he¡¯d be damned if he let Rafael Vexley, of all people, take her away.


    "I¡¯ming for you, Eliana," he swore, his voice low and dangerous, the words swallowed by the empty penthouse. "And I¡¯m not letting him have you. Never!"

 Chapter 37: Lost

    <h4>Chapter 37: Lost</h4>


    Night cloaked Rafael Vexley¡¯s estate like a shroud¡ªstill, suffocating, and heavy with unspoken tension. The mansion, grand and cold, seemed to hold its breath with him. In the dim expanse of his bedroom, Rafael sat hunched on the edge of his king-sized bed, shirt wrinkled, cor open, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms like he¡¯d given up on pretending tonight.


    A half-empty bottle of whiskey dangled from his fingers, the ss glinting gold in the sliver of moonlight that dared creep through the drapes. The silence in the room was pierced only by the asional soft clink of melting ice, and the slow exhale of a man on the brink. His steel-grey eyes¡ªcold, calcting, haunted¡ªstared into the void, but what he was seeing wasn¡¯t the room. It was the past. They kept reying infront of him.


    The crash. The betrayal. The blood-soaked silence that followed. His pulse ticked in his ears louder than the ticking clock on the wall.


    He took another sip¡ªburning, but familiar. The ache in his chest red with every memory: the lies, the vultures circling with his own family¡¯s name. The storm inside him roared louder than any thunderp outside. His dark, tousled hair hung over his eyes, his jaw tight with the effort of holding himself together. Tonight, he didn¡¯t bother to pretend. Not for the walls. Not for himself.


    And in the room next door¡ªquieter, softer, but just as weighed down¡ªEliana Bet stirred.


    She blinked against the warm amber glow of the bedsidemp, caught somewhere between a bad dream and a worse reality. The silk sheets twisted around her legs like vines, clinging to the sweat of restless sleep. Her right arm, suspended in a ck sling, throbbed¡ªa dull echo of the chaos that had ripped through her just yesterday.


    She groaned softly, shifting her weight as the scent ofvender from her pillow did little to calm her frayed nerves. Her curly hair tumbled over her shoulders in a halo of sleep-tangled waves. Her sweater¡ªher father¡¯s, actually¡ªhung loose on her frame, smelling faintly of him and dust. The kind offort you don¡¯t talk about.


    The digital clock blinked: <strong>9:47 p.m.</strong>


    Toote. Too hungry. Too tired to care. Her stomach grumbled¡ªa sharp reminder she hadn¡¯t eaten since morning. Or was it yesterday? Time had stopped making sense since she met Rafael Vexley.


    She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her good hand, her fingers brushing away more than just sleep. Guilt. Grief. All of it.


    Then¡ªa knock came at the door.


    Soft. Hesitant.


    But in the stillness, it cracked like thunder.


    "Miss Eliana?" ra, the housekeeper, poked her head through the door, her round face etched with concern. "Dinner¡¯s been ready for a while. Shall I bring you a te?"


    Eliana offered a weak smile, her full pink lips curving just enough to hide the weariness in her heart. "Thank you, ra, but I¡¯m... I¡¯m too tired to get up. I¡¯ll figure something outter."


    ra hesitated, her grey brows knitting together. "You sure, dear? You need to eat something. You¡¯re looking thinner than a shadow."


    "I¡¯ll be fine," Eliana said softly, her voice carrying that quiet strength she¡¯d honed over months of hardship. "Really. I just need a little more rest."


    ra gave a hesitant nod, then quietly disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving Eliana alone with the silence. Alone with the ache.


    But silence didn¡¯t feed you.


    And neither did grief.


    Her stomach twisted again¡ªan urgent, growling reminder that no matter how broken she felt, her body still needed something to keep it standing. She let out a low groan, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The marble floor kissed her bare feet with a chill that ran straight to her spine.


    She tugged her oversized sweater tighter around her frame and gave the cor a quick tug to hide the bruises only she could feel. The faded jeans she wore were frayed at the knees¡ªmore hers than anything else in this ce. Every movement was slow, careful, like she was trying not to disturb the ghosts trailing her.


    The mansion stretched before her like a living, breathing thing¡ªelegant, massive, and cold as hell.


    Every hallway was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners like secrets. She moved through them like a whisper, her fingers grazing the marble walls to keep from drifting. The sling made everything awkward. Her bnce felt off. She was off.


    This house wasn¡¯t made for the wounded. It was made to impress. And right now, Eliana just needed a sandwich.


    After a few wrong turns¡ªone leading to a locked study, another to a staircase that seemed to descend into nowhere¡ªshe finally stumbled upon the kitchen. Or rather, the high-techir of some culinary god. Stainless steel everything, sleek marble counters, mood lighting glowing under the cabs like a soft electric halo. She paused, momentarily overwhelmed. This kitchen didn¡¯t smell like home. It smelled like... money.


    Still, her stomach made the call.


    The industrial fridge loomed in front of her like a vault. She opened it and let out a breath of disbelief. Roasted chicken. Mashed potatoes. Saut¨¦ed green beans. Cold, but beautiful. Someone had been eating like royalty while she was trying to make sense of broken bones and worse memories.


    She chuckled under her breath as her stomach roared in triumph. "I had a fridge just like you, once upon a time." she murmured to it, "Nothingsts forever I guess."


    One-handed, she awkwardly stacked the containers on the counter. The microwave looked like it required a PhD in engineering, and her left hand fumbled across the buttons. Each jab made her wince¡ªthe sling on her right arm tugging at sore muscles and bruised pride. Still, she got it working. The soft whirr of the microwave was the first warmth she felt all day.


    As the scent of roasted garlic and herbs filled the air, for a second, just a second, it almost felt normal.


    She sat at the kitchen ind, te bnced on herp, fork clutched in her non-dominant hand like it was an unfamiliar weapon. The first attempt to cut into the chicken failed miserably¡ªher fork slipping, elbow knocking into the counter, pain ring up her arm. She clenched her jaw.


    "Come on, Eliana," she muttered, trying again. "It¡¯s just food. You¡¯ve handled worse."


    But this? This was worse.


    Worse because it wasn¡¯t a monster she could outrun. It was exhaustion. Pure and quiet and soul-deep. It was the way her body trembled not from fear, but from sheer effort. From the weight of having to try so hard for something so small.


    She finally got a piece of chicken into her mouth, chewed, swallowed¡ªand then quit.


    The next bite slid off her fork and flopped pathetically onto her te. Her eyes burned.


    Not because of the food. But because she was tired. So damn tired.


    She pushed the te away. The metal fork clinked louder than it should¡¯ve, echoing through the kitchen like a reminder of failure. Her honey-brown eyes shimmered, tears threatening but refusing to fall. No. Not for this. Not tonight.


    With a quiet, frustrated sigh, she stood¡ªslow, deliberate¡ªher breath shaky. The hunger was still there. So was the pain. But neither of them could outweigh the one thing she wanted most: to feel whole again.


    And tonight, she just didn¡¯t have it in her.


    So she turned. And walked back into the house that wasn¡¯t hers. Back toward the room that felt less like safety and more like a prison.


    But the mansion¡¯s maze betrayed her. Exhausted and disoriented, Eliana wandered down a hallway she thought was familiar, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. She pushed open a heavy oak door, expecting the soft glow of her bedroommp. Instead, she stepped into darkness, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and something sharper¡ªanger, perhaps, or pain. She didn¡¯t notice the figure on the bed until it was toote.


    Rafael¡¯s hand stilled, the whiskey ss hovering near his lips as he watched the door creak open. His sharp eyes, hidden behind the pretense of blindness, tracked Eliana¡¯s silhouette as she moved with that quiet grace of hers, oblivious to his presence. She crossed the room, her steps hesitant but purposeful, and climbed onto the bed without a second thought, slipping under the covers as if it were her own. Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, his grip on the ss tightening until his knuckles whitened. What the hell was she doing?


    Eliana, lost in her own exhaustion, didn¡¯t register the warmth of another body until her bare legs brushed against his under the nket. The contact was electric, a jolt that sent her heart racing. She screamed, a sharp, startled sound that echoed in therge room, and scrambled to leap out of the bed.


    "Don¡¯t. Move. A. Muscle." Rafael¡¯s voice cut through the darkness, low andmanding, each wordced with a dangerous edge that made the air feel colder. "Or you¡¯ll regret it."


    Eliana froze, her body rigid, her good hand clutching the edge of the nket. Her eyes, wide and frantic, darted around the room, finallynding on Rafael¡¯s shadowed form. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, his steel-grey eyes glinting with something unreadable¡ªanger, suspicion, or maybe something softer, buried deep. Her breath hitched, her voice trembling as she spoke. "R-Rafael? Oh my God, I¡¯m so sorry¡ªI thought this was my room!"


    His lips curled into a sardonic smirk, though his eyes never met her. "Your room? You think you can just waltz into mine and climb into my bed like it¡¯s nothing?" He set the whiskey ss on the nightstand with deliberate slowness, the clink of ss against wood sounding louder than it should. "Care to exin yourself, Eliana?"


    "I¡ªI didn¡¯t mean to!" she stammered, her cheeks flushing despite the dim light. "I was hungry, and I went to the kitchen, and then I got lost, and I¡¯m so tired, and¡ª" Her words tumbled out, frantic and unpolished, her usualposure unraveling under his intimating presence even though his eyes wasn¡¯t holding hers. "I swear, I didn¡¯t know this was your room!"


    Rafael leaned forward slightly, his broad shoulders drawing a long shadow over her. "You¡¯re telling me you wandered into my bedroom by ident?" His tone was mocking, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, a crack in his cold facade. "You¡¯re either very lost or very bold."


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, indignation flickering through her fear. "Bold? I¡¯m not bold¡ªI¡¯m lost," she shot back, her voice tight. "This ce is a maze, and I¡¯m barely functioning here."


    She gestured to her sling cradling her arm¡ªthen stopped halfway, realizing he couldn¡¯t even see her. Her anger wavered, reced by something softer. He was probably just startled, thinking a stranger barged into his space. He was only protecting himself.


    Her voice dropped. "I didn¡¯t mean to intrude, Mr. Vexley. I¡¯ll go."


    "Stay," he said sharply, the word almost a growl. His hand shot out, not touching her but hovering close enough to make her pulse race. "You¡¯re already here. Might as well tell me why you¡¯re sneaking around my house in the middle of the night."

 Chapter 38: Loosened Lips.

    <h4>Chapter 38: Loosened Lips.</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s heart thundered like a war drum in her chest, every beat echoing in the silent room. She sat stiff on the edge of Rafael¡¯s bed, her brown eyes zing with defiance and sheer embarrassment. Moonlight poured through the tall windows in silver streaks, turning shadows into jagged shapes that danced like ghosts between them.


    Her curls¡ªwild and untamed¡ªfell over her face like a shield, but even they couldn¡¯t block out the intensity of his stare. Those steel-grey eyes, hauntingly sharp despite his blindness, felt like they saw everything¡ªthe panic in her breath, the way her fingers clenched the hem of her sweater, the tremble she tried so hard to hide.


    "I wasn¡¯t sneaking!" she snapped, her voice cracking through the stillness. "Like I said before, I was hungry, okay? I couldn¡¯t even open the damn fridge properly because of this stupid sling." She shook her arm slightly, the fabric rustling. "I just wanted something to eat. I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d... end up here. I thought this was my room."


    Thest word hit the floor like a dropped secret. Her voice faltered, her gaze flicking away, cheeks burning as heat rushed to her face.


    Rafael didn¡¯t move. He sat like stone, broad shoulders drawn against the headboard, the cut-ss tumbler still in his hand catching a shard of moonlight. His expression was unreadable¡ªcool, detached, the way he always was. But behind the hard lines of his face, something flickered. Not anger. Not amusement. Something quieter. A crack in the armor.


    The whiskey had dulled the edge of whatever fury he might¡¯ve held, but mistrust still hung around him like smoke. And yet... there was something about Eliana¡ªher raw, unfiltered honesty, the way her vulnerability spilled out unguarded¡ªthat tugged at the frayed threads of his guarded heart.


    "You¡¯re a mess, Eliana," he said atst, his voice quieter now, almost tender, though it carried the faintest bite of mockery. "But I¡¯ll let it slide. Just this once. You sound... truthful. And that¡¯s saying something."


    Eliana blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d heard him right. "Is that... apliment?" she asked, her voice tinged with cautious hope, her eyes searching his face for any hint of warmth.


    Rafael¡¯s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk breaking through his cold facade. "Don¡¯t get used to it," he snapped, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him, curling upward just enough to reveal a flicker of amusement. "Come with me."


    Her brows furrowed, confusion knitting her features. "Come with you? Where?"


    He didn¡¯t answer. Instead, Rafael shifted, his movements deliberate and slow, as if every motion was a calcted performance. He dragged his body across the bed, his strong arms pulling him toward the wheelchair positioned beside it. Eliana watched, her heart twisting with a mix of pity and awe, as he reached out, his fingers brushing the air with practiced precision, feeling for the chair. His face remained impassive, his eyes unfocused, ying the part of a blind man with chilling uracy. He gripped the armrests and hoisted himself into the chair with a grunt, his movements fluid despite the pretense of paralysis.


    Eliana instinctively stepped forward, her good hand reaching out. "Do you need¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t bother," Rafael cut her off, his voice sharp as a de. "You¡¯re as disabled as I am right now with that useless hand of yours." His words stung, but there was a glint of dark humor in his tone, a challenge that dared her to argue.


    She froze, her hand hovering mid-air before dropping back to her side. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing, her pride warring with the exhaustion that weighed her down. Rafael didn¡¯t wait for her response. With a flick of his wrist, he maneuvered the wheelchair out of the bedroom, the soft hum of the motor echoing in the cavernous hallway. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, his voice clipped but expectant.


    Eliana hesitated, her bare feet rooted to the floor. But curiosity¡ªand something else, something she couldn¡¯t name¡ªpropelled her forward. She followed him, her steps tentative, her sling cradled against her chest. The mansion¡¯s hallways stretched endlessly before her, abyrinth of polished marble and shadowed corners. Rafael navigated it with an ease that left her stunned, his wheelchair gliding smoothly around corners and past ornate statues as if he could see every inch of the space. How did a blind, paralyzed man move with such confidence in a house this vast? The question gnawed at her, but she kept it locked behind her lips.


    They reached the kitchen, a sprawling expanse of gleaming countertops and stainless steel that gleamed under the soft glow of pendant lights. Eliana¡¯s eyes widened as Rafael rolled to a stop beside the ind, his movements as precise as a dancer¡¯s. "Are you...hungry?" she asked, her voiceced with confusion, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of him.


    Rafael didn¡¯t look at her¡ªcouldn¡¯t, she reminded herself. "Sit," he said simply, nodding toward one of the high-backed counter chairs. His tone was neither kind nor cruel, just matter-of-fact, as if her presence was a given.


    Eliana obeyed, sliding onto the chair with a wince as her sling caught on the edge. She watched, her breath catching, as Rafael rolled toward the massive refrigerator. His hands moved with uncanny precision, pulling open the door and retrieving a box of frozen pizza from the freezerpartment. The way he handled it¡ªconfident, unflinching¡ªsent a jolt of disbelief through her. How could a blind man move like that? It was as if the kitchen itself bent to his will, every drawer and door within his reach.


    He rolled to the microwave, popped the pizza inside, and set the timer with the same effortless precision. Eliana¡¯s lips parted, but no words came. She watched in silence, her heart thudding, as the microwave hummed to life. Rafael, unbothered by her stare, reached into a lower cab and pulled out a bottle of red wine, itsbel catching the light. He then retrieved two wine sses from the counter above, his fingers brushing the stems with a familiarity that made her head spin.


    He rolled back to the ind, setting the sses down with a soft clink. "I know this house like it¡¯s my own body," he said nonchntly, as if reading her thoughts. "Muscle memory. You live somewhere long enough, it bes part of you."


    Eliana nodded slowly, her mind racing. If he could do all this, why did he need her? Why was she here, ying caregiver to a man who seemed to need no one? The question burned, but she swallowed it, afraid of what the answer might reveal.


    The microwave beeped, and Rafael retrieved the pizza, the scent of melted cheese and pepperoni filling the air. He slid the tray onto the table in front of her, his movements smooth and deliberate. "Eat," he said, his voice low but not unkind. "You can manage that with one hand."


    Eliana stared at the pizza, then at him, her throat tight. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice just a little whisper. She didn¡¯t know why he was being kind¡ªor if it even was kindness¡ªbut the gesture warmed something inside her, something she hadn¡¯t felt in a long time.


    Rafael poured wine into the sses without spilling a drop, the deep red liquid catching the light like liquid rubies. He slid one toward her, his fingers brushing the stem. "Drink," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    "I... I don¡¯t know if I should," Eliana said, her voice hesitant. "It¡¯ste, and¡ª"


    "Drink," he repeated, his voice softer now, butced with something darker, a heaviness that made her pause. His face was shadowed, his jaw tight, and she realized he wasn¡¯t in the mood for defiance.


    She took the ss, her fingers trembling slightly, and sipped. The wine was rich, velvety, with a warmth that spread through her chest. It paired perfectly with the pizza, the vors mingling in a way that made her sigh. She took another sip, then another, and soon Rafael was pouring her a second ss.


    They ate in silence at first¡ªthe kind of silence that wasn¡¯t awkward, just... tentative. Only the soft clink of cutlery and the muted rustle of napkins filled the air. The tension between them hovered like a third presence at the table. But the wine¡ªsmooth, rich, and dangerously good¡ªdid what it always did. It loosened lips. Softened walls.


    Eliana leaned forward, her cheeks flushed with warmth¡ªhalf from the alcohol, half from the rarefort. Her eyes sparkled, the corners crinkled with a slightly crooked smile. "You know," she said, voiceced with a tipsy giggle, "I honestly thought being an asshole was your entire personality."


    Rafael arched a brow, lips curling into a slow, mocking smirk. "And I assumed being a gold digger was yours," he replied smoothly, his tone teasing¡ªbut the edge in it still cut clean.


    For a second, they just stared at each other¡ªdeadpan.


    Thenughter exploded between them, raw and unexpected. It filled the kitchen, cracked the tension, made the cold space feel a little less hollow. Eliana gripped her wine ss like it was anchoring her to the moment, shoulders trembling with genuine amusement.


    "Touch¨¦," she managed through augh, shaking her head. "Okay. Fair. But seriously¡ªRafael, you¡¯re like a walking fortress. Steel walls, no entry. You don¡¯t trust anyone, do you?"


    The smile slipped from his lips like it had never been there. His gaze dropped to the ss in his hand, the dark wine swirling like secrets in a storm.


    "I don¡¯t," he said quietly. t. Final. "I¡¯ve been stabbed in the back too many times to count. Trust isn¡¯t a virtue¡ªit¡¯s a liability. And I stopped affording luxuries a long time ago."


    Eliana¡¯s smile faltered just slightly, softening into something quieter¡ªmore real. Her heart twisted a little at the pain behind Rafael¡¯s words, the kind you don¡¯t just say unless you¡¯ve lived through it.


    "I get it," she said, her voice just a murmur. "My best friends... they betrayed me too. Smiled to my face, then disappeared the second things got hard. Stabbed me in the back and didn¡¯t even flinch." She exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her ss. "But even after all that, I still want to believe there are good people out there. People who are worth the risk."


    Rafael let out a short snort, the sound dry but not cruel. "That¡¯s stupid thinking," he muttered, though his eyes didn¡¯t hold the bite his words tried to carry.


    She raised her ss defiantly, a crooked smile tugging at her lips. "Then here¡¯s to stupid thinking."


    He hesitated for a breath. Then, with a quiet huff that might¡¯ve been augh, he lifted his ss and touched it to hers with a soft clink. "To stupid thinking," he echoed, his voice low¡ªalmost warm.


    Theirughter bubbled up again, this time lighter, more genuine. It settled into the air like music, washing over the cold surfaces of the kitchen and warming the space between them. For the first time, it didn¡¯t feel like they were on opposite sides of a war.


    Rafael leaned in slightly, the sharp lines of his face softened by the table lights and wine. "I¡¯ve got a secret," he murmured, voice dipping into a low, conspiratorial whisper. His lips curled into something between a smirk and a dare. "But you can¡¯t tell anyone."


    Eliana¡¯s heart tripped over itself, the sudden shift in tone sending a thrill down her spine. She leaned in instinctively, her curls spilling across her face as her breath brushed the table between them.


    Her eyes locked with his, "What is it?" she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement, her eyes wide with anticipation.

 Chapter 39: Drunken Secrets

    <h4>Chapter 39: Drunken Secrets</h4>


    <strong>Warning: Explicit Content Ahead </strong>


    Rafael Vexley leaned forward, squinting dramatically at the rim of his wine ss like it held the secrets of the universe. His head swayed with the motion, his dark hair falling over one eye. "Pssst," he whispered loudly, his voice soaked in mischief and several too many drinks. "Elianaaaa."


    Eliana blinked at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with exaggerated curiosity. "What?" she whispered back, like they were plotting world domination, even though they were the only two people in the kitchen. "Why are we whispering?"


    Rafael leaned in further, nearly toppling off his wheelchair. "I have a seeecret," he slurred, grinning like a boy caught sneaking cookies.


    Eliana¡¯s mouth dropped open. "Nooo," she gasped, clutching her chest as if he hadn¡¯t just said those exact words moments ago. "Tell me now. Immediately. Or I¡¯ll die."


    "I can¡¯t just <i>say</i> it," he said with a drunken shake of his head, like it was a matter of national security. "You have to earn it."


    "Oh, please," she giggled, pushing his shoulder lightly. "I literally peeled your pizza off the floor earlier. I earned it!"


    "You dropped it!"


    "You dropped <i>you</i>," she fired back, and they both exploded intoughter, the kind that made their bellies ache and eyes water.


    But suddenly, in the middle of their giggle fest, Eliana¡¯s face twisted.


    "Uh-oh..." she said, her voice wobbling.


    Rafael squinted at her, still chuckling. "What? What¡¯s that face? Why¡¯re you making the¡ªoh no."


    "I think I¡¯m gonna throw up," Eliana whispered, blinking hard as the room began to spin.


    Rafael flinched like she¡¯d pulled a knife. "Don¡¯t you dare!" he barked, pointing a shaky finger at her. "Not in my kitchen. This is sacred territory!"


    Her eyes widened. "I¡¯m serious," she groaned, clutching her stomach like it had betrayed her. "My insides are¡ªuhh¡ªdoing gymnastics. The wine... the cheese... the mushrooms that looked weird..."


    "Oh, no no no no¡ª" Rafael pushed his ss away and spun his wheelchair toward her, nearly knocking over a stool in the process. "Not here. Not on the Carrara marble. Not on my child."


    Eliana huped, eyes glossy. "Your what?"


    "My kitchen," he said solemnly, cing a hand on the counter like he was swearing an oath. "She¡¯s all I have."


    Eliana let out a helplessugh. "Your priorities are <i>insane</i>."


    "You¡¯re insane!" he said, inching closer. "You¡¯re the one threatening to hurl all over my very expensive appliances!"


    "I can¡¯t move," she whined, flopping sideways like a tired noodle. "My legs forgot how to leg."


    Rafael sighed deeply, muttering, "Of course," and with great drama and minimal grace, maneuvered closer. He reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and dragged her¡ªgiggling and gasping¡ªonto hisp.


    "Rafi!" she squealed.


    "This is a rescue mission," he dered.


    "From what?"


    "Your stomach. And my anxiety." He hit the joystick.


    The wheelchair zoomed forward, jerking slightly, and Eliana screamed¡ªthen immediately burst into giggles, her arms flung around his neck like he was a rollercoaster seatbelt.


    "You drive like a lunatic!" she shrieked.


    "I am a lunatic!" he yelled back, swerving around a corner. "A lunatic who cares deeply about his floors!"


    She wasughing so hard, she could barely breathe. "This is not how I imagined being swept off my feet!"


    "You didn¡¯t specify how! That¡¯s on you!"


    "Yourp is bony!"


    "Your face is bony!"


    "You <i>flirt</i> so weird," she gasped, pressing her forehead against his shoulder as the hallway whirled by.


    "I¡¯m nailing this," he muttered proudly, barely able to keep his head straight. "Heroic, drunk, and in control. Mostly."


    As they sped toward the bedroom, one of the hallway paintings tilted from the force of their turn. Eliana pointed at it with wide eyes and snorted. "You made the art drunk too."


    "Good," Rafael said. "Now it matches the theme."


    With a soft whoosh, the sleek oak door of his bedroom slid open as Rafael tapped the button on his wheelchair, like magic responding to hismand.


    "Ooooh," Eliana said, slurring the word as she blinked at the dim golden lighting. "Fancy."


    "Of course," Rafael said, his chin up like a dignified king. "You think this facees with a basic room?"


    She giggled again¡ªthen immediately pped her hand over her mouth. "Oh no."


    "Bathroom. Now!" Rafael hollered like a soldier in battle.


    The wheelchair rolled them straight to the en-suite bathroom, Rafael muttering curses the whole way. "If you puke on my Italian tile, I¡¯ll never forgive you."


    "It¡¯s Italian?" she asked, voice muffled by her hand.


    "Heated floors. Voice-activated lights. The toilet sings opera."


    "Whaaaaat?" she moaned. "Your toilet sings?"


    "Only when it¡¯s in the mood."


    "Mine just...flushes." Her face scrunched again. "Oh no. It¡¯s happening¡ª"


    Rafael mmed the brakes. "Okay, okay, time to eject! Move it, Eliana!"


    "I can¡¯t," she moaned. "My legs are dead. I¡¯m gonna die here, in yourp, surrounded by technology and betrayal."


    "I will throw you in if I have to!"


    "I dare you."


    "You don¡¯t think I will?"


    "Coward," she whispered.


    With exaggerated groaning, Rafael helped her slide off hisp. Shended on the floor with a dramatic thud andy there for a moment like a fallen soldier.


    "I live here now," she said.


    "No, you vomit in there," he said, pointing toward the glowing bathroom like it was the gates of heaven. "This is your mission. Don¡¯t fail me."


    She crawled¡ªliterally crawled with one hand¡ªtoward the doorway, giggling between groans. "If your toilet sings to me, I¡¯m marrying it."


    "Wait in line," Rafael said, resting his head against the doorframe andughing into his arm.


    Eliana reached the toilet just in time, clutching it like a long-lost lover. From behind her, Rafael called out, "Tell it I say hi."


    A pause.


    "Oh my God," she whispered from inside. "It¡¯s warm."


    "I told you!"


    <i>"That¡¯s so weirdlyforting!"</i>


    They both burst into helplessughter again, echoing off the bathroom walls like they were children at a sleepover.


    After a few seconds, Rafael heard the sound of retching and winced. "Poor thing," he muttered, before suddenly feeling his own stomach lurch. "Oh shit." He stood up from the wheelchair¡ªsomething Eliana would¡¯ve noticed if she wasn¡¯t so drunk¡ªand stumbled into the bathroom after her.


    "Rafi?" Eliana¡¯s voice was muffled as she leaned over the toilet. "What are you doing here?"


    "Same as you," he said, gripping the sink for support before he leaned over it, his own stomach emptying into the basin.


    Theyughed between heaves, their drunkenness making the situation feel absurdly funny. When they were finally done, Rafael wobbled to the cab and pulled out two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. He handed one to Eliana, and they stood side by side, brushing their teeth in silence for a moment before catching each other¡¯s eyes in the mirror and bursting into giggles again.


    Once their mouths were minty fresh, Rafael led Eliana back into the bedroom. She didn¡¯t even notice that Rafael Vexley walked on his two feet to the bed¡ªher head was too fuzzy to process anything beyond the fact that she was exhausted. He sat on the edge of the mattress and patted the space beside him. "Come here," he murmured, his voice soft butced with something that made her pulse quicken.


    Eliana didn¡¯t hesitate. She climbed onto the bed andy down next to him, her body sinking into the soft sheets. Rafael pulled her into his arms, and she nestled against his chest, her breath warm against his skin. For a moment, they justy there, the alcohol buzzing through their veins.


    But then Rafael¡¯s hand began to wander. His fingers traced slow circles on her hip, sending shivers down her spine. Eliana tilted her head up to look at him, her lips parted in surprise. "Rafi..."


    "I told you I had a secret," he whispered, his voice husky. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "I¡¯m not blind. And I¡¯m definitely not crippled."


    She blinked, trying to process his words through the fog of alcohol. "Wait... what?"


    Before she could say more, his lips were on hers, silencing any protest. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her moan softly into his mouth. His hands slipped under her sweater, exploring every inch of her skin as he pulled her closer.


    Eliana¡¯s mind was spinning, but she didn¡¯t care. All she could think about was how good it felt to have his body pressed against hers, his hands roaming over her like he couldn¡¯t get enough. She tore her lips from his and gasped, "Rafi..."


    He didn¡¯t respond with words. Instead, he moved down her body, kissing a trail along her neck and corbone. His fingers slid beneath the hem of her sweater, tugging it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Her bra came off just as easily, discarded somewhere beside them.


    Then his mouth found her again, this time at her chest. He took her nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking gently, like he knew exactly what would drive her wild. She gasped and arched into him, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.


    Her fingers tangled in his hair, and all she could do was feel¡ªevery kiss, every breath, every heartbeat crashing into hers like waves that refused to stop.


    "Rafi..." she moaned, her fingers tugging at his hair.


    He looked up at her with a wicked smirk, eyes glinting with heat, before slowly moving lower. His hands trailed down her sides, teasing her skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and panties. With one smooth pull, he slid them down her legs, taking his time, like he was unwrapping a very delicate present.


    She waspletely naked beneath him, she felt the air kiss her skin¡ªand his gaze, hot and heavy, drinking her in. His stormy gray eyes roamed over her with dark, unspoken hunger, like she was the only thing he¡¯d ever wanted.


    Then, without a word¡ªwithout even giving her a second to brace herself¡ªhe dipped his head and buried his face between her thighs, hungry, unrelenting, andpletely lost in her.


    Eliana let out a sharp gasp as his tongue swiped through her folds, teasing her clit with expert precision. Her hips jerked involuntarily, but he held her down, his hands gripping her thighs as he continued to lick and devour her wet and dropping pussy. Every lick sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her toes curl and her back arch.


    "Fuck," she whimpered, her voice trembling. "Rafi, please..."


    He didn¡¯t stop. Instead, he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right as he continued to work her clit with his tongue and fuck her with his fingers. Eliana was lost in the sensations, her moans growing louder and more desperate until she finally came apart, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.


    When she finally caught her breath, she looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Your turn," she whispered.


    Rafael grinned and whispered, "I can¡¯t wait that long, " and then he crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as he positioned himself between her thighs. She could feel the length of his cock pressing against her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer.


    With one thrust, he was inside her, filling herpletely. Her entrance was so warm and his cock filled her up just right. They both groaned at the sensation, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Rafael¡¯s pace was steady but intense, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her see stars.


    "You feel so fucking good," he growled against her neck, his breathing in ragged gasps.


    Eliana couldn¡¯t respond; all she could do was cling to him as pleasure consumed her. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that only spurred him on. Their bodies were slick with sweat, the sounds of their moans and the wet p of skin against skin filling the room.


    It didn¡¯t take long for them both to reach the edge. Rafael¡¯s thrusts became erratic as he felt his release building, and Eliana cried out as another orgasm ripped through her body. He followed momentster, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a loud groan.


    They copsed together in a tangled heap of limbs, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Rafael pressed a kiss to her forehead, his arms tightening around her.


    "So..." she whispered, still dazed from the alcohol and intensity of it all. "Not blind or crippled, huh?"


    He chuckled lowly, his hand trailing down her side in a way that made her shiver. "Nope."

 Chapter 40: A Harsh Morning

    <h4>Chapter 40: A Harsh Morning</h4>


    Morning sunlight crept through the gap in the curtains, slipping across the room like it was trying not to wake anyone. Itnded on the bed in thin gold lines, highlighting the mess of sheets and limbs tangled at the center of it all.


    The first thing Rafael Vexley felt was the pounding in his skull. A deep, sluggish ache that reminded him he¡¯d had way too much to drink the night before. His second realization hit harder.


    He wasn¡¯t alone.


    He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, and that¡¯s when he saw her¡ªEliana. Curled against his chest, warm skin pressed to his. She waspletely naked, her smooth brown skin glowing in the soft light, her wild ck curls syed across the pillow and part of his shoulder like they belonged there. One leg was tossed over his, her arm draped across his stomach. She looked peaceful. Beautiful.


    And then he noticed himself¡ªjust as naked, the sheet barely covering anything. His heart skipped.


    Clothes were everywhere. Her sweater was crumpled by the dresser. Her bra? Hanging from thempshade like a joke they were both in on. Panties on the floor, delicate andcy. His own shirt and pants were in a heap by the door, like they¡¯d been yanked off in a hurry and forgotten.


    But that wasn¡¯t what made his stomach twist.


    It was the wheelchair.


    It wasn¡¯t where it should¡¯ve been¡ªright by the bed, within arm¡¯s reach like always. It was across the room, parked by the open bathroom door.


    He stared at it for a moment, chest tightening. His mind raced.


    Had he...?


    Did he <i>walk</i>st night?


    Had she seen?


    A rush of panic rose in his throat. For months, Rafael had worn the mask. The limp, the wheelchair, the story he never exined. And now, just like that, one night¡ªone drunken night¡ªand he might¡¯ve ruined everything. The secret he¡¯d protected so carefully could¡¯ve slipped out with the rest of his clothes.


    He had to fix this. Fast.


    Holding his breath, he gently slid out from under Eliana¡¯s arm, careful not to wake her. She made a small sound in her sleep, but didn¡¯t stir. He moved quietly, tiptoeing across the cool marble floor, every tap in the silence sounding louder than it should.


    He reached the chair and quietly brought it back, cing it exactly where it always sat¡ªlike some quiet piece of set design for the lie he¡¯d built.


    Then he climbed back into bed, pulled the sheet over himself, and forced his breathing to slow.


    A momentter, Eliana shifted beside him, murmured something he couldn¡¯t quite hear.


    Heid there, still and silent, his heart pounding in his chest.


    He didn¡¯t know if she¡¯d seen.


    He didn¡¯t know if the truth had slipped out.


    But for now, all he could do was wait... and hope the mask hadn¡¯t fallen too far.


    Eliana¡¯s eyes fluttered open to soft morning light¡ªand within seconds, panic punched her right in the chest.


    She gasped, sharp and sudden, like she¡¯d been dunked in cold water. Her eyes flew wide, and she sat up so fast the sheet nearly slipped off her. Her arms flew up to clutch it against her chest, her heart thudding wildly. Her skin was bare. Completely naked. And the body lying beside her? Definitely not hers.


    <i>"Oh my God," </i>she breathed out, her voice rising in rm.<strong><i> "Oh my God!"</i></strong>


    She looked down¡ªthen at the man next to her¡ªthen down again, like the view might somehow change. But it didn¡¯t. Rafael Vexley was lying there, shirtless, the sheet barely covering him, too. Their legs had been tangled together. She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Her head throbbed with a nasty, wine-soaked ache, the kind that made the room tilt slightly at the edges. But nothing¡ªnot even the headache¡ªwas stronger than the wave of horror crashing over her.


    "What¡ªwhat is this?!" she burst out,pletely unable to hide the panic in her voice.


    Rafael stirred, like her shouting had just pulled him from a dream. He rubbed at his eyeszily, brows furrowed like he was still half-asleep. "Eliana?" His voice was groggy, rough. "Why are you yelling? What¡¯s going on?"


    She stared at him like he¡¯d grown a second head. "We¡¯re naked, Rafael!" she practically shouted, her voice cracking. "I woke up in your bed, with you, and we¡¯re both¡ª" She shook her head, struggling to find the words. "We¡¯re not wearing anything!"


    He pushed himself up on one elbow, his face unreadable. Calm. Too calm.


    "I should be asking you that," he said slowly, almost using. "Eliana, I¡¯m <i>blind</i>. I can¡¯t exactly <i>see</i> what¡¯s going on, can I? I don¡¯t even remember youing into my room. So maybe you can tell me why you¡¯re here?"


    She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Closed it again. Her brain scrambled to stitch together fragments of the night before¡ªbits of memory that refused to settle.


    "I... I remember going to the kitchen," she mumbled, her voice small now, shaky. "I was hungry. I thought I was heading back to my room, but I must¡¯ve gotten lost on my way back. I thought this was my bedroom."


    She nced around the room and winced. Her bra still dangled from themp. Her pantiesy half-crumpled on the floor. Her sweater was by the dresser. Every detail screamed at her.


    "You brought me back to the kitchen," she continued, almost like she was trying to convince herself. "You made pizza... we talked. You gave me wine." Her voice dropped lower, her stomach turning. "After that, it¡¯s just... fog."


    She covered her face with her hands and let out a low, strangled sound. "No, no, no. This isn¡¯t happening. Not again."


    She didn¡¯t have to say it out loud. Again was enough.


    The memory came back in a flood¡ªone she¡¯d tried hard to push down. That first time. That idental, guilt-drenched night barley a week ago she¡¯d been trying to forget ever since.


    And now this.


    Rafael Vexley. Her boss. The man whose name was on every check for her father¡¯s hospital bills. The man who held her future in his hands.


    And she¡¯d just slept with him <i>again</i>.


    Unthinkable didn¡¯t even cover it.


    Rafael watched her silently, his face softening. But just for a second¡ªbarely a breath¡ªbefore he schooled it back into indifference.


    He straightened his posture, tone turning cool, practiced. "Look, Eliana... it¡¯s not a big deal," he said, shrugging like they hadn¡¯t just woken up naked together. Like it wasn¡¯t exactly the kind of mess you don¡¯te back from. "Things got a little out of hand. That¡¯s all."


    He kept his voice light, almost dismissive, like if he said it casually enough, it wouldn¡¯t matter.


    "I¡¯ll fix it. Whatever you need." He leaned over toward the nightstand, his fingers feeling around like he was searching for something¡ªhis checkbook, probably. "How much do you want?"


    His hand trembled for a split second as he reached, the act of fumbling just a bit too exaggerated. He was ying blind again. Slipping back into the role he wore so well.


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, her breath hitching. "What did you just say?" Her voice was low, trembling with a mix of hurt and fury.


    "I said I¡¯ll pay you," Rafael repeated, his voice cool, though a flicker of unease passed through him. "For... whatever happened. Name your price."


    The room seemed to still. Eliana¡¯s face crumpled, her eyes zing with a fire Rafael hadn¡¯t seen before. "You think I¡¯m a prostitute?" she whispered, her voice shaking. Before he could respond, her hand flew out, connecting with his cheek in a sharp, resounding p. The sound echoed in the silent room, and Rafael¡¯s head snapped to the side, his jaw clenching.


    "I¡¯m not some cheap fling you can buy off!" Eliana shouted, tears spilling down her cheeks. "How dare you? How dare you think so little of me?" She scrambled out of bed, clutching the sheet to her chest as she gathered her scattered clothes. Her hands trembled as she yanked on her sweater and jeans, not caring that they were inside out. "You¡¯re an asshole, Rafael Vexley. Aplete asshole."


    "Eliana, wait¡ª" Rafael started, but she was already storming toward the door, her bare feet pping against the floor. The door mmed behind her, the sound reverberating like a gunshot.


    In her own bedroom, Eliana copsed onto therge bed, her sobs wracking her slender frame. The shame burned through her, hotter than the headache pounding at her temples. How had she let this happen again? Rafael¡¯s cold offer echoed in her mind, each word a fresh wound. She wanted to pack her bags, to flee this stupid cage and never look back. But the image of her father, frail and tethered to hospital machines, stopped her cold. Rafael¡¯s payments kept him alive. And his threat¡ªif she left, he¡¯d use her of theft and ruin her life¡ªloomed like a guillotine over her neck. She had no choice. The tears came harder, her body shaking as she curled into herself, the weight of her reality crushing her.


    Back in his room, Rafael sat motionless, the sting of Eliana¡¯s p lingering on his cheek. He touched the spot gingerly, his jaw tight. He couldn¡¯t remember how they¡¯d ended up in bed, couldn¡¯t recall the moment his carefully constructed facade might have slipped. But the look on Eliana¡¯s face¡ªheartbroken, betrayed¡ªcut deeper than he¡¯d expected. For a man who prided himself on control, this was a mess he hadn¡¯t anticipated.


    He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements fluid and sure, a stark contrast to the crippled persona he projected. He dressed quickly, pulling on a crisp white shirt and tailored cks, his fingers deftlybing through his dark, wavy hair. Settling back into the wheelchair, he steeled himself. Pride be damned¡ªhe needed to apologize. Eliana deserved that much, even if it meant swallowing the bitter taste of vulnerability.


    He was about to wheel toward the door when the inte on his nightstand buzzed, sharp and insistent. Frowning, he pressed the button. "Yes?"


    "Mr. Vexley," came the clipped voice of one of his security personnel. "There¡¯s a man here to see you. Says his name is Jason Asher."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw clenched instantly, his fingers tightening around the armrests of his wheelchair. Jason Asher¡ªEliana¡¯s fianc¨¦, the golden boy with a silver spoon and a wandering eye. Rafael¡¯s blood simmered, his mind racing. What the hell was Jason Asher doing here?

 Chapter 41: Sizing The Competition

    <h4>Chapter 41: Sizing The Competition</h4>


    Rafael Vexley¡¯s bedroom seemed to shrink around him, shadows clinging to the corners like they knew something he didn¡¯t. The inte¡¯s sharp buzz still pulsed in his head, chased by the security guard¡¯s brisk voice: "<i>Mr. Vexley, there¡¯s a man here to see you. Says his name is Jason Asher."</i>


    Rafael¡¯s jaw locked, his fingers tightening on the armrests of his wheelchair until his knuckles went pale. Jason Asher. Even hearing the name was like striking a match in a room full of gasoline fumes. Heat red under his skin¡ªnot the kind born of fear, but of a fury that had no business feeling so personal. Jason, Eliana¡¯s golden boy... the worthless fianc¨¦ with a perfect smile, polished enough to hide whatever rotted beneath it.


    His pulse was a drumbeat in his ears, but when he spoke, his voice was calm¡ªtoo calm. "Let him in," he said, each word cooled to ice.


    He let go of the inte button slowly, his mind already circling the same thought: <i>the audacity of this man, walking into his home like he owned it. </i>What was he here for? To nt a g in Eliana? To prove something? The memory of earlier came uninvited¡ªEliana¡¯s tear-streaked face, their shared heat tangled in his sheets. He shoved it into the shadows of his mind. Anger was easier. Anger had direction. His anger redirected toward the intruder.


    He pressed the inte again. "Tony, escort our guest to my study. I¡¯ll meet him there."


    "Yes, sir," came Tony¡¯s prompt reply, the butler¡¯s tone as unppable as ever.


    Rafael spun his wheelchair with smooth precision, the wheels whispering over polished marble as he left the bedroom. The hallway stretched out ahead¡ªtall oil paintings in gilded frames, crystal chandeliers spilling rainbows onto the walls. It was a house built to impress, to intimidate... and right now, it felt more like the opening move in a war.


    The study was his chosen battlefield. Dark mahogany walls. The scent of leather and old paper. Shelves crammed with books he could quote from memory. And in the center, the massive desk¡ªa statement in itself. He slid into position behind it, adjusting himself into the part he knew how to y: the blind, crippled billionaire.


    His hands rested lightly on the desk. His gaze, unfocused, drifted just beyond the room¡¯s center, as if he couldn¡¯t quite find the source of the sound he was waiting for. All the while, the storm inside him kept gathering.


    Minutes ticked by, each one stoking the fire in his chest. Then came the knock¡ªfirm, precise. Tony¡¯s voice followed. "Mr. Vexley, your guest is here."


    "Show him in," Rafael said, his tone smooth butced with an edge only he could feel.


    The door swung open, and Jason Asher strode in with a confidence that made Rafael¡¯s skin crawl. The man¡¯s golden hair caught the light, his hazel eyes glinting with a smugness that screamed entitlement. His tailored zer and crisp white shirt were impable, his gym-toned frame practically screaming look at me. Rafael¡¯s jaw ticked, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe that smirk off Jason¡¯s face. This was the man Eliana had chosen to marry? This peacock who cared more about his reflection than her heart? Was she blind?


    Jason¡¯s gaze swept over Rafael, lingering on the wheelchair, the clouded eyes, the carefully curated fragility. His smirk widened, a flicker of triumph in his expression. Rafael could practically hear his thoughts: <i>This is mypetition? A broken man? </i>Jason had seen the videos, no doubt¡ªthe grainy hospital footage of Eliana at Rafael¡¯s side, the captions swirling on social media: <strong><i>Are they dating? She must be Rafael Vexley¡¯s girlfriend. </i></strong>He¡¯de to size up the rumors, to see if a blind, paralyzed billionaire could possibly rival his charm. The arrogance radiating off him was suffocating.


    Rafael tilted his head, his voice cool and measured. "Mr. Asher, how can I help you?"


    Jason didn¡¯t waste a second. His voice was syrupy with fake warmth, each word dripping with the kind of charm that came gift-wrapped in arrogance.


    "I heard my <i>fianc¨¦e</i>, Eliana, was in an ident," he said, as if the phrase my fianc¨¦e wasn¡¯t the verbal equivalent of tossing a grenade into the room. "And that you were kind enough to help her out. I can¡¯t thank you enough. I came to pick her up."


    He eased himself against the edge of Rafael¡¯s desk, all casual confidence¡ªone hand in his pocket, the other drumming a slow, cocky rhythm. He stood like he owned the ce, like he¡¯d been invited.


    The word <i>fianc¨¦e</i>nded with a dull, heavy thud in Rafael¡¯s mind. A small, almost imperceptible lift of his brow was the only betrayal of surprise.


    <i>Fianc¨¦e? </i>The thought burned through him. Eliana hadn¡¯t called Jason when her father¡¯s hospital bills threatened to bury her ¡ªwhen her own hospital bills came calling ¡ªeven though the man was rich enough to cover them without blinking. Rafael had assumed¡ªno, known¡ªthat whatever they¡¯d once had was dead, strangled by Jason¡¯s wandering eye and Eliana¡¯s quiet refusal to chase him. Yet here Jason was, brandishing that title like a weapon. The confidence in his voice wasn¡¯t confidence at all¡ªit was a provocation.


    Rafael kept his face still, his fury locked behind the calm surface of his eyes. He would not give Jason the satisfaction of a reaction.


    "You heard about the ident, you say?" His tone was smooth, almost bored, his fingers tapping an unhurried beat on the desk¡¯s polished wood. "Interesting. Let¡¯s see if Eliana¡¯s avable."


    He reached for the inte. No rush. No flinch. Every movement deliberate enough to feel like a challenge.


    "ra, please ask Eliana toe to my study," he said. "Someone¡¯s here for her."


    Jason¡¯s jaw tightened¡ªjust a twitch, but enough for Rafael to catch it. He hadn¡¯t expected this. That little story about Eliana being here had been bait, meant to draw Rafael into giving him Eliana¡¯s current location. Jason never for once thought Eliana would be living with Rafael Vexley. Now, the bait had caught him instead.


    The truth crashed in fast and hard¡ªEliana really was here. In Rafael¡¯s house.


    Jason¡¯s thoughts scattered like leaves in a sudden wind, and Sarai¡¯s poison-soft voice slithered through his memory: <i>She¡¯s leeching off him, Jason. She¡¯s not who you think.</i>


    His eyes narrowed just enough to show the doubt gnawing at the edges of his pride. Was she really ying him? Was Eliana just another beautiful opportunist with her ws in a billionaire¡¯s wallet? Or was there something here Jason didn¡¯t understand¡ªand maybe didn¡¯t want to?


    Back in her room, Elianay curled on the bed, her face buried in the pillow as sobs wracked her slender frame. The memory of Rafael¡¯s cold words¡ª"Name your price"¡ªcut deeper than any knife. The shame burned, mingling with the ache of her father¡¯s frail form in her mind. She was trapped, chained to this gilded cage by Rafael¡¯s money and threats. The knock at her door startled her, and she swiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, forcing herself to stand. Her reflection in the mirror was a mess¡ªred-rimmed eyes, tangled curls, her sweater still inside out from her frantic escape.


    She opened the door to find ra, her kind face etched with concern. "Eliana, are you alright?" ra¡¯s voice was soft, her eyes searching.


    "I¡¯m fine," Eliana lied, her voice hoarse. She straightened, smoothing her sweater as if it could hide her pain.


    ra hesitated, her voice careful, almost too careful. "Someone¡¯s here to see you. They¡¯re in Mr. Vexley¡¯s study."


    Eliana¡¯s heart gave a sharp, uneven beat. Rafael? The name alone sent a ripple of unease through her chest. She wasn¡¯t ready to face him¡ªnot after this morning, not with the weight of hisst words still pressing on her.


    But curiosity was a stubborn thing. Who could possibly be asking for her? No one knew she was here. Not even her father, tethered to machines in a sterile hospital room miles away.


    She gave ra a silent nod, the kind that felt heavier than it should, and followed her through the mansion¡¯s endless halls. Her bare feet whispered against the marble floor, the cold seeping into her skin until it felt like the chill had crept into her bones.


    The hallway to Rafael¡¯s study seemed to stretch unnaturally long, like the house itself wanted to slow her down, to make her think twice. Every step drew her closer to a door she didn¡¯t want to open. Memories pressed in¡ªsharp, uninvited.


    The night she¡¯d knelt in that room, begging Rafael to save her father.


    The night he¡¯d agreed¡ªat a cost she could never repay.


    The night she¡¯d let go of her dignity, feeling like she¡¯d left a part of herself behind in the shadows between those walls.


    And now she was walking back into them.


    ra knocked on the study door, and Rafael¡¯s voice, smooth and controlled, called, "Come in."


    Eliana stepped inside, her breath catching as her eyesnded on Jason Asher. His hazel eyes widened, mirroring her shock. He stood there, golden and polished, like a prince from a fairy tale she no longer believed in. But his presence here, in Rafael¡¯s domain, felt like a vition.


    "Jason?" Eliana¡¯s voice was sharp, disbelieving. "What are you doing here?"


    Jason¡¯s shock morphed into a scowl, his arms crossing. "I should be asking you that, Eliana. What the hell are you doing in <i>his</i> house?" His gaze flicked to Rafael, who sat silently, his expression unreadable.


    Eliana¡¯s cheeks flushed, her heart pounding as she realized Rafael was listening to every word. She couldn¡¯t do this here, not in front of him. "Mr Vexley, can you give us a moment?" she asked, her voice trembling but firm. Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed Jason¡¯s hand, her grip tight, and pulled him toward the door. The contact sent a jolt through her, a mix of anger and betrayal, but she didn¡¯t stop. She dragged him out, the door clicking shut behind them.


    Rafael sat frozen, the echo of Eliana¡¯s hand in Jason¡¯s searing into his mind. The sight of her touching him, choosing him, shocked him to his core. His fingers gripped the armrests, his facade of indifference cracking. For the first time in years, Rafael Vexley felt something he couldn¡¯t control¡ªjealousy.

 Chapter 42: Confrontation

    <h4>Chapter 42: Confrontation</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s pulse thundered in her ears, a frantic rhythm that made it hard to breathe. There he was¡ªJason Asher¡ªstanding in Rafael Vexley¡¯svish study like he belonged there, though his once-effortless smile now twitched under the weight of her shock.


    How?


    How could he be here, in this house?


    Her chest tightened, heat pooling beneath her skin, and her thoughts locked onto the only possible betrayal¡ªSarai. That snake of a best friend¡ªno, former best friend¡ªwho could turn lies into silk and make poison sound like poetry. Of course Sarai would feed Jason her location, dressing the truth in just enough deception to make it sting.


    Her good hand curled into a fist at her side, the other still trapped in the sling. Even without speaking, she knew Rafael was studying her; his grey eyes had that way of cutting through people until there was nowhere left to hide.


    "Mr. Vexley," she said, keeping her voice steady, "can you give us a moment?" She didn¡¯t wait for his reply.


    In two steps she was in front of Jason, her fingers locking around his wrist in a grip that burned with anger and urgency. "Come with me," she snapped, the words sharp and low, like a de meant to wound quietly. She yanked him toward the door, her sling knocking against her side with every step¡ªa dull throb she ignored. Jason stumbled once, caught off guard, but didn¡¯t resist as she dragged him out of the study, their footsteps ringing against the marble hall.


    They didn¡¯t stop until a side door gave way to the open air, spilling them into a vast, manicured garden.


    The garden was a lush escape from the mansion¡¯s cold grandeur, alive with the scent of blooming roses and the soft rustle of leaves in thete morning breeze. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of ancient oaks and onto the winding stone paths. Birds chirped obliviously overhead, their melodies a stark contrast to the storm brewing between Eliana and Jason. She released his wrist as if it burned her, spinning to face him with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, the sling making the gesture lopsided and vulnerable.


    "Why are you here, Jason?" Eliana demanded, her voice stern,ced with the raw edge of betrayal. Her honey-brown eyes zed with a wildfire that refused to be tamed. The breeze tugged at her long curls, sending them whipping across her shoulders like a g dering war.


    "How did you even find me? Was it Sarai?" Her words snapped like breaking ss. "Did she send you here to gloat?"


    Jason¡¯s hazel eyes narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. His shoulders stiffened, the easy charm he used to wear now looking like a cheap suit that didn¡¯t quite fit. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of those too-perfect, tailored cks, he looked every bit the polished man she once thought she knew. But now, that golden-boy sheen felt hollow¡ªlike gold paint over rust.


    "Why am I here?" he shot back, his voice climbing. "Eliana, what the hell are you doing living in Rafael Vexley¡¯s house?" His words ricocheted off the tall trees, heavy and using. "Do you even realize what people are saying about you?" He took a step closer, his tone breaking into something raw, almost pleading. "That you¡¯re... leeching off him? I came because I care, damn it!"


    Eliana¡¯sugh broke free before she could stop it¡ªlow, sharp, and edged with bitterness. It sliced through the morning air, too brittle to be anything but disbelief. She tilted her head back, the sound carrying a thread of hysteria, like she couldn¡¯t decide whether tough or scream.


    "Care?" she repeated, her voice trembling with scorn. "You care now? Don¡¯t insult me, Jason. This is my life, and it¡¯s none of your damn business. You lost the right to ask me anything the moment you trampled on my heart and left me to pick up the pieces."


    Jason¡¯s expression turned to stone, his jaw locking tight enough to crack. He closed the distance between them with a few deliberate steps, crowding into her space the way he used to¡ªlike he owned it, like she still belonged there. In his eyes, she was still that girl from their past: the one who would twist herself into knots for a scrap of his time, the one who thought his smile was worth any wound.


    "I have every right," he said, his voice dropping into that practiced, honeyed tone that had once made her forget her own name. Now it just felt like a de wrapped in silk. "You¡¯re my fianc¨¦e, Eliana. Or did you forget? We were engaged. That doesn¡¯t just vanish because of a few mistakes."


    The absurdity of his words hit her like a p, and Eliana¡¯sughter faded into a disbelieving scoff. Her expressive eyes widened, tears of frustration pricking at the corners, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her break. "Fianc¨¦e? Jason, are you delusional? When I needed you most¡ªwhen my father was dying, when I was drowning in debt¡ªyou abandoned me at your parents¡¯ house like some unwanted stray. Your mother humiliated me every single day, treating me like dirt under her designer heels. And when I finally had enough, when I walked out, she snatched that cheap engagement ring off my finger and told me never toe back. You weren¡¯t there to stop her. You didn¡¯t chase after me."


    Jason shifted ufortably, his blonde hair catching the sunlight as he averted his gaze to the vibrant rose bushes nearby, their petals a mocking reminder of the romance he¡¯d shattered. But Eliana wasn¡¯t done; the words poured out like a dam breaking, each oneced with the pain she¡¯d buried for too long.


    "And you? You never cared where I went, if I was okay, if I was even alive. Not one call, Jason. Not a single message. And the worst part¡ªthe absolute worst¡ªwas walking in on you and Sarai, tangled in silk sheets,ughing about me behind my back. Making fun of the ¡¯poor little Eliana¡¯ who thought she could hold onto you. You betrayed me in every way possible."


    Jason¡¯s shoulders sagged slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his handsome features, but it was fleeting, overshadowed by his narcissistic need to justify himself. He reached for her, slow and uncertain, his fingers hovering just shy of her arm. But the second his hand came close, Eliana recoiled like his touch might burn.


    "Eliana, I¡¯m sorry. Okay? I am," he began, the words tumbling out in a rush, like he could patch the cracks between them with enough sybles. "Sarai... she¡ª" He swallowed hard, eyes darting away for a beat. "She seduced me. Came onto me when I was... vulnerable."


    He stepped closer, his voice dipping into a coaxing tone she¡¯d heard a hundred times before. "I¡¯m a man, Eli. We¡¯re... prone to that kind of thing. Cheating happens." He winced, as if the bluntness might sting less if he softened it with the next words. "But it doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t love you. You¡¯re the one I want toe home to." His gaze searched hers, pleading. "Forgive me. We can start over."


    Eliana¡¯s face twisted in disgust, her full pink lips curling into a sneer as she stared at him, seeing him truly for the first time¡ªnot as her childhood crush, but as the spoiled, entitled boy he¡¯d always been. "You¡¯re such an entitled asshole, Jason. Do you even hear yourself? ¡¯Prone to cheating¡¯? That¡¯s your excuse? Love isn¡¯t something you dip in and out of like it¡¯s a game. You don¡¯t get to hurt me like that and then demand forgiveness because you¡¯re ¡¯a man.¡¯"


    Jason recoiled as if she¡¯d struck him, his eyes widening in genuine shock. This wasn¡¯t the Eliana he knew¡ªthe quiet, resilient girl who¡¯d suffer in silence. Her words hung in the air, sharp and unyielding, and for a moment, the garden seemed to hold its breath. "You... you can¡¯t talk to me like that," he stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief. "Eliana, do you not love me anymore? After everything we¡¯ve been through?"


    She met his gaze head-on, her heart aching but resolute, the emotional wounds she¡¯d carried finally scarring over into strength. "No, Jason. I don¡¯t love you anymore. I regret every second I wasted on you¡ªevery tear, everypromise. All you care about is yourself, your precious reputation. Look at me! I¡¯m standing here with my arm in a sling, and you didn¡¯t even ask if I¡¯m okay. Not once. You just stormed in here demanding answers like you own me."


    Jason¡¯s face paled, the usation hitting home, but his pride wouldn¡¯t let him back down. "I was about to ask about your hand! God, Eliana, you¡¯re just hurt right now¡ªthat¡¯s why you¡¯re yelling. You don¡¯t mean any of this. We can fix it." He paused, his voice softening maniptively. "I don¡¯t want to leave. Not like this."


    "Leave, Jason," Eliana said firmly, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. "I don¡¯t want to see you again. Ever. Go back to Sarai, or whoever else strokes your ego. Just go."


    But Jason refused, his entitlement ring into desperation. He stepped forward, grabbing her good hand before she could pull away. "Eliana, wait¡ª"


    Before she could process, before she could react or shove him off, he yanked her into his arms, his lips crashing down on hers in a forceful kiss. It was possessive, demanding, tasting of regret and maniption. Eliana¡¯s body went rigid, shock freezing her in ce as the world narrowed to the unwanted pressure of his mouth, the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. Her mind screamed to push him away, but the sling hampered her, and for a split second, old habits of submission warred with her newfound fire.


    Inside the mansion, in the dim confines of his study, Rafael Vexley sat rigidly in his wheelchair, his piercing grey eyes burning with an emotion he refused to name. He couldn¡¯t believe it: Eliana, his caregiver, the woman who¡¯d wormed her way under his skin despite his best efforts, had sped Jason¡¯s hand like a lover reiming her partner and hauled him out of the room as if they were merely squabbling sweethearts. The image reyed in his mind, igniting a fury that twisted his chiseled features into a mask of cold rage.


    "She¡¯s nothing to you," Rafael muttered to himself, his deep voice echoing in the empty room as he gripped the armrests, knuckles whitening. "Just a money-hungry girl ying her part. No reason to be angry." But the words felt hollow, a lie even to his own ears. His calcting mind, sharpened by years of betrayal and istion, rebelled against the intrusion of feeling.


    Unbidden, the memory of that morning flooded back: waking to Eliana¡¯s warm, naked form curled against him, her soft brown skin glowing in the dawn light, her expressive eyes wide with vulnerability. The way her body had fit against his, the unexpected tenderness that had cracked his armored heart. It reyed in vivid detail¡ªthe scent of her hair, the curve of her lips, the way she¡¯d fled in shame. Anger surged anew, hotter this time, but he shoved it down. "Not jealousy," he growled, rising abruptly. "Never that."


    Minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, the study¡¯s antique clock mocking him with its steady rhythm. Unable to sit still, Rafael snatched the CCTV tablet from his desk, his long fingers flying across the screen to pull up the feeds. He scanned the hallways first¡ªempty. Then the garden cameras flickered to life, and there they were: Eliana and Jason, locked in a kiss amid the roses. Her back to the camera, but the intimacy was unmistakable¡ªJason¡¯s arms around her, their bodies pressed close.


    A roar built in Rafael¡¯s chest, primal and unchecked. "Damn it!" he snarled, hurling the tablet across the room with all his athletic strength. It smashed against the wall in a shower of ss and sparks, the screen shattering like hisposure. For the first time in years, the billionaire recluse felt the walls of his carefully constructed world crumbling, jealousy¡ªno, something deeper¡ªwing its way free.

 Chapter 43: Unbelievable Events

    <h4>Chapter 43: Unbelievable Events</h4>


    The rose garden at the Vexley estate was a ce that usually felt like something out of a painting¡ªsunlight spilling through the leaves, petals spilling their perfume into the air, and the quiet hum of bees driftingzily from bloom to bloom. But all of that beauty felt miles away when Jason Asher¡¯s mouth crashed onto hers.


    It wasn¡¯t gentle. It wasn¡¯t wee. His lips clung with a desperate, almost frantic im, tasting faintly of salt and that sharp, expensive cologne that used to make her chest flutter. Now, it only made her stomach twist.


    Eliana froze, too stunned to even breathe. Her arm¡ªstill sore and weak¡ªthrobbed under the sudden press of him, and something deep inside her tried to fold in on itself, whispering the old instinct to stay still, to submit.


    Then¡ªlike a dam finally bursting¡ªEliana¡¯s senses came rushing back in a flood. Her free hand shot forward, mming against Jason¡¯s chest with every ounce of anger she¡¯d been storing for years. She tore herself away, brown eyes lit with a heat that could have set the whole rose garden alight.


    Before he could say a word, her palm connected with his cheek in a sharp, ringing crack. The sound sliced through the still air, startling the bees from the roses.


    Jason stumbled back, one hand flying to his face. Shock widened his hazel eyes, as if he couldn¡¯t quite process the fact that someone like Eliana had just hit someone like him. "Eliana... what the hell? You pped me?"


    Her voice was low, but it carried like steel. "Never," she said, the word almost a growl. "Never in your life should you put your mouth on me again, Jason. Do you hear me?" Her hands were shaking, but her stare didn¡¯t waver. "You lost that right¡ªforever."


    Jason¡¯s face crumpled, his charismatic mask cracking to reveal a glimpse of genuine heartbreak, or at least the closest thing his narcissistic heart could muster. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, his gym-toned shoulders slumping as he stared at her, voice cracking with a mix of pain and confusion. "What¡¯s wrong with you, Eliana? Why have you changed so much? We were good together¡ªperfect, even. I know I messed up, but this... this isn¡¯t you. You¡¯re not this angry, this cold."


    Eliana couldn¡¯t believe the words tumbling from his lips. Her expressive eyes narrowed, disbelief twisting her soft, heart-shaped face into a mask of incredulity. How dare he? After cheating with their best friend, after storming in without a care for her pain, he had the audacity to y the victim? Laughter bubbled up, bitter and hollow, but it died in her throat, reced by a surge of white-hot anger that made her slender frame tremble. "What¡¯s wrong with me? Are you serious, Jason? You¡¯ve been sleeping with Sarai behind my back, lying to my face for God knows how long, and you have the nerve to ask why I¡¯ve changed? Get out! Leave right now¡ªbefore I p you again!"


    Jason¡¯s eyes shed with his own spark of anger, the spoiled heir resurfacing as he straightened, his strong jaw clenching. "You think you can just toss me aside like this, Eliana? After everything? I¡¯m not letting you leave me¡ªnot like that. I¡¯ll be back. We¡¯ll talk when you¡¯ve cooled off." With a final re, he turned on his heel, his stylish casual wear rustling as he stormed off the estate grounds, leaving a trail of crushed rose petals in his wake.


    Eliana stood there, chest heaving, her hair whipping in the breeze as she watched him go. She couldn¡¯t believe it¡ªcouldn¡¯t fathom the depths of his shamelessness. How had she ever loved someone so blind to his own ws, so wrapped up in his ego that he saw her boundaries as mere suggestions? Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away, her quiet strength hardening into resolve. No more. She turned back toward the mansion, her worn-out slippers crunching on the gravel path, determined to tie up onest loose end before she could breathe freely again.


    Inside the grand mansion, with its polished marble floors and towering ceilings that whispered of old money and hidden secrets, Eliana made her way to Rafael¡¯s study. Her heart pounded, a mix of lingering fury from the garden and the sting of this morning¡¯s humiliation when he¡¯d offered her money like she was a deal to be closed. Still, she owed him an apology for Jason barging in. Just that, then she was gone. Thest thing she wanted was to be in the same room as him. She knocked softly on the heavy oak door, her slung arm aching with the motion.


    "Come in," Rafael¡¯s voice called from within, calm andposed, like a man reading the news, rather than nursing a storm inside.


    Eliana pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room where bookshelves loomed like silent guardians and the scent of aged leather mingled with the faint metallic tang of shattered electronics. Her gaze immediately fell on the broken tablet scattered in pieces against the wall, ss shards glinting like fallen stars on the Persian rug. What had happened here? She nced at Rafael, seated in his wheelchair by the desk, his chiseled jaw set, his dark wavy hair slightly tousled, those steel-grey eyes staring nkly ahead. But she bit her tongue; she wasn¡¯t here to pry or linger. She was here to apologize and leave. That¡¯s it. She didn¡¯t want to see him, not after he¡¯d treated her like dirt.


    She drew in a breath to speak, but Rafael¡¯s voice sliced through the room before she could get a word out¡ªlow, cold, and without even turning to face her, as if he could smell her presence like a predator.


    "So, you came back. Are you really that low, Eliana? Two men at once? I didn¡¯t take you for the type."


    The words hit her like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. She froze, heat rushing to her face, lips parting in stunned disbelief. After everything, he had the nerve¡ª? Her eyes locked on him, wide at first, but the hurt quickly burned away, leaving nothing but ice.


    "How dare you? What gives you the right¡ªthe moral high ground¡ªto say something like that to me, Rafael? Just because you¡¯re rich, because you own this mansion and half the city, doesn¡¯t mean you get to treat me like trash. I¡¯m done. I¡¯m leaving your house right now. If you want to send me to jail or... or kill my father, then go ahead. But I¡¯m so done with your bullshit!"


    With that, she spun on her heel, storming out of the study, the door mming behind her like a final punctuation to her shattered hopes in his humanity. Her heart raced, tears blurring her vision as she hurried down the hallway, but beneath the pain, a spark of pride flickered¡ªshe¡¯d chosen herself, finally.


    Back in the study, Rafael Vexley sat motionless, his piercing grey eyes staring at the door she¡¯d just mmed. Guilt pricked at his heart like a thousand needles, sharp and unrelenting. He¡¯dshed out from that unjustified anger, the jealousy that burned when he¡¯d seen her on the CCTV, locked in Jason¡¯s embrace. And now? He¡¯d pushed her to the brink, to choosing jail or her father¡¯s death over staying. Her father¡ªthe man she loved with a fierce, protective devotion that Rafael had glimpsed in her actions and worried nces. He hadn¡¯t even apologized for this morning, for turning their drunken mistake into a cheap payout. What a fool he¡¯d been.


    "Damn it, Rafael," he muttered to himself, his deep voiceced with self-scorn, "you¡¯re too hot-headed for your own good." Gripping the wheels of his chair, he propelled himself out of the study, the mansion¡¯s corridors blurring as he raced toward her room, determination etching his handsome features.


    Meanwhile, in the sanctuary of her bedroom, Eliana yanked her suitcase from the closet, her movements frantic despite the sling hampering her right arm. Thank God she hadn¡¯t unpacked yet; it made this easier, quicker. She was done¡ªdone with the betrayals, the maniptions, the emotional whish. Done with everyone. Tugging at her sweater with her good hand, she struggled to change, wincing as fabric caught on the sling, her mind a whirlwind of anger and sorrow. Last night shed in fragments:ughter, warmth, but it was all still a blur and besides it ended in shame.


    A knock echoed at the door¡ªfirm, insistent. She knew it must be Rafael. She ignored it, gritting her teeth as she finally shrugged into a fresh blouse. Meanwhile at the other side of the door, the knocks grew louder, drawing curious nces from the maids who hovered in the hallway, pretending to dust but stealing peeks like spectators at a drama.


    Once dressed, Eliana grabbed her suitcase, wheeling it toward the door with defiant resolve. She flung it open, ready to push past him, but in a blur of motion, Rafael¡¯s strong hand shot out, grasping her waist and pulling her onto hisp. Eliana gasped, shock rippling through her as the wheelchair rolled backwards into the room, Rafael shoving the suitcase aside with his chair before mming the door shut and blocking it with his chair as well.


    "What¡ª?" Eliana yelped, scrambling off hisp in a flurry of limbs, her heart pounding wildly. A fleeting memory surfaced¡ªsitting on hispst night, giggling amidst the haze of whatever had led to their intimacy¡ªbut it vanished as quickly as it came. She shook her head, curls bouncing, and fixed him with a re. "What are you doing, Rafael? What do you want from me now?"


    Rafael, maintaining his pretense of blindness, tilted his head slightly, his grey eyes unfocused but his voice softening with rare vulnerability. "I¡¯m sorry, Eliana. For what I said just now in the study... and for what I said this morning. All of it. I was wrong¡ªcruel, even. You didn¡¯t deserve that."


    Eliana¡¯s jaw dropped, her expressive eyes widening in total shock, as if the world had tilted on its axis. A man like Rafael Vexley¡ªcold, calcting billionaire¡ªapologizing? She couldn¡¯t believe her ears, her full lips parting in astonishment as she searched his face for deceit. But there was none; only sincerity etched in the lines of his chiseled jaw.


    He reached out tentatively, his long fingers "searching" the air before finding her hand, enveloping it in his warm, firm grip. The contact sent a jolt through her, unexpected and electric. "I mean it," he continued, his deep voiceced with regret, "I¡¯m really sorry. You¡¯ve been nothing but patient, kind, even when I didn¡¯t deserve it. And I¡¯ve hurt you¡ªdeeply. I¡¯ll try topensate for all of it, make it right somehow. Please... give me a chance to show you."


    Eliana stood there, frozen, her eyes locked on his, the room thick with unspoken emotions. Her heart raced, a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and something dangerously close to hope swirling within her. How could this be real?

 Chapter 44: Emotional Whiplash

    <h4>Chapter 44: Emotional Whish</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break free from her chest, a wild thing desperate to escape. Her big brown eyes, still wide in disbelief, stayed locked on Rafael as if staring long enough might make him make sense. The space around them seemed to shrink, the air growing heavy and electric¡ªthick with the residue of everything they¡¯d thrown at each other moments ago.


    His hand rested over hers, warm and steady, a quiet contrast to the storm he¡¯d been moments earlier. The touch sent a rush through her that she hated¡ªhalf reassurance, half warning¡ªlike stepping into the sun but knowing rain is just behind the clouds. She eased her hand back, the motion slow, curls brushing against her cheeks as she shook her head. How could this be the same man who loved making her feel small and bad at every chance he got? The same man who, from the moment their eyes first met, had been her tormentor?


    "What... what are you nning, Rafael?" she asked, her voice trembling butced with suspicion. "Why are you apologizing now? Is this some kind of game to you? Another way to keep me here, under your thumb?"


    Rafael let out a low, rumblingugh that echoed softly in the room, not mocking but tinged with a rare self-deprecation. He tilted his head, his grey eyes maintaining that unfocused gaze, his chiseled jaw softening just a fraction. "nning? Eliana, no¡ªI¡¯m not plotting anything, I swear. I¡¯m sorry. For the words that cut deeper than they should have, for the snap judgments I threw at you without thinking. You¡¯ve tolerated me more than I probably deserve¡ªand I¡¯m well aware I¡¯m not exactly easypany. Most people would¡¯ve walked away the moment we met. But instead of making it easier, I¡¯ve made it worse¡ªbeen sharp, petty, downright cruel, and not because you earned it. That¡¯s not who I want to be with you. I just... I hope my own stupidity isn¡¯t the thing that pushes you out the door."


    She crossed her arms over her chest, the sling on her right arm making the motion awkward, but her stance defiant. The emotional whish left her dizzy, her full lips pressed into a thin line. "Sorry isn¡¯t enough, Rafael. You used me of... of things I would never do. And now you¡¯re begging me to stay? Why should I believe any of this?"


    He leaned forward in his wheelchair, his athletic build straining against the crisp lines of his designer shirt, as if the pretense of fragility couldn¡¯t fully contain themanding presence beneath. "Please, don¡¯t leave. Don¡¯t make good on those threats¡ªI couldn¡¯t bear it. I promise, from this moment, I¡¯ll treat you better. No more games, no more walls. I¡¯ll prove how sorry I am, one way or another. But for now... go freshen up. Join me for breakfast. And after that, I¡¯ll take you to see your father. I can tell, without you even saying it, how worried you are about him. The way your voice caught when you mention him earlier, the shadows in your eyes¡ªit¡¯s written all over you."


    Eliana¡¯s mouth hung open, her expressive face a canvas of shock and confusion. How could he know that? The constant knot in her stomach over her father¡¯s frail health, the fear that gnawed at her every quiet moment¡ªit was like he¡¯d peeled back heryers without effort. Before she could respond, Rafael gently nudged her further into the room, his hand brushing her arm with a feather-light touch that sent an unwee shiver down her spine.


    "Go on," he urged softly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Take your time. I¡¯ll wait."


    As she stepped back, still stunned, Rafael turned his chair toward the door. He stretched out his hand, fingers sying in the air like delicate sensors, tracing the invisible path to the handle. It was a motion born of habit, not just performance¡ªafter all, blindness had been his reality for so long, etched into his muscles like an old scar. His fingertips grazed the cool metal, twisting it with practiced ease, and he wheeled himself out, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that left the room echoing in silence.


    Eliana stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, her slender frame rooted to the spot as minutes ticked by. Her mind raced like a storm-tossed sea: What was his angle? Why this sudden apology, this vulnerability from a man who thrived on suspicion and control? But beneath the doubt, a small voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, he was genuine. The regret in his eyes¡ªthose piercing grey depths¡ªhad seemed real, raw. And truthfully, leaving wasn¡¯t in her best interest, or her father¡¯s. Quitting this job, bizarre as it had been¡ªwith no actual caregiving done yet¡ªwould mean jail or worse, as he¡¯d threatened. She couldn¡¯t risk that, not when her father¡¯s life hung by such a fragile thread.


    With a deep, steadying breath, she dragged her suitcase back into the closet, the wheels rumbling softly over the plush carpet. The decision settled over her like a tentative truce. She¡¯d calm down, y along, see where this led. Pushing open the bathroom door, she stripped off her rumpled clothes, wincing as the sling caught on fabric. The shower¡¯s hot spray fell over her warm brown skin, washing away the sticky remnants ofst night¡¯s alcohol haze. She lingered under the water, letting it soothe the ache in her muscles and the fog in her head, emerging refreshed but still wary, her long curly ck hair damp and fragrant with shampoo.


    Meanwhile, in his ownvish suite down the hall, Rafael shed his pretense in private. He rose from the wheelchair with fluid grace, his tall, athletic form moving to the en-suite bathroom. The steam from his shower fogged the mirrors, but he didn¡¯t need them to confront the turmoil within. As water pounded against his broad shoulders, he reyed the morning¡¯s chaos¡ªthe jealousy that had ignited like wildfire at the sight of her with Jason, the words he¡¯d regretted the instant they left his lips. Apologizing wasn¡¯t in his nature; vulnerability was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford in his world of betrayals. But Eliana... she was different. She chipped at his armor without trying. Drying off, he dressed in another impable suit, dark waves of hairbed back, before settling back into the chair, resuming his role.


    They met in the grand hallway, the mansion¡¯s opulent chandeliers creating golden light on the marble floors. Eliana, now in a simple blouse and jeans that hugged her slender figure with modest elegance, wheeled Rafael toward the dining room. The air carried the tantalizing scents of fresh coffee, baked pastries, and sizzling bacon, but she didn¡¯t think much of it until they entered the vast space. The table stretched like a battlefield,den with silver tters under crystal domes. Six maids stood at attention in their crisp white uniforms, starched aprons gleaming, their postures rigid as soldiers awaitingmand. ra, the head housekeeper with her stern bun and sharp eyes, hovered by the head of the table, where Rafael¡¯s spot awaited.


    Rafael maneuvered his chair to his ce with ease, the breakfast array already spread before him: golden croissants king delicately, eggs poached to perfection with yolks like liquid sunshine, fresh berries glistening in porcin bowls, and steaming coffee in a china cup. Eliana hesitated for a split second, then chose a chair directly opposite him, sinking into the cushioned seat with a soft sigh. The moment her weight settled, a collective gasp rippled through the room¡ªlike a gust of wind disturbing still waters. The maids¡¯ eyes widened in unison, hands fluttering to their mouths, while ra¡¯s face tightened in disapproval.


    ra stepped forward, her voice a hushed whisperced with urgency as she leaned toward Eliana. "Miss Bet, no one is allowed to sit at the dining table with Mr. Vexley. It¡¯s... it¡¯s simply not done. Please, get up. He really hates it. I¡¯ll prepare your breakfast in the kitchen¡ªsomething suitable for the staff."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, heat flooding her cheeks as embarrassment coiled in her gut. She shifted, half-rising from the chair, her good hand gripping the armrest. "Oh, I¡ªI¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know. I thought¡ª"


    But Rafael¡¯s voice cut through the tension like a lightning, firm and unyielding. "Sit down, Eliana." He turned his head toward ra¡¯s general direction, his unfocused gaze steady. "Prepare a te for her. She¡¯s eating with me¡ªfrom now on. That¡¯s an order."


    Another gasp echoed, louder this time, a chorus of shock that hung in the air like smoke. The maids exchanged furtive nces, their expressions a kaleidoscope: some narrowed eyes burned with thinly veiled anger, as if Eliana had encroached on sacred ground; others bloomed with wide-eyed surprise, brows arched high; a few twisted into suspicion, lips pursing as whispers threatened to escape. Eliana turned nervously, her honey-brown eyes darting across their faces, feeling the weight of their stares like pins pricking her skin. What had she stumbled into? This wasn¡¯t just breakfast; it was a deration, a shift in the mansion¡¯s unspoken hierarchy.


    ra hesitated, her hands sping tightly, but she nodded curtly. "As you wish, sir." She bustled to the sideboard, ting food with efficient, if reluctant, motions: a croissant dusted with powdered sugar, eggs with a sprinkle of herbs, a cluster of ruby-red strawberries, and a cup of coffee poured with steaming precision.


    Rafael, sensing the unease, leaned back in his chair, a small smile curving his lips¡ªrare, genuine, transforming his handsome features from stone to something almost approachable. "Hurry up and eat, Eliana. We have to go see your father soon." His voice warmed, the smile lingering as he added, "Can¡¯t have you starving on my watch."


    Eliana stared at him, fork hovering mid-air. Rafael Vexley smiling? It was like witnessing a cier crack, revealing hidden depths beneath. But with the maids¡¯ eyes boring into her back¡ªsharp as daggers, heavy as judgment¡ªthe meal felt less like nourishment and more like an execution. Each bite of the ky croissant turned to ash in her mouth, the eggs sliding down her throat like lead. The clink of silverware amplified in the silence, the maids¡¯ presence a looming shadow, their whispers faint but cutting. She forced a swallow, ncing at Rafael, who ate withposed ease, oblivious¡ªor perhaps deliberately ignoring¡ªthe drama unfolding around them.


    "Is... is everything alright?" she ventured softly, her voice sounding like a whisper, hoping to pierce the awkward veil.


    He chuckled lightly, a sound that carried a hint of amusement, breaking the tension like a unexpected ray of sun. "Better than alright. For the first time in a while, it feels... right." His words hung there,ced with unspoken promise, as the maids shuffled ufortably, their world tilting on this unforeseen axis.


    Eliana managed a tentative smile, though her heart still raced. The breakfast dragged on, each moment stretched by the invisible currents of emotion swirling in the room¡ªhope flickering in her chest, wariness in her mind, and the ever-present drama of a house built on betrayals.

 Chapter 45: A Kind Soul

    <h4>Chapter 45: A Kind Soul</h4>


    The dining room of the Vexley mansion was the kind of ce that made you sit straighter without realizing it¡ªceilings so high you could almost lose sight of them, walls lined with old portraits of people who looked like they¡¯d never smiled in their lives. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, catching on half-eaten croissants and cooling coffee cups. The maids hovered at the edges, quiet and watchful, their white uniforms a sharp contrast against all the gold and dark wood.


    Eliana pushed her eggs around her te, the yolk already cold and sticky. Her head was a mess of questions. Why was Rafael being... nice? It didn¡¯t feel right. Like something fragile that could break if she breathed too hard.


    Rafael sat at the head of the table in his wheelchair, posture straight, every bit the king of the room. His grey eyes¡ªcloudy in that way he liked people to think meant weakness¡ªshifted toward one of the maids.


    "Vera," he said, his voice smooth but with that edge that made people move before they even thought about it.


    A young maid with freckles dotting her nose and auburn hair tucked neatly under her cap stepped forward, her hands sped nervously in front of her apron. "Yes, Mr. Vexley?" she replied, her tone deferential, though a flicker of curiosity danced in her green eyes.


    "Go to the garden," Rafael said, drumming his fingers on the chair¡¯s armrest. "Cut a bouquet of the red roses¡ªthe ones by the fountain that look like they¡¯re on fire ording to ra. Make sure they¡¯re fresh. No dead petals. Then put together a fruit basket¡ªapples, crisp ones, oranges full of juice, some grapes that look too perfect to eat. It¡¯s for someone in the hospital."


    Vera blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she nodded. "Right away, sir." She curtsied quickly and hurried out, her footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor, leaving a trail of whispers among the other maids.


    Eliana¡¯s fork froze midway to her mouth, her eyes widening in speechless wonder. Roses? Fruits? For her father? The gesture wrapped around her heart like a warm embrace, yet it squeezed with suspicion. Why was he doing this? Rafael Vexley, the cold billionaire who up to an hour ago treated her like an intruder in his world, now orchestrating gifts as if they were old friends. Her lips parted, but no words came at first, only a soft exhale of disbelief.


    "Mr Vexley," she finally managed, her voice tentative,ced with a mix of gratitude and protest. "You... you don¡¯t have to do that. Really, it¡¯s too much. My father¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t expect anything like this."


    He turned his head toward her, that small, enigmatic smile ying on his lips again, the one that made his chiseled jawline soften just a fraction. "Nonsense, Eliana. I can¡¯t go empty-handed. This visit is sudden, so we¡¯ll make do with what¡¯s at hand for now. But next time? Next time, I¡¯ll send him something better¡ªperhaps a collection of rare books or a custom piece of art. Something that speaks to a man¡¯s soul. And Eliana? It¡¯s Rafael, not Mr Vexley."


    Eliana opened her mouth a couple of times then closed it before she eventually shook her head, her long curly hair swaying gently, catching the light like ebony waves. "No, please. He doesn¡¯t need gifts. You¡¯ve already done so much¡ªpaying for his treatment, giving me a job. That¡¯s more than enough."


    Rafael leaned back slightly, his voice dropping to a matter-of-fact tone that brooked no argument, yet carried an undercurrent of warmth that surprised even him. "As a matter of fact, I do have to. It¡¯s not just courtesy; it¡¯s respect. For him, for you." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspokenyers, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the distance between them shrinking under the weight of his gaze¡ªfeigned blindness or not.


    Eliana searched his face, her expressive eyes flickering with emotion, but she didn¡¯t argue further. Instead, she nodded slowly, a soft "Okay" escaping her lips, though inside, her heart fluttered like a caged bird. Who was this man sitting across from her? The Rafael she knew was a fortress of sarcasm and detachment, not this... benefactor weaving kindness like a spell.


    The breakfast dragged on in awkward silence after that, punctuated only by the clink of silverware and the asional rustle of the maids clearing tes. Eliana¡¯s sling-bound arm ached faintly, a reminder of the car ident, but the real difort stemmed from the invisible tension coiling around them. Finally, Rafael set down his napkin with a decisive fold. "That¡¯s enough. We¡¯re done here." He reached for the small inte on the table, pressing a button. "Luke? Prepare the car. Eliana and I are heading to the hospital."


    The driver¡¯s voice crackled back promptly. "Yes, sir. I¡¯ll be out front in five minutes."


    Eliana nced up, surprised. "Not James? I thought he was your usual driver."


    Rafael¡¯s expression softened imperceptibly, a rare flicker of genuine affection crossing his features. "James is my secretary not my driver. He only drives when he wants to. Today is James¡¯s off day. And of all the people buzzing around me like flies, he¡¯s the only one I actually like¡ªand trust. I¡¯d walk through fire to keep him happy, even if it means not bothering him on his time off. He¡¯s more than a secretary; he¡¯s... a friend." He paused, as if the word tasted foreign on his tongue, one he¡¯d never voiced to James himself. "Besides, I don¡¯t need to drag him into every little outing."


    She nodded, touched by the revtion, a glimpse into the lonely fortress that was Rafael Vexley. As they waited, Vera returned, breathless, presenting the bouquet¡ªa explosion of crimson roses, their petals velvety and fragrant, tied with a satin ribbon¡ªand a wicker basket overflowing with vibrant fruits, the apples gleaming ruby-red, oranges like captured suns, grapes plump and inviting.


    "The gifts are ready, sir," Vera announced, her tone crisp and assured.


    Rafael¡¯s clouded gaze shifted to Eliana, a question in his expression. "Do you think they¡¯re worthy of your father?"


    Eliana¡¯s lips curved into a slow smile, awe shimmering in her voice. "Worthy? They¡¯re beyond worthy."


    "Perfect," Rafael said, his voice approving. "Thank you, Vera."


    The maid beamed faintly before retreating, and soon, they were ushered to the waiting ck SUV, its tinted windows reflecting the mansion¡¯s imposing facade like a dark mirror.


    Inside the car, as the engine purred to life and the vehicle glided down the winding driveway, Eliana¡¯s stomach twisted into knots. The leather seats cradled her slender frame, butfort eluded her. Sitting beside Rafael like this¡ªhim in his crisp designer suit, exuding quiet power even in his vulnerability¡ªfelt intimate, awkward, charged with an electricity she couldn¡¯t name. His sudden niceness wrapped around her like a gold chain, pulling her closer while whispering warnings in her ear. ¡¯He¡¯s nning something,¡¯ a suspicious voice nagged in her mind. ¡¯People like him don¡¯t change overnight.¡¯ But she scolded herself silently: ¡¯People can change. Even Rafael Vexley. Give him a chance.¡¯


    Rafael, sensing her tension perhaps through the subtle shift in her breathing, broke the silence first. "So, Eliana," he began, his voice casual yet probing, "tell me more about your father. What¡¯s he like?"


    She turned to him, her brown eyes softening at the mention of Frank. "He¡¯s... everything to me. Kind, wise, always putting others first. Even when Mom left us, he never spoke a bad word about her. He worked himself to the bone as a garbage man back then, just to keep food on the table. Now, with his illness..." Her voice trailed off, emotion thickening her throat.


    Rafael nodded, his unfocused gaze directed out the window, though he absorbed every nuance. "Sounds like a man worth knowing. Strong, like you. What does he enjoy? Books? Music?"


    Eliana smiled faintly, pushing the suspicion deeper into the recesses of her mind. "Books, definitely. Old ssics¡ªDickens, Twain. And he loves jazz. Used to hum it while gardening, saying it made the flowers bloom brighter." She chuckled softly, the sound light and genuine, easing the knot in her stomach just a bit.


    Heughed¡ªa low, rumbling sound that surprised her with its warmth. "Jazz and flowers. Noted. Maybe next time, I¡¯ll bring a vinyl record. Something vintage, to match his spirit."


    The conversation flowed then, mini threads weaving through the drive. "What¡¯s your favorite memory with him?" Rafael asked next, his tone inviting, as if peeling backyers of her world.


    Eliana leaned back, her voice heartfelt. "Summers in our tiny backyard. He¡¯d push me on a rickety swing he built himself, telling stories about far-off ces. Even when we had nothing, he made it feel like everything."


    "That¡¯s beautiful," Rafael replied, a hint of envy creeping into his voice, though he masked it with sarcasm. "My childhood memories involve hospitals and backstabbing rtives. Not exactly swing-set material."


    Sheughed, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. "Well, maybe you need a swing in that massive garden of yours. Could loosen up that CEO stiffness."


    He arched an eyebrow, amusement twinkling in his eyes despite the pretense. "Are you calling me stiff, Miss Bet? Careful¡ªI might make you push me on it."


    Their banter continued, light and teasing, as the cityscape blurred past¡ªskyscrapers giving way to quieter streets lined with blooming jacarandas. Eliana replied wholeheartedly, her words flowing freely, the suspicion fading like morning mist under the sun of his unexpected charm. By the time they arrived at the hospital, a sprawling modern building with ss facades reflecting the blue sky, she felt a tentative ease settling over her.


    Eliana guided Rafael through the bustling lobby, her good hand lightly on his wheelchair¡¯s handle, navigating past nurses in scrubs and patients shuffling with IV poles. The sterile scent of antiseptic mingled with the faint floral aroma from the bouquet she carried. "This way," she murmured, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.


    At the door to the VIP room, Rafael paused. "Eliana," he said softly, "would it be alright if I go in and say hi to your father? I don¡¯t want to intrude, but... I¡¯d like to meet him."


    She stared at him, shock rippling through her like a wave. Rafael Vexley, wanting to meet her frail father? "I... uh, sure. Okay," she stammered, her heart pounding as she helped maneuver his chair through the door.


    The room was a haven of quiet luxury¡ªsoft beige walls, arge window overlooking a garden, machines beeping rhythmically like a gentle heartbeat. Frank Bety in the bed, looking far better than before: color had returned to his weathered face, his greying hair neatlybed, gentle dark eyes alert and energetic. Tubes snaked from his arms, but he sat propped up, a book open on hisp.


    When his eyesnded on Eliana, a radiant smile broke across his face, crinkling the corners like well-worn leather. "Eliana! My girl!" But as his gaze shifted to Rafael, curiosity furrowed his brow. "And who¡¯s this?"


    Eliana rolled Rafael¡¯s chair closer to the bed, her own smile the biggest she¡¯d worn in days, beaming with pure joy. "Dad! Oh, it¡¯s so good to see you looking stronger." She leaned in, careful of her sling, and hugged him gently, inhaling the familiar scent of soap and earth that always clung to him.


    Frank hugged her back, his voice warm but puzzled. "I¡¯m doing alright, sweetheart. Feeling more like myself today. But what¡¯s with the sling? What happened to your hand?"


    Before Eliana could respond, Rafael interjected smoothly, his voiceced with feigned remorse. "That would be my fault, Mr. Bet. Eliana was helping me with my wheelchair the day before yesterday, and she took a tumble. I¡¯m truly sorry¡ªI¡¯ve been the cause of her pain."


    Eliana¡¯s mouth hung open, a gasp caught in her throat. He was taking the me for her car ident? Twisting the truth like a pretzel?


    Rafael extended a hand toward Frank, his posture impable. "I¡¯m Rafael Vexley, by the way. Eliana¡¯s friend."


    Her eyes widened further, nearly bulging. Friend? When had that happened? "Actually, Dad," she cut in quickly, "he¡¯s my employer. Mr. Vexley hired me as his caregiver."


    Frank¡¯s face transformed into one of profound gratitude, his gentle eyes shining. "Mr. Vexley, I can¡¯t thank you enough. For taking care of my needs here in the hospital, and for giving my daughter a job. You¡¯re a godsend."


    Rafael shook his head humbly. "No thanks necessary, Mr. Bet. It¡¯s my pleasure. Truly."


    Eliana busied herself then, cing the vibrant roses into a vase on the bedside table¡ªtheir petals unfurling like secrets¡ªand setting the fruit basket nearby, the fruits¡¯ colors popping against the sterile white.


    As she returned, she caught the tail end of Frank¡¯s words to Rafael. "...and I can see you¡¯ve been dealt a tough hand by the world, son. Blindness¡ªit¡¯s not fair. But look at you, still out here being kind, helping folks like us. You¡¯re a beautiful soul, Mr. Vexley. The earth will reward you for that heart of yours."


    Rafael¡¯s response was humble, his voice soft and sincere¡ªor so it seemed. "I¡¯m just happy to help whenever I can, Mr. Bet. Hearing theughter of people around me... it makes my heart happy. Fills the darkness with light, in a way."


    Eliana¡¯s mouth hung open again, disbelief crashing over her like ocean waves Rafael Vexley, pretending to be the kindest man alive? They both knew he was the opposite¡ªcold, calcting, a puppet master pulling strings from the shadows. Yet here he was, his pure smile gleaming like polished bullshit, suspending her heart in mid-air. When she looked at him, that facade cracking just enough to reveal... what? Vulnerability? Deception? She didn¡¯t know what to make of it, her emotions a tangled storm of hope, wariness, and something dangerously close to affection.

 Chapter 46: A Good Day Gone Bad

    <h4>Chapter 46: A Good Day Gone Bad</h4>


    Eliana and Rafael had lingered in Frank¡¯s hospital room for nearly four hours, trading quiet conversation and asionalughter with the old man. She¡¯d been grateful before, but this... this was different. Rafael hadn¡¯t owed her a second of his time, yet he¡¯d stayed¡ªpatient, present¡ªfor her and her father, even when the only thing tying them together on paper was an employer¡¯s signature.


    By the time the sleek ck SUV slid away from the hospital¡¯s ss-and-steel facade, the afternoon light had softened into a golden haze. Eliana sat beside him in the spacious back, her arm cradled in its sling, while Rafael lounged in his wheelchair with the ease of someone unbothered by the world¡¯s opinions. The hum of the engine filled the silence, but it wasn¡¯t the same silence they¡¯d shared before.


    Something had shifted¡ªsomething unspoken, weightless yet undeniable. It hung in the air between them like thest warm breeze before winter. Eliana¡¯s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, but behind it, questions stirred restlessly in her mind, tumbling over one another like autumn leaves chasing the wind.


    Eliana turned to Rafael, her brown eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You know, Mr. Vexley," she began, her voice soft but teasing, "you¡¯re quite the actor. The way you yed the humble, heartfelt phnthropist back there with my dad... it was Oscar-worthy."


    Rafael¡¯s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and then¡ªto her utter surprise¡ªa deep, rumblingugh escaped him, filling the car like thunder rolling across a clear sky. It was the first time she¡¯d heard himugh so freely, without the sharp edge of sarcasm. He tilted his head toward her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "An actor, am I? Well, Miss Bet, I¡¯ll take that as apliment. But let me set the record straight: everything I said to your father was true. I do love hearing peopleugh. It fills the darkness with light, as I told him. The only catch is... they have to do it on the inside, where no one can see."


    Eliana blinked, processing his words, and then she burst intoughter herself¡ªuncontrolled, heartfelt peals that made her shoulders shake and her good hand clutch her side. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gasped for breath. "On the inside? Oh, Rafael, that¡¯s ridiculous! You¡¯re impossible. How canughter fill anything if it¡¯s trapped inside like that?"


    He chuckled again, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "See? You¡¯reughing now, and it¡¯s lighting up this whole car. Mission aplished."


    Theirughter faded into afortable silence as the car wound through the city streets, but Eliana¡¯s mind raced. She nced at him, her expression turning thoughtful. "Speaking of missions... don¡¯t you have to go to work today? You¡¯re the CEO of half the world, aren¡¯t you? Won¡¯t your empire crumble without you?"


    Rafael waved a dismissive hand, his tone casual yetmanding. "No, not today. Thepany can survive one day without me micromanaging every detail. Honestly, Eliana, I feel like rxing for once. No board meetings, no scheming rtives¡ªjust a quiet afternoon. It¡¯s... liberating."


    She nodded, a soft smile ying on her lips. "Liberating. I like the sound of that."


    By the time they arrived at Rafael¡¯s sprawling mansion the sun hung low. Eliana helped guide his wheelchair up the ramp, her touch gentle on the handles. Once inside the grand foyer, with its crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead and the faint scent of polished wood lingering in the air, she paused and turned to him.


    "Rafael," she said, her voice earnest,ced with a hint of guilt, "as your caregiver, is there anything I can do for you right now? I mean, ever since I started this job, I haven¡¯t really done any work. You¡¯ve given me so much¡ªpaying for Dad¡¯s treatment, this ce to stay¡ªand I feel ufortable just taking without giving back. I want to return your kindness with hard work. Please, let me help."


    He regarded her for a moment, his chiseled jaw tightening slightly as if weighing his words. Then, his voice softened, carrying a vulnerability she hadn¡¯t heard before. "Eliana, I appreciate that more than you know. Truth is, I can manage most of my... problems on my own. The day-to-day stuff? I¡¯ve got it covered. But I do need a caregiver for the harder parts¡ªthe ones that remind me of my limitations. And right now, there¡¯s only one thing I¡¯ve always wanted to do, but I never had the right person for it."


    Her brows furrowed in curiosity, her heart skipping a beat at the intimacy in his tone. "What is it? Tell me, and I¡¯ll do my best."


    A yful smirk tugged at his lips. "I¡¯ve always wanted to watch a movie with someone who could describe it to me, word for word. Every scene, every expression, every little detail. No one¡¯s ever had the patience¡ªor the heart¡ªfor it."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened in surprise; she hadn¡¯t expected something so simple, so human, from a man like him. But warmth flooded her chest, chasing away the shadows of her doubts. "A movie? I... I didn¡¯t expect that, but of course. I¡¯d love to. I¡¯ll do my best to paint it all for you."


    With that, they headed to the kitchen. Eliana insisted on making popcorn herself, waving off the maids with a determined smile. "No, no, I can handle this. It¡¯s just popcorn¡ªhow hard can it be? Besides, I don¡¯t want to bother anyone when I can do it myself."


    Rafael, still in his wheelchair, rolled closer, his athletic frame leaning forward with interest. "Let me help. Since one of your hands is in that sling, my hands can be yours. And your eyes... well, they¡¯ll be mine."


    Sheughed, a light, melodic sound that echoed off the walls. "Deal. Okay, first, grab the kernels from that cab¡ªyes, there. Now, pour them into the pot. Careful, not too many!"


    As they worked together, the kitchen filled with the sizzle of oil heating and the pop-pop-pop of kernels exploding into fluffy white clouds. Rafael¡¯s strong hands followed her directions precisely, but not without mishaps¡ªa spill here, a burnt batch there¡ªthat had them both dissolving into giggles. "See? Told you I needed your eyes," he teased, wiping a streak of butter from his cheek. "Without them, I¡¯d be lost in a sea of chaos."


    Eliana shook her head, her long hair swaying. "And without your hands, I¡¯d be juggling one-armed. We¡¯re a team, I guess."


    The fun lingered like the buttery aroma as they finished, piling the popcorn into a massive bowl sprinkled with salt, then they left the kitchen. Eliana then helped Rafael out of his wheelchair, her good arm supporting his feigned unsteady steps as they moved to the couch in the opulent home theater room. Plush leather seats reclined under dimmed lights, and a massive screen dominated one wall, surrounded by speakers that promised immersive sound. Rafael picked a movie at random from his voice-activated system¡ªa romanticedy titled "Love in the Mix," about a clumsy baker and a uptight executive who swap lives.


    As the opening credits rolled, Eliana settled beside him, the bowl between them. She began narrating with enthusiasm, her voice vivid and animated. "Okay, the scene opens in a bustling city bakery. There¡¯s flour everywhere¡ªwhite dust on the counters, the floor. The heroine, Mia, is kneading dough, her apron smeared with chocte. She¡¯s got this frustrated look, muttering to herself about a bad date. Now, cut to the hero, Jack, in a sleek office, yelling into his phone about a merger gone wrong. He¡¯s pacing, tie askew, looking all stressed and handsome."


    Rafael listened intently, his head tilted as if absorbing every word, though his sharp eyes¡ªhidden behind the pretense¡ªtook in the screen fully. He munched on popcorn, asionally chuckling at her descriptions. "Word for word, huh? You¡¯re nailing it. Tell me, what¡¯s Mia¡¯s expression when she drops the cake?"


    Eliana leaned in, her tone dramatic. "Oh, it¡¯s priceless¡ªeyes wide like saucers, mouth open in horror as the three-tiered masterpiece sts on the floor in slow motion. Frosting flies everywhere, hitting a customer in the face. And Jack? He¡¯s just stormed into the bakery by mistake, and now he¡¯s covered in pink icing, ring daggers."


    Theirughter mingled with the film¡¯s soundtrack, the room alive with shared joy. Rafael¡¯s sarcasm softened into genuine amusement, his walls cracking further with each quip. "Sounds like my kind of chaos. Keep going¡ªdon¡¯t miss a beat."


    Hours slipped by in a haze of giggles and gasps, Eliana¡¯s narrations growing more borate, infused with her own emotional ir. "Now they¡¯re dancing in the rain, twirling under streetlights. Mia¡¯sughing, her wet hair stered to her face, and Jack¡¯s finally smiling¡ªreally smiling¡ªfor the first time. It¡¯s so romantic, Rafael. You can feel the spark."


    He nodded, a soft sigh escaping him. "I can picture it perfectly, thanks to you."


    But as the movie hit a lull, Eliana¡¯s throat grew parched. "Pause for a second," she said, standing. "I need more fizzy drinks for us. That popcorn¡¯s salty. Be right back¡ªdon¡¯t let the plot twist without me!"


    She hurried to the kitchen, her steps light, but froze in the doorway. There, by the spice rack, stood Celina Vexley¡ªRafael¡¯s spoiled stepsister, her morous blonde hair tied back, designer jeans hugging her lithe frame¡ªand a maid, both hunched over jars of herbs and powders. Their hands moved furtively, mixing something into a small vial. The air smelled oddly sharp, like mingled cinnamon and something metallic.


    When they noticed Eliana, Celina jumped, her blue eyes widening in shock, the vial ttering to the counter. The maid gasped, stepping back like a deer in headlights.


    "What... what are you doing here?" Celina snapped, recovering quickly, her voice dripping with venom. She straightened, crossing her arms over her sequined top.


    Eliana frowned, ncing at the spices. "I just came for drinks. What are you two up to? It looks... suspicious."


    Celina¡¯s face twisted into a sneer, her entitlement ring like a match. "Suspicious? Please. This is my house, peasant. What are you still doing here, anyway? Hasn¡¯t Rafael finished sleeping with you yet? I figured he¡¯d kick you out by now, like the trash you are."


    The words hit Eliana like a p, igniting a fire in her chest. Her warm brown skin flushed with anger, her expressive eyes narrowing. "Excuse me? How dare you talk to me like that! I¡¯m not some toy, and Rafael isn¡¯t like that. You have no right¡ª"


    Celina¡¯s hand flew out, cracking across Eliana¡¯s cheek with a sharp sting that echoed in the kitchen. Pain bloomed hot and immediate, but fury overrode it. Eliana¡¯s naive trust shattered in that moment, reced by the quiet strength she¡¯d always carried. Without thinking, she swung back, her good hand connecting with Celina¡¯s wless cheek in a resounding p.


    "You bitch!" Celina shrieked, lunging forward, nails wing at Eliana¡¯s hair.


    Eliana dodged, grabbing Celina¡¯s wrist, the two tumbling into a frenzy of pushes and pulls. Pots ttered to the floor, spices scattering like confetti as they grappled, breaths ragged, voices hurling insults. "Get off me!" Eliana yelled, her sling hampering her but not her resolve. The maid fled, screaming for help, as the fight escted into a whirlwind of drama.

 Chapter 47: Square One Again

    <h4>Chapter 47: Square One Again</h4>


    The home theater was dim, the glow from the frozen movie scene catching on Rafael Vexley¡¯s sharp features. Mia and Jack¡¯s rain-soaked dance was stuck mid-spin on the massive screen, the moment hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence. The smell of popcorn still lingered, faint and buttery, from the bowl cooling on the table beside him.


    Rafael leaned back into the plush leather couch, letting himself sink in, ying the part of the man who couldn¡¯t move or see. Ten minutes had passed since Eliana had left to grab more soda¡ªway too long for a quick kitchen run. His thoughts started to turn. What if she¡¯d tripped, her arm in that sling making her clumsy? What if she¡¯d dropped a ss, and it shattered across the marble like sharp little usations? The idea nagged at him, unsettling in a way he didn¡¯t like to admit.


    Rafael let out a sigh that sounded more annoyed than concerned, then pushed himself toward the wheelchair waiting at the edge of the room. His hands gripped the armrests, lifting himself into the seat with the smooth, practiced motion of someone who¡¯d done it a thousand times¡ªstill keeping up the act of being weak.


    He was about to roll out, the chair gliding quietly toward the door, when quick footsteps rushed in from the hall. ra appeared¡ªdark hair pulled into a neat bun, uniform still perfectly pressed even at thiste hour. She stopped in the doorway, chest rising fast, her kind eyes pulled tight with worry.


    "Mr. Vexley!" she eximed, her voice breathless, making sure to announce herself as she always did, respecting his blindness. "It¡¯s ra, sir. Oh, heavens, you need to know¡ªMiss Eliana and Miss Celina are fighting in the kitchen! It¡¯s chaos down there!"


    Rafael¡¯s steel-grey eyes, shed with fury. His jaw clenched, chiseled features hardening into a mask of controlled rage. "Fighting?" he repeated, his voice low and thunderous, like the rumble before a storm. Without another word, he propelled the wheelchair forward, wheels humming against the polished marble as he rolled swiftly toward the kitchen, his mind racing ahead to the scene of violence that awaited.


    The kitchen came into view, but instead of the calm hum it usually held, it pulsed with chaos¡ªsharp grunts, high-pitched shrieks, and the metallic ng of utensils hitting tile. Rafael stormed through the doorway, his presence cutting through the noise like a sudden shadow blotting out the sun.


    The scene was a storm in motion. Spicesy scattered across the floor, fine powders drifting in the air like strange winter snow. In the middle of it, Celina was on top of Eliana, all tangled fury¡ªher once-perfect blonde waves now a wild mane, eyes zing, nails shing like ws.


    Eliana, her warm brown skin gleaming with effort, fought back with every ounce of strength she could muster. Her good hand shoved, twisted, pushed¡ªanything to create space¡ªwhile the other arm, bound in a sling, dangled uselessly. But even hobbled, her determination was unshakable, burning hotter than the chaos around her.


    "What the hell is going on here?"


    Rafael¡¯s voice cracked through the chaos¡ªdeep, steady, and sharp enough to slice the frenzy clean in half. The sound hit like a st of ice water, jolting the room into stillness.


    Celina jerked back as if pulled by invisible strings, scrambling off Eliana. Her sequined top was twisted, one strap slipping off her shoulder, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.


    Eliana pressed herself against the counter, catching her bnce. Her eyes¡ªwide, fierce, and still burning¡ªlocked on Celina, though pain glimmered just beneath the surface. A fresh red welt zed across her cheek, the sting of Celina¡¯s earlier p written in skin.


    Rafael didn¡¯t turn his head toward Celina, maintaining his blind facade, but his tone dripped with ice. "Celina, why are you in my kitchen? How many times have I warned you¡ªand everyone in your family¡ªto stay out of my wing of the house? This is my space. Mine."


    Celina straightened, tossing her hair back with a dramatic ir, her blue eyes glistening with feigned tears. "Oh,e on, Rafael! You¡¯re my brother¡ªfamily! Is it a crime to visit? To check on you?" Her voice cracked artfully, sobs bubbling up as she pointed usingly at Eliana. "She attacked me! That little peasant came at me like a wild animal! I was just... just mixing some tea, and she lost it!"


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, the words trembling on the edge of fury. Her long curls were a wild halo around her face, strands sticking where sweat had kissed her skin during the scuffle. She pushed off the counter, her slender frame quivering¡ªnot from fear, but from the rush of indignation coursing through her.


    "That¡¯s a lie, Rafael!" Her voice cracked through the air, raw and sharp. "She called me names¡ªtrash, a toy for you to use and toss aside! She pped me first! I was defending myself!" Her chest rose with each breath, the words tumbling out in a storm. "And besides... she wasn¡¯t mixing tea, she was¡ª"


    "Enough!" Rafael snapped, his sarcasm sharpening into a weapon. "Both of you, shut it. Celina, get out. Go back to your own wing of the mansion. Now."


    Celina¡¯s face contorted in fury, her entitled pout twisting into a snarl. She stomped her designer heel against the floor, the echo sharp and petnt. "Fine! But you¡¯ll regret this, siding with her over family!" With a final re at Eliana, she whirled and stormed out, her footsteps fading like a retreating tempest.


    Eliana turned to Rafael, her voice softening,ced with urgency. "Rafael, please, let me exin¡ª"


    But he was already wheeling away, his wheelchair turning sharply as anger propelled him out of the kitchen. The hallway blurred past him, opulent walls lined with abstract art that he could see perfectly but pretended not to. Eliana¡¯s lighter steps followed, hesitant yet persistent, her sneakers whispering against the floor.


    He rolled straight into his study, towards the massive oak desk dominating the center like a throne. The room smelled of aged paper and faint cigar smoke. Shelves lined with leather-bound books loomed around him, the dimmps spilling soft light over the intricate patterns of the Persian rug. Rafael eased into position behind the desk, his fingers curling around the armrests. He let his expression settle into calm control, masking the sharp focus behind his "unseeing" eyes.


    Eliana slipped in quietly behind him, closing the heavy door with a soft click. She stood there for a moment, her face shadowed by her emotions, before the words tumbled out in a rush of apology. "Rafael, I¡¯m so sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have engaged Miss Celina in a fight. It was wrong¡ªI know that. Please, forgive me."


    Rafael¡¯s head snapped up, his piercing eyes¡ªstill hidden in pretense¡ªburning with frustration. He mmed a fist on the desk, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. "Sorry? Eliana, I have a certain way I run this household. Order. Control. And you bring your... your trashy lifestyle into it? Couldn¡¯t you keep that outside these walls? Resorting to violence at every provocation? Fighting with Celina¡ªthat was the most stupid thing you could ever do in your life. I¡¯m disappointed in you. Deeply."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched, her brown eyes widening as if the words had pped her harder than any hand could. They pierced straight through the fragile hope she¡¯d been nursing all day, splintering it into pieces. Before Rafael, she had been a quieter version of herself¡ªcalm, contained, swallowing insults like they were bitter medicine she¡¯d grown used to. That silence had been her shield, but it was the kind that let knives slip through. And they had¡ªover and over¡ªeach betrayal cutting deeper than thest.


    She¡¯d promised herself she¡¯d never be that girl again. With nothing left but her voice, she had vowed to fight back, even if her opponent towered over her, even if the odds were stacked to crush her. She would stand her ground.


    But Rafael¡¯s outburstnded like a cruel echo from the past. <i>Trashy lifestyle. </i>The words clung to her like oil, thick and suffocating. She could feel the sting in her eyes, the burn in her throat. In moments like this, it was hard not to believe the ugly truth she¡¯d tried to outrun¡ªthat no matter how hard she fought, the world was always ready to remind her she could never truly win.


    She thought he¡¯d changed, that the man who¡¯dughed with her over popcorn had softened his edges. Foolish, she chided herself inwardly. Just a fool. She bit her lip, refusing to dignify his rage with a retort. Instead, she straightened her modest blouse, her voice steady but quiet. "I¡¯m sorry for fighting with your sister." With that, she turned and left the room, her steps measured, the door closing behind her with a finality that echoed in the silence.


    Rafael sat in silence, the storm inside him slowly ebbing, anger receding like a tide slipping back into the depths. In its ce came regret¡ªa feeling that had crept into his life with rming frequency ever since Eliana had stepped into it. It twisted in his gut, sharp and insistent. He dragged a hand through his dark, wavy hair, releasing a sigh that felt heavier than it should.


    What Eliana didn¡¯t know¡ªwhat he couldn¡¯t bring himself to say¡ªwas that her fire, her refusal to bow, had just painted a bright red target on her back. His stepmother, Mirabel, and her venomous brood thrived on stamping out threats. They would see Eliana as just another obstacle to crush, and they never missed their mark.


    That was the truth that haunted him: the fear of losing the only person who had managed to melt even the smallest corner of his frozen heart. And it wouldn¡¯t be fate or distance that took her away¡ªit would be the danger swirling unseen around them, a web of deceit he couldn¡¯t yet reveal to her without destroying everything he hadid out.


    The study felt colder now, every detail around him sharper, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Somewhere in the stillness, Rafael searched for a way to bridge the gap between them¡ªwithout tearing down the careful walls he¡¯d built to keep her and himself safe.

 Chapter 48: It Can’t Be

    <h4>Chapter 48: It Can¡¯t Be</h4>


    Celina Vexley mmed through the ornate double doors of the east wing, the echo of her sobs carrying down the marble hall like shards of ss skittering across stone. Inside of the mansion was cool and perfumed with faint notes of white roses, yet it only made the burn in her chest feel sharper. The crystal chandeliers glittered above, each delicate prism throwing flecks of light along the gilded frames on the walls, as if mocking her with their untouched perfection.


    Her designer handbag was clutched tight to her chest, almost like it was the only thing holding her together. ck streaks of mascara traced uneven paths down her flushed cheeks, her breath hitching as she stumbled forward. Her heels¡ªtoo high for the pace she was moving¡ªclicked in an uneven rhythm on the polished floor, the sound copsing into a muffled thud as she stepped into the plush carpet of the sitting room.


    The room was the kind of space no one dared to truly live in¡ªluxurious sofas that looked barely sat on, antique vases resting in ss cabs like museum pieces. And there, drapednguidly across a chaise longue, was her mother, Mirabel Vexley.


    Mirabel¡¯s silk blouse caught the warm light, a faint shimmer rolling with every slight movement. Her pearl ne rested against her corbone, each bead glinting like frozen drops of moonlight against her smooth brown skin. She took one unhurried sip of her chilled champagne before lowering the ss with a soft, deliberate clink, her manicured fingers barely making a sound. Then she arched one perfect brow, a slow, practiced gesture that held equal parts elegance and quiet judgment.


    "Celina, darling, what on earth is the matter?" Mirabel¡¯s voice was smooth as butter butced with impatience, her icy blue eyes¡ªcontacts that hid her natural brown¡ªnarrowing as she rose to her full,manding height. She smoothed her immactely styled bob, the strands catching the light like polished obsidian. "You¡¯re making a spectacle of yourself. Sit down andpose yourself before you ruin that mascara entirely."


    Celina copsed onto the nearest sofa, her body heaving with dramatic sobs. She fanned herself with one hand, the other gesturing wildly. "Oh, Mom! It¡¯s awful! That... that wretched girl, Eliana¡ªRafael¡¯s so-called caregiver¡ªshe assaulted me! Right there in his kitchen! I was just trying to be nice, mixing some tea, and she came at me like a feral cat! Scratched and shoved me!"


    Mirabel¡¯s expression shifted from mild annoyance to a flicker of intrigue, her lips pursing into a thin line. She crossed the room in measured steps, her heels clicking with authority. "Assaulted you? That little nobody? Tell me everything, Celina. From the beginning."


    Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Celina straightened up, her voice pitching higher with each word, fueling the drama. "I went over to Rafael¡¯s wing¡ªjust to check on him, you know, family and all. And there she was, that peasant girl, acting like she owns the ce. I told her the truth¡ªthat she¡¯s nothing but trash, a toy for Rafael to y with until he gets bored. And she lost it! pped me first, Mom! Me! Then Rafael shows up, and do you know what he did? He sided with her! Told me to get out, like I was the intruder. His own sister!"


    Mirabel¡¯s face hardened, her elegant features twisting into a mask of fury. She paced the room, her silk skirt swishing like a whisper of impending storm. "Sided with her? Over you? That blind fool, he¡¯s always been a thorn in my flesh. But to let some low-ss caregivery hands on my daughter? Uneptable. He¡¯s forgetting who holds the real power in this family." Her voice dropped to a venomous hiss, eyes zing. "We¡¯ve tolerated his games long enough. This ends now."


    Celina nodded vigorously, her sobs subsiding into sniffles as she fed off her mother¡¯s rage. "Exactly! She¡¯s poisoning him against us. We have to do something, Mom. Make her pay."


    Mirabel whirled toward the door, her posture ramrod straight, exuding the cold authority of a queen dethroned but plotting her return. "Oh, we will. Come with me, darling. We¡¯re marching right over to his precious wing and demanding answers. No one touches a Vexley and gets away with it¡ªespecially not some street rat."


    Celina scrambled to her feet, a gleeful spark igniting in her eyes beneath the feigned hurt. "Yes! Let¡¯s show them who¡¯s in charge."


    They stormed out together, Mirabel leading the charge like a general on the battlefield, her heels echoing a battle drum through the mansion¡¯s vast halls. The east wing blurred into the central atrium, where grand staircases spiraled upward, and then into Rafael¡¯s secluded west wing. Servants scattered like leaves in the wind, whispering among themselves as the duo passed.


    Not even ten minutes had passed since Eliana stormed out of Rafael¡¯s study, but her pulse was still hammering as if she¡¯d run a mile. The words he¡¯d thrown at her¡ª"trashy lifestyle"¡ªclung to her like burrs, sharp and impossible to shake off. They hadn¡¯t just stung; they had cut deep, had sliced through her heart, reopening old wounds she thought she¡¯d bandaged.


    She shoved her bedroom door shut, the echo bouncing off the high ceilings, and began pacing across the soft carpet. The luxury under her feet felt almost insulting in that moment, as iffort itself were mocking her hurt. Her slender frame trembled with the effort of holding back tears, her warm brown eyes ssy with the ones she refused to let fall.


    Loose strands of her long ck hair tumbled forward, framing her face in messy waves, matching the whirlwind in her mind. "How could he say that?" she muttered under her breath, the words breaking on the edges of disbelief. She sank onto the edge of her bed, her shoulders folding in as if trying to shield her own heart.


    "After the day we had... after everything... I thought he finally understood me." Her voice was softer now, the fight draining from it, leaving only the ache. "I thought he really saw me."


    A sharp knock interrupted her turmoil. The door creaked open, revealing a young maid named L, her uniform crisp but her expression anxious. "Miss Eliana? There¡¯s... trouble downstairs. Celina¡¯s mother, Mrs. Vexley, she¡¯s in the living room, yelling for you and Mr. Rafael toe face her. She¡¯s causing quite a scene."


    Eliana sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. Of course. She had expected something like this¡ªthe entitled never let slights go unanswered. "I was stupid to think Celina would just slink away," she whispered, more to herself than to L. Rising with a resigned grace, she smoothed her modest blouse and jeans, the worn fabric a reminder of her roots. "Alright. Lead the way. Let¡¯s get this over with."


    L nodded nervously and guided her through the luxurious hallway, the air growing thicker with tension. Meanwhile, in his study, Rafael sat brooding behind the massive oak desk, regret gnawed at him, his eyes¡ªsharp and seeing¡ªstared unseeingly at the wall. He dragged a hand through his dark wavy hair, exhaling sharply. "Damn it, Eliana. I didn¡¯t mean..." His thoughts trailed off as another knock sounded.


    ra poked her head in, her face pale. "Mr. Vexley, sir? Mrs. Mirabel Vexley is here¡ªin the living room. She¡¯s... well, causing a scene. Demanding to see you and Miss Eliana. It¡¯s about Celina."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, his calcting mind racing. This was escting faster than he¡¯d anticipated. "Of course she is," he muttered sarcastically, wheeling his chair around with practiced ease. "Can¡¯t have a day without family drama. I¡¯ll handle it." He propelled himself out, determined to deescte before things spiraled further, his athletic build tense beneath the crisp designer shirt.


    But Eliana arrived first. She stepped into the sprawling living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows framed the twilight gardens, and crystal vases held wilting roses that seemed to echo the room¡¯s fragile peace. Mirabel stood in the center, arms crossed, hermanding presence dominating the space like a storm cloud. Celina hovered behind her, smirking triumphantly.


    Eliana stopped dead in her tracks, every muscle locking in ce. Her brown eyes widened, her mouth g, and the air in her lungs turned heavy and strange. The world seemed to tip sideways, voices fading to a dull hum as the truth hit her like a speeding truck.


    That face.


    Smooth brown skin. Regal posture. Eyes like winter.


    It was her.


    The woman who had walked out on Eliana and her father, Frank, leaving them to w through the dust of poverty while she chased a life lined with gold.


    Now she stood here as Mirabel Vexley¡ªthe untouchable queen of this empire.


    Eliana¡¯s heart pounded so loud it drowned the silence. Her lips parted, her voice cracked


    "Mama? No... it can¡¯t be."


    Celina pointed usingly, her voice shrill and victorious. "There she is, Mom! That¡¯s the one¡ªEliana, the caregiver. She¡¯s the peasant who assaulted me! Look at her, acting all innocent now."


    Mirabel¡¯s gaze locked onto Eliana, her expression a mix of disdain and curiosity. She moved forward, each step deliberate, her heels clicking like ticking bombs. Eliana saw it all in slow motion¡ªthe sway of Mirabel¡¯s pearls, the re of her nostrils, the ghost of a past life flickering in those eyes. All Eliana could think was: It¡¯s her. My mother. The one who left us broken, who chose gold over love. How? Why here, now?


    Before Eliana could process, before words could form, Mirabel reached her. "You darey hands on my daughter?" Mirabel snarled, her voice a whip crack. Her hand flew up, connecting with Eliana¡¯s cheek in a stinging p that echoed through the room. The impact sent Eliana staggering, her warm brown skin blooming red, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.


    And that was when Rafael wheeled into the doorway, his eyes widening in horror as he witnessed the blow. Time seemed to freeze, the air thick with betrayal, shock, and the unspoken secrets that bound them all in chains.

 Chapter 49: Unrecognized and Unrepentant

    <h4>Chapter 49: Unrecognized and Unrepentant</h4>


    Rafael¡¯s wheelchair moved smoothly across the polished marble, the faint hum of the wheels echoing in the heavy silence. He stopped squarely between Eliana and Mirabel Vexley, his presence a wall of defiance despite the chair that carried him. His grey eyes burned with anger, sharp and unyielding, locking on the woman who dared to strike Eliana.


    The room itself seemed to hold its breath. The roses in the crystal vases, once proud and fragrant, now sagged as if bowing to the tension pressing down on everything.


    Eliana stood motionless, shock rooting her to the spot. Her cheek still stung where Mirabel¡¯s hand hadnded, the heat of it spreading like a cruel reminder. Her wide brown eyes shimmered with disbelief and hurt, as if she couldn¡¯t quite process that the ghost she thought she¡¯d left buried in her past had just reached out and struck her in the present.


    Mirabel¡¯s towering figure loomed like a shadow from another life¡ªelegant, cold, and unshaken¡ªher presence a cruel mirror of the abandonment and betrayal Eliana had tried so hard to outrun.


    "Mirabel." Rafael¡¯s voice thundered through the room, deep andmanding, the kind of tone that left no room for misunderstanding. Anger simmered beneath every word, held back only by sheer restraint. "What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing? You storm into my house¡ªmy house¡ªlike some entitled tyrant, and then you have the audacity toy your hand on her? On my caregiver? Have youpletely lost your damn mind?"


    The words cracked through the silence like a whip, but Mirabel only tilted her chin, unshaken. Her cold blue eyes slid to him, narrowing into slits as she smoothed down the front of her silk blouse. The soft clink of her pearl ne echoed like an insult in the stillness, as if the violence she had justmitted was nothing more than an afterthought¡ªlike brushing away a fly.


    "Oh, Rafael, please," she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. A cruel smile tugged at her painted lips. "Spare me the theatrics. You¡¯ve always had a ir for dramatics, but this¡ªthis righteous act¡ªit¡¯s almostughable."


    She turned sharply, her manicured finger stabbing toward Eliana, who flinched despite herself. Mirabel¡¯s eyes burned with venom. "Rafael, you took sides with this nobody," she spat, the wordnding like venom on the polished floor, "this pig who dared toy her hands on my daughter. Celina is a Vexley¡ªshe carries our blood, our name. And this¡ªthis filthy, low-born intruder¡ª" her words sharpened with each breath, "does not deserve to even stand in the same room, let alone breathe the same air."


    Her voice grew shriller, each usationced with poison. "She¡¯s nothing but a parasite,tching onto you, feeding off you, crawling her way into your life with her pathetic desperation. A street rat in a mansion no more, no less. And you let her disrespect Celina, you let her stand here as if she belongs? Are you serious Rafael?."


    She crossed her arms, her sneer widening. "Frankly, I should call the police this instant and have her dragged out for daring toy her grubby little hands on Celina. If anyone here should be humiliated, it¡¯s her."


    Eliana¡¯s world tilted on its axis, the words crashing over her like icy waves. Her mother¡ªher own mother¡ªstood there, hurling insults without a flicker of recognition in those cold eyes. How could her mother not recognize her? Eliana¡¯s mind raced back to the faded photographs her father, Frank, had kept hidden in a drawer, pulling them out on lonely nights to whisper stories of the woman who had abandoned them. Mirabel¡¯s face had been etched into Eliana¡¯s memory like a scar¡ªsmooth brown skin, regal posture, that same haughty tilt of the chin. But here, in the flesh, Mirabel saw only a stranger, a "low-born intruder." The irony twisted like a knife in Eliana¡¯s gut; the woman who had birthed her now spat venom at her as if she were dirt under her heels. Tears stung Eliana¡¯s eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them fall. This couldn¡¯t be real. It had to be a nightmare, a cruel hallucination born from the day¡¯s emotional wreckage.


    "You¡¯re the one acting disgraceful, Mirabel," Rafael shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his athletic frame tensing in the wheelchair as if ready to spring. "Storming in here like a scorned harpy, pping someone who¡¯s done nothing but care for me while you¡¯ve schemed behind my back. You¡¯re the worst thing that ever happened to this family¡ª a venomous snake who slithered in after my mother¡¯s death, poisoning everything you touch. You¡¯ve turned my siblings into entitled puppets, and now you think you can waltz in and y judge and executioner? Get out before I have you thrown out."


    Mirabel¡¯s eyes shed with rage, herposure cracking like fine china. "How dare you speak to me that way, you blind, crippled ingrate!" She raised her hand, swift and vicious, aiming a p at Rafael¡¯s chiseled jaw. But Rafael was faster¡ªhis pretense of blindness and paralysis didn¡¯t extend to his reflexes. His strong hand shot up, catching her wrist in a vise-like grip. With a forceful shove, he pushed her back, sending her stumbling a few steps on her high heels, her silk skirt fluttering wildly.


    "Mom!" Celina shrieked, rushing forward with feigned horror, her morous makeup streaked from earlier crocodile tears. She clutched at Mirabel¡¯s arm, ring daggers at Rafael. "You assaulted her! How could you? She¡¯s your stepmother, for God¡¯s sake! You¡¯re nothing but a monster!"


    Rafael chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of humor, his piercing eyes fighting hard not to re at her as he wheeled back slightly. "Assaulted her? Please, Celina. Mirabel assaulted herself by showing up here uninvited, stirring up trouble like the drama queen she is. If anyone¡¯s the monster, it¡¯s the pair of you¡ªsneaking around, plotting for scraps of an inheritance you don¡¯t deserve. Now, take your hysterics elsewhere before I really lose my temper."


    Throughout the exchange, Eliana stood rooted to the spot, her slender frame trembling as she absorbed the raw hatred radiating from Rafael. It wasn¡¯t just anger; it was a deep-seated loathing, forged in years of betrayal and family secrets. His voice, usually so calcting and controlled, now thrummed with unbridled fury, his dark wavy hair disheveled from running his hand through it earlier. She could see the scars he hid so well¡ªthe loneliness, the suspicion¡ªcracking open in this moment. But her own mind was a whirlwind. This has to be a dream, she thought desperately, over and over, like a mantra. My mother, here, in this mansion of lies, not even knowing who I am. The room spun, the floor-to-ceiling windows blurring into streaks of twilight. Her legs buckled beneath her, knees hitting the marble with a thud that echoed like thunder in her ears. Darkness swallowed her whole as she fainted, her body crumpling in a heap.


    Rafael heard the soft gasp and the dull thump before his eyes could fully register it¡ªEliana copsing like a log. Panic surged through him, his heart mming against his ribs. "Eliana!" he bellowed, wheeling toward her with frantic speed. "ra! L! Get in here now! Call an ambnce¡ªhurry!"


    The maids burst into the room, faces pale with rm. ra knelt beside Eliana, checking her pulse, while L fumbled for her phone, dialing emergency services with shaking hands.


    Mirabel watched the scene unfold with a scoff, her lips curling in disdain as she adjusted her pearls. "Pathetic," she sneered, her voiceced with mock pity. "Fainting like some fragile flower. What a weak little thing. I swear on my life, I¡¯ll deal with her properly¡ª she¡¯ll regret ever crossing a Vexley." She grabbed Celina¡¯s arm, yanking her toward the door. "Come on, darling. We¡¯ve wasted enough time on this farce." The two stormed out, heels clicking like retreating gunfire, leaving a trail of whispered servant gossip in their wake.


    Two hourster, Eliana stirred in the crisp white sheets of a private hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint beeps of monitors. Soft lighting created a gentle glow over the space, a far cry from the opulent chaos of the Vexley mansion. Her head throbbed, memories flooding back in disjointed fragments¡ªthe p, the recognition, the hatred. Rafael sat by her bedside, his wheelchair positioned close, his crisp designer suit rumpled from the wait. He had seen her eyelids flutter open moments ago, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift, but he maintained his pretense of blindness, staring slightly off to the side as if lost in thought.


    "Rafael?" Eliana whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking as she pushed herself up on her elbows. Her honey eyes searched his face, the emotional storm brewing anew. She needed to alert him, to break the silence, even as her mind raced with ns to escape this tangled web forever.


    He turned his head toward her voice, feigning surprise, his expression softening with genuine concern. "Eliana? You¡¯re awake. Thank God. How are you feeling? The doctors said it was likely shock and exhaustion, but I was worried sick."


    She swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes. "I... I¡¯m okay, I think. Just a bit dizzy. What happened? I remember... everything spinning."


    Rafael reached out, his hand hovering near hers before gently taking it, his touch warm and reassuring despite the secrets he harbored. "You fainted right there in the living room. Scared the hell out of me. I¡¯m so sorry, Eliana¡ªfor Mirabel¡¯s unruly behavior, for the way she treated you. She¡¯s a viper, always has been. I should have protected you better from that madness."


    Eliana nodded absently, her mind elsewhere. His apology washed over her, but it couldn¡¯t drown out the roar in her head. Leave. I have to leave this house for good. The revtion about Mirabel, it was all too much. How could she stay in a ce where her own mother reigned as the enemy, unrecognized and unrepentant? "It¡¯s... it¡¯s not your fault, Rafael," she murmured, pulling her hand away subtly. "But I need time. To think."


    He tilted his head, his eyes searching the air near her face. "Time? Of course. Whatever you need. Just know I¡¯m here. We can talk about it when you¡¯re ready."


    But Eliana¡¯s thoughts were already plotting her exit, the emotional walls she¡¯d let crack now rebuilding stronger than ever. The room felt smaller, the beeps of the monitor like a countdown to her freedom.


    She had to leave Rafael Vexley¡¯s house and life for good.

 Chapter 50: The Claws of The Wicked

    <h4>Chapter 50: The ws of The Wicked</h4>


    The private hospital room was too quiet, the kind of quiet that sat heavily on your chest. Machines beeped in the background, steady but cold, like they were reminding Eliana she was still here. She sat propped up against the pillows, eyes fixed on the pale curtains swaying slightly under the hum of the air conditioning. The ce smelled sharp with antiseptic, softened only by the faint trace of roses from the diffuser Rafael had insisted on bringing in¡ªhis way of trying to make this ce less unbearable.


    Rafael sat in his wheelchair right beside her, leaning forward like he¡¯d been there for hours without moving. His expensive suit had long since lost its sharpness, creased from waiting, but he didn¡¯t seem to care. His eyes weren¡¯t fixed directly on Eliana¡ªstill ying into the illusion of blindness¡ªbut every muscle in his body was tuned to her, listening to her breaths, watching for the tiniest shift in her hands or shoulders.


    "Eliana," his voice was low, rough around the edges with worry, "you¡¯ve barely said a word since you woke up. Talk to me. What¡¯s going on in that head of yours?"


    She blinked slowly, dragging her attention back from the curtain to him. A small smile tugged at her lips, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. Her dark curls slipped down around her shoulders, stark against the thin white gown. "I¡¯m fine, Rafael. Really. Just tired." Her voice cracked just a little, betraying her. "The doctors said it¡¯s just shock. Nothing serious."


    He reached out, his hand finding hers with unerring precision, as if guided by instinct rather than sight. His touch was warm, reassuring, but Eliana felt a pang in her chest¡ªa mix of guilt and resolve. How could she tell him the truth? That the woman he¡¯d just shoved away was her mother, the one who¡¯d abandoned her years ago for the very wealth that now poisoned this family? "You¡¯re not fine," Rafael pressed, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "I can hear it in your voice. It¡¯s like you¡¯re a million miles away. Is it because of what happened with Mirabel? That viper¡¯s words... they cut deep, I know. But you don¡¯t have to carry that alone."


    Eliana swallowed hard, her throat tight. "Maybe... a little. She was so cruel, Rafael. The way she looked at me, like I was nothing. It just... brought up old memories, I guess." Her voice cracked slightly, and she pulled her hand away, tucking it under the nket. Old memories indeed¡ªthe abandonment, the poverty, the endless nights wondering why her mother had left. But now, seeing Mirabel in the flesh, elegant and icy, it was a knife twist she couldn¡¯t bear.


    Rafael nodded slowly, his chiseled jaw tightening. "I understand. More than you know. That woman¡¯s poison has seeped into every corner of my life. But listen to me, Eliana¡ªyou¡¯re stronger than her theatrics. You¡¯ve got a fire in you that she could never extinguish." He paused, then reached into his suit pocket for his phone, his fingers deft despite the act. "I¡¯m calling James. He¡¯ll handle the bills and get you discharged. You need rest, real rest, back at the mansion. But if you want space... just say the word."


    Before she could respond, he activated the voicemand on his phone. "Call James."


    The line connected almost immediately, James¡¯s efficient voice crackling through the speaker. "Mr. Vexley? Is everything alright? How¡¯s Miss Bet?"


    "She¡¯s awake, James, but still shaken," Rafael replied, his tone shifting to themanding CEO he was. "I need you here at the hospital. Take care of the bills¡ªmake sure it¡¯s all settled discreetly. And prepare for discharge. I¡¯ll be stepping out for a bit while you handle it."


    "Of course, sir. I¡¯m on my way. ETA ten minutes."


    Rafael ended the call and turned back to Eliana, his expression softening again. "James is reliable. He¡¯ll sort everything. You just focus on getting your strength back." He leaned in, as if to kiss her forehead, but hesitated, sensing her withdrawal. "I¡¯ll give you some time alone. Fresh air might clear my head too. I¡¯m heading to the garden¡¯s just outside¡ªI¡¯ll be back soon."


    Eliana nodded, her heart aching as she watched him wheel himself toward the door. "Okay. Thank you, Rafael. For everything."


    He paused at the threshold, his broad shoulders tense. "It¡¯s my fault anyway. No thanks needed. You¡¯re... important to me, Eliana. More than you realize." With that, he maneuvered out, the door clicking shut behind him.


    Eliana had no clue what he meant by thest bit, but she was too drained to bother asking.


    Rafael rolled himself down the hospital corridor, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and stretching shadows across the floor. His chest felt tight, and not just from the air in the building¡ªit was Eliana. Something in her had changed. The warmth she usually carried, that quiet, stubborn smile that always kept her steady, was gone. She looked lost, almost hollow. He knew it had everything to do with Mirabel. That confrontation had been brutal¡ªwords sharp enough to draw blood¡ªand Eliana, with all her softness, had been dragged right into the middle of it.


    He needed to get out of that room. To breathe. To think.


    The hospital garden gave him that space. A small square of calm tucked between the walls, with roses pushing out their petals like they had something to prove, andvender bending in the breeze, sweetening the air. The fountain in the center bubbled quietly, scattering droplets that caught thete-afternoon sun. Rafael steered his chair toward it, stopping close enough to feel the cool mist on his skin. For a moment, he closed his eyes¡ªhis real eyes, the ones no one knew still worked¡ªand let himself pretend. Pretend he was just another man, just tired, just thinking.


    But quiet has a way of digging up what you try to bury. Memories pressed in, sharp and unwee. He couldn¡¯t stop his mind from going back. The first time Mirabel had tried to kill him¡ªit had been poison, hidden in the tea Mirabel had prepared for him. Days of pain, his body failing, his trust shattered. But the second time... that was worse. Because it wasn¡¯t just about survival. It was about betrayal. And betrayal, he realized, leaves a wound that never really closes.


    A few years ago, when Rafael was eighteen, his world was nothing but darkness. The car crash that stole his sight when he was nine had left him with a life that felt like one long night, a veil he could never lift. Back then, he depended on others for almost everything¡ªthings that once seemed so small, like finding the edge of a table or pouring a ss of water, suddenly felt impossible. His independence was gone, and it ate at him.


    That¡¯s when Ian showed up. He was Rafael¡¯s age, hired through some agency Mirabel had approved. On his first day, Ian¡¯sugh carried through the endless halls of the Vexley mansion, a sound so alive it almost didn¡¯t belong there.


    "Hey, Rafael," he¡¯d said brightly, guiding him to the breakfast table. "I¡¯m Ian. Don¡¯t worry, man¡ªI¡¯m not here to baby you. Think of me as your sidekick. We¡¯ll make this blindness thing a little less boring."


    Rafael had actuallyughed at that¡ªsomething he didn¡¯t do much back then. "Sidekick, huh? Just don¡¯t trip me on purpose. Tell me something real, Ian. Not the polished lies my family spins. What¡¯s the world like out there?"


    Ian didn¡¯t hesitate. He painted the world with words, filling Rafael¡¯s darkness with color. "The city¡¯s alive¡ªcars honking, skyscrapers wing at the clouds, vendors yelling about hot dogs that smell like heaven. And girls, man... there¡¯s this one at the coffee shop near my ce¡ªhair like fire, temper to match. You¡¯d like her. Feisty. Definitely your type."


    The two of them would talk for hours. Ian would describe sunsets Rafael couldn¡¯t see, teach him shortcuts with braille, or sneak contraband snacks into the mansion. One night in the library, Ian pressed something into his hand. "Here¡ªtry this chocte bar. It¡¯s got chili in it. Sweet and spicy, like life¡¯s supposed to be."


    Somewhere in thosete-night talks, Rafael found himself opening up. "You¡¯re the only one who doesn¡¯t treat me like a broken toy," he admitted quietly. "Everyone else... it feels like they¡¯re just waiting for me to fade out. But you¡ªyou¡¯re different. You¡¯re a friend. My best friend."


    "Yeah, man," Ian said softly, his voice carrying that easy warmth. "Best friends. We¡¯ll get through this darkness together."


    Eliana reminded Rafael of Ian¡ªso much it hurt. That same gentleness, that quiet resilience. But he knew how quickly Mirabel could take something pure and twist it into something unrecognizable. He¡¯d lived it once before, and the memory never stopped bleeding.


    The change in Ian hade like a slow frost. At first, it was barely there¡ªaugh that no longer rang as brightly, conversations that ended too quickly. One night, as Ian guided him to bed, Rafael finally asked, his voice breaking under the weight of worry.


    "Ian, what¡¯s happening to you? You¡¯ve been so far awaytely. Did I do something? Talk to me. We¡¯re friends... aren¡¯t we?"


    The answer came back hollow. "Nothing¡¯s wrong, Mr. Vexley. I¡¯m just doing my job. Employer and employee¡ªthat¡¯s all."


    The title sliced through Rafael¡¯s heart. "Mr. Vexley? Since when? Ian, please. If something¡¯s wrong, tell me. We can fix it."


    But Ian shut the door on him with a simple, final reply. "Nothing¡¯s wrong, sir. Goodnight."


    After that, their days felt like ash¡ªempty routines, the bond between them crumbling into silence. And then came the day that scarred Rafael forever.


    It was supposed to be routine¡ªjust another hair wash day. A small thing, but one Rafael had always hated. Blindness had turned it into a ritual of humiliation, stripping him of control, forcing him to lean on someone else. He¡¯d tried doing it himself once; the mess that followed had been enough to remind him why he couldn¡¯t. Ian had handed Rafael tea first¡ªwarm, soothing, meant to quiet his nerves. Rafael drank, grateful, letting the bitter calm settle into his chest. And now here he was again, palms braced against the cold marble sink, shoulders bare, vulnerable. Exposed. Waiting. Trusting.


    "Ready?" Ian¡¯s voice was t, stripped of warmth. The faucet hissed, filling the basin.


    "Yeah," Rafael sighed, leaning forward. "Let¡¯s just get it over with."


    But then¡ªit happened. The betrayal. Swift, brutal, without warning.


    Ian¡¯s hands, which only moments ago had been gentle,thering soap through Rafael¡¯s hair with practiced ease, suddenly shifted. Fingers that once steadied him became iron shackles, shoving his head down, merciless, into the basin filled with water.


    The shock of icy water mmed into Rafael¡¯s face, flooding his nose, his mouth, burning down into his lungs. His Instinct screamed for air. He thrashed, legs jerking against the tiled floor, hands wing at Ian¡¯s arms. His voice broke into muffled cries, choking, sputtering¡ª"Stop! Ian!"¡ªbut the water drowned the words before they could escape.


    Terror tore through him like wildfire. His body, usually sharp with strength, felt heavy, slow, uncooperative. His muscles buckled as if wrapped in lead. A dizzy haze spun the edges of his vision, ck creeping in like ink spilled across paper. And then, amidst the chaos, a single truth pierced through the fog:


    The tea Ian had served him earlier was making Rafael weaker than normal.


    The bitter aftertaste he had ignored, the strange warmth in his veins¡ªit hadn¡¯t been fatigue, it hadn¡¯t been weakness. It was poison. Drugged. Betrayed.


    And the worst part¡ªthe hands pinning him down were the same ones he had trusted most..


    He iled, knocking bottles to the floor, but Ian¡¯s grip was iron. "I¡¯m sorry," Ian whispered, his voice trembling¡ªbut he didn¡¯t let go.


    The water burned his lungs, and the darkness¡ªhis constant prison¡ªclosed in tighter, suffocating him until nothing remained.


    When Rafael opened his eyes again, it was two weekster in a hospital bed. Tubes in his arms. Machines keeping him tethered to life. He had nearly drowned. And Ian was gone.


    What Ian left behind was worse than his absence. A voice note, hidden in Rafael¡¯s phone, in a folder only Rafael would ever search. Rafael listened in silence, each word another knife.


    "Rafael... God, I¡¯m so sorry." Ian¡¯s voice cracked with grief. "Mirabel made me do it. She threatened my sister¡ªsaid she¡¯d kill her if I didn¡¯t... if I didn¡¯t end you. I didn¡¯t want to. You were my friend. My best friend. Forgive me... please."


    Tears he couldn¡¯t even see slipped down his face as he listened, over and over, until he buried the note deep in his vaults. What could he do then? He had been nothing but a blind, broken teenager, powerless against Mirabel¡¯s empire. But that betrayal carved something permanent in him. It was the day he stopped being helpless. It was the day his weakness became his weapon.


    The memory dissolved, but its ache lingered. Rafael found himself back in the garden, the fountain whispering beside him, the roses painted gold by the setting sun. And all he could think about was Eliana.


    What if Mirabel set her sights on Eliana next? What if she twisted Eliana¡¯s kindness the way she had twisted Ian¡¯s, turning her warmth into a de aimed straight at him? The image crushed him¡ªEliana¡¯s hopeful smile hollowing into coldness, her loyalty poisoned into betrayal.


    "No," he whispered fiercely, gripping the arms of his chair until his hands shook. "I won¡¯t let her. Mirabel won¡¯t destroy Eliana the way she destroyed Ian."


    He had spent four years weaving his¡ªevidence, schemes, traps waiting to close around Mirabel. But until that day came, she was still dangerous. Too dangerous. And Eliana... Eliana had to be kept away, even if it meant Rafael had to be very cruel.


    With a heavy breath, Rafael turned his chair back toward the hospital, his decision settling inside him like cold steel. For her safety, for what was left of his own fragile heart, Rafael had to let Eliana go.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 51: Keep Her Close

    <h4>Chapter 51: Keep Her Close</h4>


    Rafael Vexley still sat by the fountain, his wheelchair perfectly still, the cool spray from the water brushing his face. Each drop felt like a cruel reminder of the time he nearly drowned. The choice he had to make pressed down on him like an anchor: Eliana had to leave. Not because he wanted her gone, but because keeping her close would destroy her. Mirabel¡¯s poison had already ruined too much¡ªturned Ian into something unrecognizable¡ªand Rafael couldn¡¯t allow the same shadow to touch Eliana. The memory of that betrayal still cut through him, sharper than any wound, a mark no amount of power or money could ever hide.


    With a sigh that escaped his lips like a defeated whisper, Rafael reached into a hiddenpartment on the arm of his wheelchair, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of his phone. He pulled it out, the screen illuminating his chiseled features in the fading light. His grey eyes, narrowed as he typed a message to his mysterious friend¡ªa shadowy ally who had been with him through the darkest plots, the one person he trusted not to betray him.


    <strong>Rafael:</strong> You were right about her. Eliana¡¯s not like the others. She¡¯s... different.


    He hit send, leaning back as the fountain¡¯s gentle gurgle filled the silence. Momentster, the phone vibrated in his hand, the responseing swift andced with amusement.


    <strong>Friend:</strong> Haha! I can¡¯t believe it. The almighty Rafael Vexley, caught in the web so fast? I figured you¡¯d resist for months, build those walls higher than your skyscrapers. What did she do to make you wave the white g already?


    Rafael¡¯s lips twitched into a reluctant smile, his thumb hovering over the keys. He could almost hear his friend¡¯sughter echoing through the digital void¡ªa rare sound in his isted world. But the warmth faded quickly, reced by the familiar ache of confusion. Eliana hadn¡¯t schemed or seduced; she had simply... been.


    <strong>Rafael:</strong> Nothing, really. She¡¯s been stubborn as hell, talks back like no one¡¯s ever dared. Not the meek little thing you described.


    The reply pinged almost instantly, the words dripping with mirth.


    <strong>Friend:</strong> Lol, that¡¯s a surprise! The reports painted her as quiet, resilient but not fiery. Guess she¡¯s got more spark than we thought. So, what? She didn¡¯t do anything, and now you¡¯re obsessed? Spill it, man. How¡¯d she crack the ice king without even trying?


    Rafael stared at the screen, his heart twisting. Obsessed. The word hit too close, stirring emotions he had long buried underyers of sarcasm and suspicion. His fingers flew across the keys, honesty slipping out unbidden.


    <strong>Rafael: </strong>I don¡¯t get it myself. She hasn¡¯t ttered me, hasn¡¯t pried for secrets. She¡¯s just... there. Kind without agenda, loyal without strings. It¡¯s like she¡¯s pulling me in without lifting a finger. And yeah, it¡¯s driving me insane.


    Laughter emojis flooded the screen first, followed by text that teased without mercy.


    <strong>Friend:</strong> ?????? Oh, this is gold. The great puppet master, puppeted by a girl who does "nothing." So, are you texting to gloat?<i> "Hey, look at me, obsessed with the caregiver"?</i>


    Rafael chuckled softly, the sound bitter-sweet in the empty garden. His smile lingered for a heartbeat, but then reality crashed back. He typed slowly, each word carving deeper into his resolve.


    <strong>Rafael: </strong>Wish I could gloat. But no. I have to send her away. Far away from me.


    The response was immediate, the tone shifting from yful to probing.


    <strong>Friend: </strong>Why? What happened?


    Rafael¡¯s jaw clenched as he recounted the incident, his mind reying the chaos in vivid, painful detail¡ªthe sharp crack of Mirabel¡¯s p against Eliana¡¯s cheek, the venom in hers and Celina¡¯s voice as they hurled insults like daggers. He typed it all out, the words pouring forth like a confession.


    <strong>Rafael:</strong> She went head-to-head with Celina. Didn¡¯t back down for a second. Then Mirabel stepped in, and that¡¯s what has me on edge. Mirabel¡¯s already circling Eliana like a predator. She¡¯ll sink her ws in, twist her, tear her apart¡ªthe same way she did with Ian. I can¡¯t stand by and watch that happen.


    The pause felt eternal, those three little dots pulsing on the screen like they were mocking him. When the reply finally came, it hit sharp and certain¡ªfirm, almost like a reprimand¡ªslicing straight through Rafael¡¯s anxious thoughts


    <strong>Friend:</strong> You¡¯re acting like that weak, scared kid again, Raf. Not the formidable man you¡¯ve be. Eliana won¡¯t be safer anywhere else but with you. Mirabel¡¯s petty, you know that! She¡¯ll target her anyway just for crossing Celina. Keep her close, man. Very close. And don¡¯t worry, Eliana won¡¯t betray you. Ever.


    Rafael¡¯s breath caught, his fingers trembling slightly as he absorbed the words. Keep her close. Eliana won¡¯t betray you. The idea ignited a spark of hope amid the dread, but doubt lingered like smoke. How could he be so sure? Ian was just like Eliana yet he betrayed him.


    <strong>Rafael: </strong>You sure? How can you know she won¡¯t turn?


    <strong>Friend:</strong> Trust me on this. I¡¯ve got eyes everywhere. And speaking of protection¡ªI¡¯ll handle her father¡¯s security from now on. Frank Bet¡¯s getting moved to a new hospital tonight. Safer, off the grid. No more vulnerabilities.


    Relief washed over Rafael, mingled with a surge of gratitude for this enigmatic ally who always seemed one step ahead. But the weight of his decision pressed on.


    <strong>Rafael: </strong>Is this the right call? Keeping her in the crossfire?


    <strong>Friend: </strong>Yes. Focus on our ns¡ªthe¡¯s closing on Mirabel. Don¡¯t overthink. We¡¯ve got this.


    The conversation ended with a simple thumbs-up emoji, leaving Rafael staring at the screen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The sun had fully set now, the garden shrouded in twilight, the roses mere silhouettes against the darkening sky. He pocketed the phone, his hands steadying on the wheelchair¡¯s controls. With a deep breath, he wheeled himself back toward the hospital wing where Eliana¡¯s room was, the path illuminated by soft ground lights that formed eerie glows on the stone walkway.


    The wheels hummed softly against the polished floors as he approached Eliana¡¯s room, the door slightly ajar. Voices drifted out¡ªJames was chatting amiably with Eliana. Rafael paused just outside, listening. James¡¯s tone was warm, concerned, like a big brother checking in.


    "So, Miss Bet, you¡¯re all packed? Need anything else? Water, snacks for the road? Mr. Vexley¡¯s got a whole kitchen staff on standby."


    Eliana¡¯sugh was light but tinged with exhaustion, her voice carrying that resilient lilt that always tugged at Rafael¡¯s heart. "I¡¯m fine, James, really. You¡¯ve been so kind. Just... ready to get out of here and check on my dad."


    Rafael eased the door open, his wheelchair rolling in without a sound. Eliana was by the bed, dressed simply in faded jeans and a soft, worn sweater that contrasted beautifully against her warm brown skin. Her long curls spilled over her shoulders, framing her face and those honey eyes that immediately found him. James stood a little taller at the sight of Rafael, offering a quiet, respectful nod.


    "Mr. Vexley," James said, his voice professional yet warm. "I was just making sure Miss Bet¡¯s all set."


    Eliana¡¯s gaze softened as she saw Rafael, but there was a determination in her posture that made his stomach twist. "Rafael," she said, her full lips curving into a tentative smile. "Can we talk? Privately?"


    James nced between them, sensing the tension. "Of course. I¡¯ll be right outside if you need me." He excused himself with a polite nod, closing the door behind him with a soft click.


    The room fell into a charged silence, broken only by the distant hum of medical equipment. Rafael wheeled closer, positioning himself near the bed, his piercing eyes¡ªstill feigning that clouded haze¡ªmeeting hers. Up close, he could see the faint bruise from Mirabel¡¯s p blooming on her cheek, a purple shadow that ignited a protective fury in him. But he masked it with his usual sarcasm, though his voice came out softer than intended.


    "What¡¯s on your mind, Eliana? nning to lecture me again on my charming personality?"


    She didn¡¯t smile. Instead, she took a deep breath, her hands sping together as if to steady herself. Her eyes, those brown pools of emotion, shimmered with unshed tears¡ªresilient, yet vulnerable. "Rafael... I appreciate everything you¡¯ve done. The job, the care for my dad. But I can¡¯t do this anymore."


    His heart stuttered, but he kept his expression neutral, leaning forward slightly. "Can¡¯t do what? Put up with my endless wit? I thought you were tougher than that."


    Eliana shook her head, her curls swaying gently. "It¡¯s not that. Today... with Celina and Mirabel... it opened my eyes. This world of yours¡ªit¡¯s full of poison, Rafael. Lies, maniptions. I can¡¯t let myself be dragged into it. My dad¡¯s sick, I need stability, not chaos."


    He felt a pang, sharp and deep, like a crack in his carefully constructed armor. "Eliana, wait. You think running away fixes anything? Mirabel¡¯s not the type to forget a slight. Stay, and I can protect you."


    Her voice rose,ced with emotion, her hands gesturing emphatically. "Protect me? By keeping me here as your caregiver? Rafael, I¡¯m not blind to what¡¯s happening. You push people away, but then you pull them back when it suits you. My heart can¡¯t take the Rollercoaster of living in your world."


    Rafael¡¯s hands clenched around the arms of his wheelchair, his friend¡¯s warning looping in his head¡ªkeep her close. But Eliana¡¯s words cut deep, hitting the very insecurities he fought to bury. His voice broke as he pushed past his pride.


    "You think I don¡¯t already know what my life is? Those walls¡ªI built them because I had to. Just... don¡¯t judge me for it, Eliana. I¡¯ll admit it¡ªyou¡¯re different. So stay. Please. I¡¯ll protect you, I promise."


    She stepped closer, her scent¡ªa mix of vani and hope¡ªenveloping him. Tears glistened now, one slipping down her cheek. Different? How, Rafael? Because I¡¯m easier to handle than the others, easier to toy with?" Her voice shook, anger and hurt tangled together. "That¡¯s not enough for me. I can¡¯t do this anymore. I want to resign¡ªtoday."


    The words shocking Rafael to his core. His breath caught, the room spinning slightly as the implications sank in. Eliana, the one light in his shadowed world, was slipping away. And in that moment, as the silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken longing and fear, Rafael realized the chains binding him weren¡¯t just his secrets¡ªthey were the invisible threads drawing him inexorably to her.


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 Chapter 52: Scheming Billionaire

    <h4>Chapter 52: Scheming Billionaire</h4>


    The Vexley mansion stretched across the horizon like something torn from a painting¡ªgrand, cold, untouchable. Under the bruised indigo sky, its spires pierced upward like watchtowers, the ivy creeping over stone walls as though even nature longed to im it back. Thewns were trimmed to perfection, not a de of grass out of ce, yet to Eliana Bet it all felt sterile, suffocating. Luxury wrapped in steel. A pce, yes¡ªbut to her, it was a prison with fancy locks.


    Five days had slipped by since she had stood in the hospital and finally said it out loud¡ªher resignation. The words had cost her, like tearing something alive from her chest. And yet, she was still here. Still walking these echoing halls where every corner seemed to breathe Rafael¡¯s name. Each day had blurred into a silent tug of war: her resolve against his persistence, her desire for freedom against the weight of promises she couldn¡¯t quite abandon.


    Eliana sat curled in the wide bay window of the guest suite, her knees drawn close, her fingers idly worrying the frayed edge of her sweater. That sweater was her one stubborn rebellion against the mansion¡¯s silk and marble¡ªit smelled faintly ofundry soap and the little apartment she had once called home. Her eyes, usually warm and filled with a restless kind of hope, were tired now. Determined, but tired. She had told herself again and again: Rafael Vexley¡¯s world isn¡¯t mine to live in. In his story, my mother is the viin¡ªand I can¡¯t afford to be trapped between them.


    But leaving wasn¡¯t simple. Something about Rafael ¡ªhis broken edges, the way he hid them with arrogance¡ªkept pulling her back in. And then, as if fate knew her weakness, Rafael had chosen this exact week to fall "ill." Not the kind of illness that brought doctors to the door, no¡ªthis was the sort of sickness that lived more in his theatrics than his body. A lingering cough, a pale expression, an exaggerated groan at the wrong time. He had staged the perfect performance of a dying man¡ªeverybored breath, every faint groan, carefully measured to pull at her heartstrings. And it worked. No matter how loudly her mind screamed that it was all an act, that she couldn¡¯t let herself be fooled again, a part of her still wavered, aching for him against her better judgment.


    "Eliana!" His voice carried down the marble hall, low and rasping, like a man on the brink. "Please¡ªI need you."


    She closed her eyes. The sound pierced her armor, the way it always did. Duty, habit, pity¡ªcall it what you will, but it had a leash on her soul. She stood with a sigh, curls bouncing as she straightened her faded jeans. The letter she had started¡ªher resignation¡ªstill sat unfinished on the desk. nk spaces where her final words should have gone.


    Her sneakers squeaked softly as she walked across the polished corridor, the sound far too ordinary for such a grand setting. The door to Rafael¡¯s bedroom was cracked open. She pushed it wider, and there he was¡ªstretched across the expanse of a four-poster bed, sheets tangled around him. The man who usuallymanded every room he wheeled into looked disheveled, boyish almost, with his dark wavy hair spilling over the pillow. His eyes, sharp and searching, flicked to hers the moment she entered.


    "You look awful," Eliana said dryly, bncing a tray of tea and tissues as she crossed to his bedside. Her tone was light, almost teasing, though her chest felt heavier than her words. The room carried the scent of eucalyptus and menthol, like someone had bottled up "illness" and sprayed it into the air. A performance, yes, but one convincing enough to make her heart stutter. She set the tray down carefully. "Still alive, I see."


    "Barely," Rafael rasped, clutching the nket up to his chin like a sulking child. At six-foot-three, with that sharp jawline and a body that usually radiated power, he should have looked intimidating even from a sickbed. But right now? He looked ridiculous¡ªand he knew it. His lips jutted in a pout, milking his weakness for all it was worth. "You wouldn¡¯t walk out on a dying man, would you?"


    Eliana¡¯s eyes flicked heavenward as she reached for the teapot, the fragrant steam of chamomile rising between them. She poured slowly into the delicate porcin cup, the sound of liquid filling the silence. "You¡¯re not dying, Rafael. You¡¯ve caught a cold. Drink this, and for heaven¡¯s sake, stop whining."


    He took the cup from her, letting his fingers linger just long enough to brush hers. The move felt intentional, practiced. "Heartless," he muttered, bringing the rim to his lips with exaggerated care, like every sip might be hisst. "Here I am, wasting away, and you¡¯re already plotting your escape."


    Her chest tightened, but she hid it behind a scoff. "I¡¯ve told you already¡ªI can¡¯t stay here. This house..." Her hand lifted, motioning toward the gilded chandelier, the polished wood, the heavy velvet curtains that framed the room like a stage. "It¡¯s not my world. My ce is with my dad. He needs me."


    "Your dad¡¯s fine," Rafael shot back too quickly, the sharp edge in his tone betraying his nerves before he softened it again. "I mean¡ªhe¡¯s well cared for. Don¡¯t run from this, Eliana. Stay. Be my eyes, my legs."


    She turned away, fussing with his pillows, hoping the rustle of fabric would cover the storm raging across her face. He couldn¡¯t see her expression, but she still felt exposed, as if he might hear the crack in her breath or sense the tremor she fought to hide. His words carved straight into her, stirring gratitude, guilt, and the secret she carried like a burning brand. Because what he didn¡¯t know¡ªwhat she couldn¡¯t ever risk telling him¡ªwas that Mirabel Vexley, his stepmother, the woman who glided through this mansion with frost in her veins, was her mother. The same woman who had abandoned Eliana and her father for power and money.


    Every day she lingered here, she risked colliding with Mirabel, risked those icy stares that sliced deeper than any p. And if Rafael found out? His moods were too unpredictable¡ªice one moment, fire the next. Would he turn that cold, ruthless edge on her? Or worse, take it out on her fragile father?


    She had to leave. It was her only way to protect herself, to protect her dad. But she wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto walk away without bitterness, without turning Rafael into another enemy. For all his maniption, for all his games, he had shown her kindness in his own broken way. And that was the part that made it hardest to go.


    "Eliana," Rafael said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "You¡¯re not just a caregiver. You¡¯re..." He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the cup. "You¡¯re different. I don¡¯t trust people, but I think I can trust you. Stay, and I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re safe."


    She met his gaze, those grey eyes boring into her despite his blindness. Her resolve wavered, but the memory of Mirabel¡¯s p and sneer from yesterday steadied her. "I can¡¯t, Rafael. I¡¯m sorry."


    Over the next few days, Rafael¡¯s "illness" turned into something that could¡¯ve won him an award. He treated every cough like a death rattle, every sigh like the final gasp of a man fading away. He¡¯d call out to her at the strangest hours¡ªsometimes in the middle of the night¡ªhis voice thick with theatrical misery as heined about chills or a throat that felt "like sandpaper."


    By morning, his antics grew even more borate. Once, Eliana walked into the library and nearly burst outughing. There he was, buried under three heavy nkets, cocooned like a child who¡¯d lost a fight with the linen closet. He was perched dramatically by the crackling firece, his tall frame folded into the armchair as though he were a tragic hero awaiting his end. She wondered how he managed to get into the chair. The flickering light danced across rows of leather-bound books and the deep reds and golds of the Persian rugs, giving the whole scene the gravitas of a painting. Except, of course, the subject was a grown man pouting like he¡¯d caught the gue.


    "I¡¯m freezing," he groaned, his teeth chattering for effect. "You can¡¯t leave me like this, Eliana. What if I die of pneumonia?"


    She bit back augh, adjusting the thermostat. "You¡¯re in a mansion with central heating, Rafael. You¡¯ll survive."


    Still, his antics chipped away at her resolve, no matter how hard she tried to stay unmoved. When he let out an exaggerated sneeze¡ªclearly put on for effect¡ªand tilted his face toward her, those clouded, wide eyes somehow managed to carry a pleading, almost puppy-like look. It tugged at something deep inside her, something she didn¡¯t want to acknowledge.


    This was Rafael Vexley¡ªbillionaire, master maniptor, a man who knew how to pull people¡¯s strings with precision. And yet here he sat, ying the part of a helpless child just to keep her close. The contradiction was maddening. It was disarming. And the worst part? Against her better judgment, she felt herself soften. She hated that it was working. She hated that she noticed how oddly charming his ridiculous charade could be.


    By the third day, Rafael¡¯s tactics grew craftier. He¡¯d have the chef prepare her favorite meals¡ªspicy jambya, warm cornbread¡ªiming it was for his "recovery." He¡¯d recount childhood stories, his voice low and vulnerable, hinting at the lonely boy beneath the cold exterior. Each gesture chipped at her defenses, but the specter of Mirabel loomed. Eliana¡¯s silence about her mother was a wound she nursed alone, festering with every passing day.


    Unbeknownst to Eliana, Rafael had orchestrated more than his fake illness. He¡¯d tasked James with checking on her father, who¡¯d been secretly moved to a luxurious private hospital by Rafael¡¯s mysterious friend. James reported back daily, his updates a quiet reassurance amidst Rafael¡¯s scheming.


    "Frank¡¯s doing well, sir," James had whispered during ate-night call, his voice steady through Rafael¡¯s earpiece. "The new facility¡¯s top-notch. He¡¯s stable, even improving. No one knows he¡¯s there."


    "Good," Rafael had replied, his jaw tight. "Keep it that way. And Mirabel?"


    "She¡¯s already sniffing around town, asking about Eliana¡¯s identity. I¡¯ve blocked her sources, but she¡¯s persistent."


    Rafael¡¯s fingers had drummed against the armrest of his wheelchair, a habit when his mind raced. He¡¯d expected Mirabel¡¯s moves but not this soon. "Double down, James. No leaks. Eliana stays in the dark¡ªfor now."


    By the fifth day, Rafael¡¯s "cold" had miraculously faded, but his desperation hadn¡¯t. Eliana, meanwhile, had finalized her resignation letter, her handwriting neat but resolute. She¡¯d cared for Rafael diligently, brewing teas, checking his "fever," but her mind was made up. She had to leave, to escape Mirabel¡¯s shadow and protect her father.


    That afternoon, she approached Rafael¡¯s bedroom, the letter clutched in her trembling hand. The door was slightly open, and she overheard James¡¯s low voice inside.


    "Mirabel¡¯s getting closer, sir. She¡¯s digging into Eliana¡¯s past. I¡¯ve blocked every lead, but she¡¯s relentless."


    Rafael¡¯s voice was a low growl. "She¡¯s a vulture. Keep her intel locked down, James. I won¡¯t let her touch Eliana."


    Eliana¡¯s breath caught, her heart pounding. She knocked softly, and James fell silent. "Come in," Rafael called, his tone shifting to that practiced frailty.


    James excused himself, brushing past her with a polite nod. Eliana stepped inside, the letter crinkling in her grip. Rafael sat up in bed, his dark hair mussed, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the cor, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest. His eyes, still ying blind, tracked her movements.


    "Eliana," Rafael¡¯s voice was low, warm but edged with caution. "You¡¯re holding something. I can hear the paper trembling."


    Her throat tightened. She stepped closer, forcing the words out. "It¡¯s... my resignation letter, Rafael. I need you to listen this time. I can¡¯t stay."


    His jaw clenched, the mask of frailty slipping for a moment. A storm flickered beneath his calm exterior. He extended his hand, slow and deliberate, palm open. "Give it to me."


    Eliana hesitated. "Rafael... it¡¯s written. I can read it aloud if you¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t toy with me, Eliana," his voice sharpened, steel under silk. "Put it in my hand."


    Her pulse pounded in her ears. Against her better judgment, she ced the folded sheet into his waiting palm. The moment her fingers withdrew, his grip turned vicious. With a sudden snap, the letter was torn to shreds, fragments fluttering to the floor like broken promises.


    She gasped, frozen as he pushed himself upright on the bed with a strength that belied his feigned blindness. His voice erupted, no longer controlled but thunderous and raw.


    "You think you can walk away from me?" His breath came ragged, his fury uncoiled. "Don¡¯t fool yourself, Eliana. You¡¯re not leaving this house¡ª not today, not tomorrow, not ever." He leaned forward, every word weighted with threat. "I pleaded with you, but you chose deaf ears. So now?" His tone dropped, dangerous and cold. "We do it my way. Say ¡¯resign¡¯ again, and you¡¯ll learn exactly what regret feels like."


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened, fear and fury twisting together. "Rafael, you can¡¯t¡ª"


    "Out!" His arm shed toward the door like a sword. "Get out of my presence."


    Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to sob in front of him. She turned, every step backward heavy with dread, until the door shut softly behind her.


    Alone, Rafael sat rigid, pieces of the letter scattered across hisp and the floor. His breathing was harsh, uneven¡ªrage tangled with desperation. Eliana was slipping, and the threats he¡¯d forged as chains might not be enough to bind her much longer but for, it would keep her safe under his watchful gaze.


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 Chapter 53: A Stubborn Woman

    <h4>Chapter 53: A Stubborn Woman</h4>


    Eliana stormed down the vast corridor of the Vexley estate, each step cracking against the marble like a drumbeat of defiance. The lilies arranged in tall crystal vases perfumed the air with sweetness, but the scent only made her angrier¡ªbeautyid over a prison, elegance disguising chains. Her chest burned, her pulse racing as Rafael¡¯s voice reyed in her head, sharp and cruel. He had ripped her resignation letter to pieces right in front of her, as if her will and her freedom were nothing but scraps to be tossed aside. Worse, he had threatened her¡ªspoken to her like she was a bird meant to stay caged, wings clipped for hisfort.


    By the time she reached her bedroom, her fury had nowhere left to go. The door mmed behind her with a violent crack, shaking the frames on the walls. For a moment she just stood there, trembling, her vision blurred by the hot sting of tears she refused to let fall. Crying meant surrender, and she would not give him that.


    "I can¡¯t stay here," she whispered, though her voice wavered, betraying the ache beneath the anger.


    She yanked open the closet doors, her hands moving fast, restless. Her modest clothes¡ªsoft blouses, faded jeans, that worn sweater still carrying the faintfort of her father¡¯s cologne¡ªlooked almost out of ce in this gilded pce. She pulled them down one by one, stuffing them into the battered box she had carried when she first arrived, the same box that had always held the little pieces of home she couldn¡¯t let go of. The rasp of the zipper closing was sharp, final, a sound that steadied her shaking breath.


    "I¡¯m leaving," she told herself, firmer this time. "With or without his permission."


    Her reflection caught her eye in the mirror across the room¡ªwild curls tumbling around her face, her brown eyes shing with determination that barely covered the fear lurking underneath. Mirabel¡¯s shadow loomed in her mind¡ªher own mother, blood yet stranger, circling closer with every passing day. The woman who had abandoned her and her father for this hollow world of power and deceit. And Rafael? He wasn¡¯t the savior she had once foolishly imagined him to be. He was just another tyrant, another hand around her throat.


    Her thoughts leapt to her father, frail and waiting. The image of him alone, worrying, made her chest ache so fiercely it nearly knocked the breath out of her. She needed to see him. She needed to hold his hand, to tell him she was safe, to keep her promise that she would never be lost to himpletely.


    Eliana dragged the box off the shelf and steadied it on its tiny handle. Her arm no longer bound in a sling, she was grateful for at least that freedom. She drew in one deep breath, the kind that burned her lungs and stiffened her resolve, and slipped out of her room.


    The hallway stretched ahead, lined with curious stares from passing staff who pretended not to see the panic in her eyes or the box she tugged behind her. The grand oak doors at the end of the corridor rose like titans, heavy and immovable¡ªbut to her, they were salvation. She shoved them open, the weight of the world giving way to the cool sting of the outside air.


    The manicuredwns sprawled in every direction, green and perfect under the fading afternoon light, the iron gates glittering in the distance like the edge of freedom. The breeze rushed against her face, tangling her curls, urging her forward. She gripped the handle of her box tighter and marched on, every step a rebellion, every breath a promise.


    She wasn¡¯t going to let Rafael, Mirabel, or this cursed estate decide her fate. Not anymore.


    As Eliana neared the gatehouse, thete afternoon sun red off the steel bars, momentarily blinding her. For a fleeting second, she thought freedom was just a few steps away. But then Bruce¡ªthe broad-shouldered guard with kind eyes who usually greeted her with small talk about the weather¡ªstepped out. His posture was stiff, his jaw tight, and the apologetic crease between his brows told her everything before he even spoke.


    "Miss Bet," he said carefully, his voice low, almost regretful, "I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t let you leave."


    Her heart stuttered, then thudded painfully. She froze mid-step, the beat-up box scraping along the ground behind her until it caught on a crack in the pavement. The cardboard groaned under the strain as she tightened her grip on the edges. "What?" Her voice came out sharper than she intended. "Why not? Open the gate, Bruce. Please."


    Bruce shifted his weight, ncing at the inte clipped to his belt like it was a chain tying him there. "Orders from Mr. Vexley, ma¡¯am. No one leaves without his clearance today." He hesitated, then added with a wince, "Especially not you."


    Her blood burned hot in her veins. Of course. Rafael¡ªalways two steps ahead, always pulling strings before she even thought to cut them. She clenched her jaw. "This is insane! He can¡¯t just lock me in here like I¡¯m... some criminal¡ªor worse, his prisoner!"


    Bruce¡¯s gaze flickered away, shame tugging at his features. "I¡¯m just doing my job, Miss Eliana. You know how it is. If you want answers... you should talk to him."


    Her fists curled tight at her sides, fingernails biting into her palms. She wanted to scream at Bruce, to demand that he defy his boss just this once, but she knew it would be useless. Defying Rafael Vexley never ended cleanly. And worse, if Rafael grew furious enough, his retaliation might not stop at her. It could spill out, reaching her father. The thought of her fragile dad¡ªalone, vulnerable¡ªstole the fight from her chest.


    With a sharp breath, she spun around, sneakers stomping furiously against the stone as she stormed back toward the mansion. The heavy box in her hand thudded against her leg with each step, an unwanted reminder that her escape hadsted all of ten minutes.


    The grand foyer greeted her like a trap, all polished marble and glittering crystal. The chandelier overhead sparkled mockingly, throwing fractured light over her hunched shoulders as if to say: look how pretty your cage is. She muttered to herself as she walked down the hall, voice trembling between anger and despair.


    "He¡¯s locking me up... treating me like property." Her throat tightened. "I have to get out. Not just because of her¡ªthat woman haunting me like a ghost, trying to snuff me out with no clue of who I am. But Papa..." Her voice broke, and she clutched the handle of her box harder. "He hasn¡¯t seen me in days. What if he¡¯s worse? What if he¡¯s calling for me, thinking I¡¯ve abandoned him, just like she did?"


    Her feet carried her to her room, but she didn¡¯t go looking for Rafael. She couldn¡¯t. Just the thought of his thunderous baritone booming through the halls, his eyes¡ªthose piercing grey eyes that seemed to see through every flimsy wall she built¡ªmade her stomach twist. She knew how easily he could shatter her if she pushed too far. Silence, bitter as it was, felt safer.


    That evening, the world outside bled into hues of violet and deep indigo, the estate sinking into shadows as if mirroring her own despair. Eliana curled up on her bed, cocooned in silk sheets that mocked her with their softness. The tray of food delivered to her¡ªroast chicken steaming, mashed potatoes swirled with butter, green beans bright with a drizzle of oil¡ªsat untouched at her side. The smell alone made her stomach turn.


    A gentle knock came at the door, followed by ra¡¯s voice. Her ck hair pinned in its familiar bun, always spoke like a mother trying to soothe a restless child.


    "Miss Eliana?" ra¡¯s tone was tender, coaxing. "Dinner¡¯s here. You should eat something, darling. You¡¯ll feel better."


    Eliana buried her face deeper into the pillow, her words muffled and raw. "I¡¯m not hungry, ra. Just... take it away."


    "But you¡¯ve barely touched anything all day. It¡¯ll help if you eat, love."


    Her voice cracked, thick with tears. "I can¡¯t. I won¡¯t."


    The tray was eventually whisked away, but ra¡¯s worried silence lingered in the air long after she left. Eliana sobbed quietly into the pillow, hot tears soaking through the fabric until the world blurred. Every weight pressed down at once¡ªRafael¡¯s suffocating grip, her mother¡¯s shadowy pursuit, her father¡¯s fragile absence. She felt small, crushed, and chained in ways she couldn¡¯t even name.


    Sleep didn¡¯t save her. When it finally came, it dragged her into jagged dreams of locked gates, rattling chains, and her father¡¯s voice calling for her from a lonely hospital bed.


    <strong>******</strong>


    In the dim hush of his study, Rafael sat motionless in his wheelchair, the shadows swallowing him whole. The space smelled of old leather and the sharp bite of whiskey, the scent clinging to the half-empty ss he swirled absently in one hand. On his desky the shredded remains of Eliana¡¯s resignation letter, torn pieces scattered like the remnants of a battle he couldn¡¯t win. He had tried fitting them back together, but the jagged edges refused to align¡ªlike his life, like his choices.


    A tightness pressed against his chest, unfamiliar and unwee. He drew a shaky breath, his voice breaking the silence with a rasp meant for no one but himself.


    "What the hell have I done?"


    His words fell heavy, almost foreign. For a man who prided himself on control, it was a rare admission. His jaw flexed as he stared at the scraps, each fragment a reminder of how far he had gone. Women, in his past, had been diversions¡ªglittering ornaments he could acquire and discard. Never attachments. Never someone to beg. But Eliana... she unsettled him. She saw through the carefully built walls he¡¯d lived behind since the crash, since betrayal had taught him to bleed alone.


    He dragged a hand through his dark, unruly hair, cursing under his breath. Her strength¡ªquiet, steady, maddening¡ªhad cracked open a space he hadn¡¯t wanted touched. He had cared too much, too fast, and in his panic he had tried to trap her. But the memory of her face streaked with tears refused to loosen its grip.


    That night he didn¡¯t sleep.


    By dawn, when sunlight spilled through the estate¡¯s wide windows, Rafael had already wheeled himself to the sunroom. He wanted¡ªneeded¡ªto make amends, though the word "sorry" tasted strange in his mouth. He had ordered the table filled with tters of fruit, stacks of pancakes, crisp bacon, fresh bread, steaming coffee¡ªthe sort of breakfast that spoke of abundance, of care. A peace offering disguised as a meal.


    When ra entered, apron neatly tied, Rafael¡¯s head tilted slightly to her direction. "ra," he said, his tone firm but carrying a flicker of hope. "Go upstairs. Tell Eliana breakfast is ready. Tell her I want her to join me."


    The housekeeper hesitated. Her face, always kind, softened further. "Of course, sir. But..." She trailed off, as though weighing whether to say more.


    Rafael¡¯s eyes narrowed. "But what?"


    "I¡¯ll try," she said simply, bowing her head before hurrying off.


    Upstairs, ra knocked gently on Eliana¡¯s door. "Miss Eliana? Breakfast is served. Mr. Rafael is waiting in the sunroom. He¡¯d like you toe."


    There was a pause before Eliana¡¯s muffled voice answered, t and resolute. "I¡¯m not hungry, ra. And even if I were¡ªI won¡¯t eat with him."


    ra pressed her lips together. "But you skipped dinnerst night. You can¡¯t go on like this. Please, Eliana, just a little food?"


    "No." The reply came sharper this time. "I said I¡¯m not eating. Leave me alone."


    With a sigh, ra descended and returned to Rafael, who sat tensely in his chair. She shook her head softly. "I¡¯m sorry, sir. She refused. Said she isn¡¯t hungry... not with you. And..." ra¡¯s voice faltered. "She didn¡¯t eatst night either."


    Rafael¡¯s hands tightened on the armrests of his wheelchair until his knuckles whitened. A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Stubborn woman," he muttered. But beneath the irritation, worry gnawed.


    He wheeled himself toward the elevator, the faint whir of its motor echoing down the hall. At her door, he rapped firmly. "Eliana?"


    After a long silence, the door cracked open. She stood there in a thin robe, curls tangled from a restless night, her eyes red-rimmed but still burning with defiance. She looked fragile, but her stance was unyielding.


    "What do you want, Rafael?" Her voice was hoarse, but steady.


    For once, his sarcasm deserted him. His tone came out low, almost gentle. "Stop punishing yourself. Come eat something. You¡¯ll make yourself sick."


    Her arms crossed over her chest. "Strength for what? To rot here in your golden cage?" Her gaze, once warm with trust, now cut like ss. "If you don¡¯t let me go, I¡¯ll waste away in this house. Starve, copse¡ªI don¡¯t care. But I will not live as your prisoner."


    And before he could speak, the door mmed. The sound reverberated through the hall, sharp as a gunshot.


    Rafael sat frozen, his breath caught. Then fury, sharp and helpless, surged in him. "Damn it," he hissed, turning his chair away and retreating to the study.


    He snatched up his phone, thumbs hammering out a message to the one confidant he trusted, the unseen friend who advised him from the shadows.


    <strong>Rafael:</strong><strong><i></i></strong><i>I tried everything. Pleas, tactics¡ªnothing. She won¡¯t bend. So I tore her letter of resignation, locked her in, and now she says she¡¯ll die before staying. What the hell do I do?</i>


    The reply was swift, carrying a bite of disapproval.


    <strong>Friend:</strong><i>Threats? Rafael, that¡¯s not what I meant. I told you to keep her close¡ªby building trust. By making her want to stay. Not by caging her.</i>


    Rafael exhaled sharply, jaw tight as he typed back.


    <strong>Rafael: </strong><i>So what then? Apologize? Let her walk out?</i>


    <strong>Friend:</strong><i>Yes. Start with sorry¡ªand mean it. If she still leaves, then you let her. Forcing her only destroys everything.</i>


    His hands hovered over the keys, his mind rebelling against the advice.


    <strong>Rafael:</strong><i>And the danger? You told me Mirabel has her marked. That¡¯s why I can¡¯t let her go.</i>


    <strong>Friend:</strong><i>If she leaves, we go to n B. Shadow her from a distance, guards following discreetly. Mirabel won¡¯t touch her. But caging her will only drive her into Mirabel¡¯s arms.</i>


    Rafael stared at the glowing words, his chest tight with something rawer than strategy. It was logical, clean, the kind of n he¡¯d built his empire on. Yet the thought of Eliana walking out of his estate, away from his reach, carved a hollow ache inside him. The house already felt colder at the very idea.


    And for the first time in years, Rafael Vexley had no idea how to win.

 Chapter 54: A Perfect Plan

    <h4>Chapter 54: A Perfect n</h4>


    The penthouse at the very top of Asher Tower was everything Jason Asher had ever wanted people to see him in¡ªsleek, expensive, untouchable. The pce of ss and stone towered above the city, its walls of windows flooding the marble floors with sunlight that felt more like a spotlight than warmth. Once, Jason had loved the view¡ªthe skyline sprawling beneath him like a world he owned. But ever since that morning he came back from visiting Eliana, a week and a half ago, the ce felt less like home and more like a cage dressed in gold. He couldn¡¯t shake the weight pressing in on him, and as he paced the echoing floor, it was as if even the glittering walls were closing tighter around him.


    His golden-boy veneer, the one that had carried him through every ssroom, every boardroom and every cocktail party, was cracked. His hazel eyes, once the easy charm that melted people into agreement, burned now with a stormy disbelief. His blonde hair¡ªusually styled just enough to look effortless¡ªwas a mess, sticking up in wild spikes from his restless hands dragging through it again and again. He could still feel the sting of Eliana¡¯s palm against his cheek. The skin had healed, but the insult burned deeper than anything visible. It was in his pride. In his carefully built sense of control.


    Jason dropped onto the leather couch, its cushions sighing beneath his weight. The phone in his hand felt heavier than it should, like an anchor tethering him to a truth he refused to ept. Eliana¡¯s number sat on the screen, silent and real, mocking him. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, and muttered into the cavernous silence of the penthouse, "How could she do this to me?" His voice came out raw, bouncing back from the minimalist walls lined with abstract paintings¡ªcold, expensive pieces his parents had picked out. They screamed prestige but gave nothing back to him, nofort, no warmth.


    He pressed her number again, thumb trembling despite his fury, waiting for a ring that never came. Straight to voicemail. Sometimes, worse, the robotic message that meant she had cut him offpletely. He knew what that meant, but denial is a stubborn thing. He couldn¡¯t let go. Not yet.


    The rejection beep snapped him back, dragging his mind to the garden at the Vexley estate¡ªthe moment everything had splintered. He remembered the crushed petals beneath his shoes, their perfume rising heavy in the air while bees swarmed in confusion around him. Eliana had stood before him, no longer soft, no longer pliant. Her eyes, once filled with adoration, had turned sharp, furious, alive with something that made his chest twist. When her hand had connected with his cheek, it hadn¡¯t just been a p¡ªit had been a deration. A line drawn.


    "Never put your mouth on me again," she¡¯d said, her voice like sharpened steel.


    He had stumbled back, his ego reeling, hand pressed to his burning cheek. Words had tumbled out, stunned and foolish: "Eliana... what the hell? You pped me?"


    In Jason Asher¡¯s memory, her response reyed like a broken record: "You lost that right¡ªforever." Jason shook his head, leaning forward on the couch, elbows digging into his gym-toned thighs. "That wasn¡¯t her," he whispered, as if saying it aloud could rewrite the scene. "The Eliana I know... she worshipped me. Remember that time I vanished for a whole week on that spontaneous trip to Ibiza with the guys? I came back, no exnation, and she just... forgave me. Wrapped her arms around me, those full pink lips curving into that hopeful smile, saying, ¡¯I¡¯m just d you¡¯re back, Jason.¡¯ She epted everything¡ªmy ws, my moods, even when I forgot her birthday because of some deal Dad was closing."


    He stood up abruptly, pacing again, his stylish sneakers squeaking softly on the polished floor. The penthouse felt too big, too empty without her presence to fill it even though he had never brought her there. Eliana had always been the one to make spaces feel like home, with her quiet strength and that natural elegance that shone through even though she was having a bad day. But now? "She¡¯s changed," Jason said to the empty room, his voice cracking with a mix of frustration and genuine confusion. "Why? I mean, yeah, I abandoned her when she needed me most¡ªafter that whole mess with Keh Holloway¡¯s kids swooping in like vultures, after her dad got sick. But I apologized! I said I was sorry in the garden. ¡¯I¡¯m not letting you leave me,¡¯ I told her. ¡¯We¡¯ll talk when you¡¯ve cooled off.¡¯ What more does she want?"


    A bitterugh escaped him, hollow and echoing. He pictured her with that blind cripple, Rafael Vexley¡ªtall,manding, but supposedly helpless in his wheelchair, those grey eyes clouded and useless. "Her with him? No way," Jason scoffed, clenching his fist around the phone. "Eliana couldn¡¯t possibly be serious about that guy. He¡¯s a recluse, a billionaire, yes, but with too many disabilities. Wait... is that it? Is she punishing me by pretending to move on? Yeah, that makes sense. She¡¯s just angry, holding onto it like a shield. But she¡¯lle back. She always does. Eliana¡¯s too loyal, too kind-hearted to stay away from me forever."


    But even as he convinced himself, a gnawing impatience wed at his chest. He couldn¡¯t wait for her anger to subside¡ªnot with Sarai breathing down his neck like a possessive shadow. Ever since he¡¯d decided to reim Eliana, Sarai had be unbearable.<i> "Stay away," </i>he¡¯d told her over the phone just days ago, his voice firm.<i> "It¡¯s over, Sarai. I¡¯m going back to Eliana.</i>" And she¡¯dughed¡ªthat elegant, sarcastic trill that once excited him but now grated like nails on ss.<i> "You¡¯re confused, Jason. Just a phase. I¡¯m not leaving you. We belong together."</i>


    Jason tossed his phone onto the coffee table, watching it skid across the ss surface. He needed a n. Something to win her back fast. As he stared out at the city skyline, a thought sparked, bright and promising. "That¡¯s it," he murmured, his hazel eyes lighting up. "The properties. Keh Holloway¡¯s kids¡ªthey took everything from her and her dad. The supermarket, the house... Eliana¡¯s been fighting that battle alone. If I get it all back for her? Make those greedy Holloway siblings hand it over? She¡¯d see me as her hero again.<i> ¡¯Jason, you did this for me?¡¯ </i>she¡¯d say, those expressive eyes filling with tears of gratitude.<i> ¡¯I knew you cared.¡¯ </i>And she¡¯d run right back into my arms."


    The idea bloomed in his mind, detailed and vivid. He imagined calling up his family¡¯swyers, leveraging the Asher name to pressure the Holloways. "Dad¡¯s connections in real estate could seal it," Jason said aloud, nodding to himself. "A few threats about audits orwsuits, and they¡¯d fold. Eliana would be so happy¡ªher dad¡¯s supermarket thriving again, their old house back where it belongs. No more struggling, no more resentment. She¡¯d forgive everything. <i>¡¯You¡¯re my savior, Jason,¡¯</i> she¡¯d whisper, her slender frame pressing against mine."


    He was midway through mentally drafting the first call when the door to his penthouse burst open with a dramatic whoosh. Sarai Monroe swept in like a storm in designer heels, her light brown skin glowing under the penthouse lights, sharp green eyes locked on him with predatory focus. Her glossy jet-ck hair was pulled into a sleek high ponytail that swished with each confident step, and she wore a form-fitting red dress that screamed luxury¡ªVersace, probably, paired with gold essories that caught the light like fire.


    Jason whirled around, his face twisting in anger. "Sarai? What the hell? How did you get in here?"


    She dangled a key card between her manicured fingers, a smug smile ying on her full lips. "You gave this to me, remember? Back when you couldn¡¯t keep your hands off me. And you forgot to take it back when you had your little ¡¯epiphany¡¯ about going back to Eliana."


    He stormed toward her, snatching the card from her hand. "I told you to stay away! We¡¯re done. Over. Why can¡¯t you just leave me alone?"


    Sarai didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, she crossed her arms, her fierce beauty radiating an aura of unshakeable possession. She tilted her head, that sarcastic elegance dripping from every word. "Oh, Jason, darling. Always so dramatic. You think you can just cast me aside like one of your failed ¡¯entrepreneur¡¯ schemes? I¡¯m not Eliana¡ªI don¡¯t take ¡¯no¡¯ for an answer. Besides, you¡¯re confused. Deep down, you know we make sense. Power recognizes power."


    Jason¡¯s shoulders tensed, his strong jaw clenching as he pointed toward the door. "Confused? The only confusion is why you¡¯re still here! I want Eliana back. She¡¯s the one who gets me, who forgives me. You? You¡¯re just...plications. Get out, Sarai. Now."


    Her green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and venom, and she stepped closer, her perfume¡ªa heady mix of jasmine and ambition¡ªwafting over him. "Forgives you? Oh, please. Eliana¡¯s done forgiving, Jason. Haven¡¯t you noticed? That p mark you came back with a week ago? It wasn¡¯t just anger; it was goodbye. But fine, y your little hero game. I just heard what you¡¯re plotting¡ªgetting her properties back? That¡¯s cute. But before you do that, sit down. I have something very important to tell you. Trust me, you¡¯ll want to hear this."


    Jason hesitated, his anger flickering with curiosity. "What could you possibly have to say that I¡¯d care about?"


    Sarai¡¯s smile widened, sharp and knowing. "Something that changes everything about your precious Eliana. And everything about us? Oh, honey, you have no idea."


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 55: This Changes Nothing

    <h4>Chapter 55: This Changes Nothing</h4>


    Jason Asher¡¯s penthouse felt like it was shrinking in around him, the ss walls looked cold and suffocating while the city lights twinkled mockingly through the floor-to-ceiling windows like distant stars indifferent to the chaos unfolding below. Jason stood rigid, his hazel eyes narrowed into slits of fury as he faced Sarai Monroe, who had invaded his sanctuary like a tempest in red silk. Her Versace dress clung to her curves, the gold jewelry glinting under the soft glow of the chandelier, but Jason saw only an unwee intruder. His blonde hair was tousled from running frustrated hands through it, and his gym-toned frame tensed as if ready for battle.


    "Spit it out, Sarai," Jason snarled, his voice low and edged with impatience. "Whatever you¡¯ve got to say, say it and get the hell out of my house. I don¡¯t have time for your games."


    Sarai didn¡¯t flinch at his harsh tone. Instead, she sauntered deeper into the room, her sharp green eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and calction. She kicked off her designer heels with deliberate slowness, letting them tter against the marble floor, and sank into the plush leather sofa as if she owned the ce. Crossing her legs elegantly, she smoothed her glossy ck ponytail and fixed him with a serene smile that belied the storm brewing beneath.


    "Oh, Jason, always so quick to bark orders," she purred, her voice dripping with that signature sarcastic elegance. "You¡¯d think after all we¡¯ve been through, you¡¯d at least offer me a drink. But fine, if you insist on being rude, I¡¯ll cut to the chase." She reached into her oversized Hermes handbag, her manicured nails¡ªpainted a fierce crimson¡ªshing as she pulled out a crisp white envelope. Holding it out to him, she arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Here. This is what I came to share. Go on, open it. I promise it¡¯s worth your time."


    Jason hesitated, his strong jaw clenching as he eyed the envelope like it was a venomous snake. His mind raced back to his earlier resolve¡ªthe n to reim Eliana¡¯s lost properties, to be her hero again. This interruption from Sarai felt like a derailment, but curiosity gnawed at him. With a scoff, he snatched the envelope from her hand, his fingers brushing hers just enough to send a reluctant shiver down his spine¡ªa remnant of their tangled past.


    "Fine," he muttered, tearing open the seal with rough impatience. Inside, a glossy ultrasound scan slipped out first, the ck-and-white image showing the unmistakable curve of a womb cradling a tiny, bean-shaped form. His breath caught, hazel eyes widening in disbelief as he unfolded the apanying letter. The words blurred for a moment before sharpening into cruel rity: Dear Jason, I¡¯m pregnant. The baby is yours. We¡¯ve created something beautiful together. Let¡¯s talk about our future. Love, Sarai.


    Jason¡¯s world tilted. He stared at the scan, his usual charm fracturing as shock rippled across his face. The room seemed to spin¡ªthe sleek modern furniture, the skyline beyond¡ªeverything fading into insignificance. "This... this can¡¯t be real," he whispered, his voice cracking. He flipped the scan over, as if expecting it to reveal a joke, but the medical stamps and dates stared back usingly. His hands trembled, the paper crinkling under his grip. "What the hell is this, Sarai? Some kind of joke?"


    Before he could unleash the torrent building in his chest, Sarai leaned forward, her light smooth skin glowing under the lights, her expression a masterful blend of vulnerability and triumph. "It¡¯s no trick, Jason," she said softly, her green eyes locking onto his with an intensity that demanded belief. "The baby is yours. Ours. I found out a few weeks ago, right after you started rambling about going back to Eliana. I didn¡¯t want to tell you like this, but you left me no choice. And before you ask¡ªyes, I¡¯ve already shared the news with your parents. And mine. They¡¯re thrilled, darling. Ecstatic, really. Your mother was already chattering about wedding ns, saying it¡¯s high time we made this official. The Asher and Monroe families united¡ªwhat could be more perfect?"


    She smirked then, a slow, satisfied curve of her full lips, leaning back against the sofa cushions as if she¡¯d just yed a winning hand in a high-stakes game. In her mind, the pieces were falling into ce: Jason trapped, Eliana sidelined, and her own ascent to the life she deserved secured. "See? This changes everything. You can¡¯t run back to that naive little girl now. We¡¯re going to be a family."


    To Sarai¡¯s utter shock, Jason didn¡¯t crumble. He didn¡¯t shout or beg for details. Instead, he folded the letter calmly, his hazel eyes turning cold as steel. Setting the papers on the coffee table with deliberate precision, he straightened up, his voice steady and devoid of warmth. "This doesn¡¯t change a damn thing between us, Sarai. I¡¯m not the father of that child. Go find whoever the real one is¡ªsome other fool you manipted into your bed. Or better yet, get an abortion. I don¡¯t care. Just leave me out of it."


    For the first time since she¡¯d burst through the door, Sarai¡¯sposure shattered. Her eyes widened in genuine horror, the smug joy evaporating like mist in the sun. Her face paled beneath her wless makeup, and she bolted upright, her ponytail whipping as she shook her head in disbelief. "What? How can you say that?" she yelled, her voice rising to a pitch of raw emotion, echoing off the penthouse walls. "An abortion? To our child? Jason, you¡¯re being cruel! Insane! I know you¡¯re doing all this just to crawl back to Eliana, but this... this is wrong! You¡¯re throwing away something real for a fantasy!"


    She paced now, her bare feet padding furiously against the cool marble, her red dress swishing with each agitated step. Tears¡ªreal or performative, even she wasn¡¯t sure¡ªglistened in her eyes as she whirled on him. "Remember, Jason? Before we started sleeping together, we were best friends. You and me¡ª inseparable since we were kids. We shared secrets, dreams... everything. How can you treat your best friend like this? Like I¡¯m some disposable fling? I deserve better than your cold dismissal!"


    Jason threw his head back andughed¡ªa bitter, hollow sound that made Sarai¡¯s bones chill. It wasn¡¯t amusement; it was disdain,ced with the sharp edge of hypocrisy exposed. He stepped closer, his gym-toned arms crossing over his chest, eyes shing with usatory fire. "Best friends? You? Oh, that¡¯s rich, Sarai. You¡¯re calling me out on how to treat friends? You, who betrayed Eliana¡ªour shared best friend¡ªby sneaking around and sleeping with her boyfriend? Me! You stabbed her in the back without a second thought, all because you couldn¡¯t stand her having something you wanted. And now you have the guts to lecture me on loyalty? You¡¯re a hypocrite, through and through. A maniptive, envious snake in designer clothes."


    Sarai recoiled as if pped, her sharp features twisting in a mix of rage and hurt. But Jason wasn¡¯t done. He pointed toward the door, his voice thundering now, all pretense of calm shattered. "Get out, Sarai. Leave my house. I have important things to do¡ªreal ns that don¡¯t involve you or your lies. Go!"


    Stubbornness red in her like a wildfire. She nted her feet, arms akimbo, her green eyes zing defiance. "No! I¡¯m not leaving until you face this, Jason. You can¡¯t just¡ª"


    That was the breaking point. Jason¡¯s patience snapped like a taut wire. He lunged forward, grabbing the letter and scan from the table in one swift motion. His other hand mped around her arm¡ªrough, unyielding, ignoring any pretense of gentleness despite her supposed pregnancy. Sarai gasped, her eyes widening in shock as he dragged her toward the door. "Jason! Stop! You¡¯re hurting me!" she screamed, her voice a shrill mix of fury and fear, her free hand wing at his grip. Her heelsy forgotten on the floor, and she stumbled barefoot, the red dress hiking up in the struggle. "Let go! How dare you treat me like this? I¡¯m carrying your child!"


    He didn¡¯t relent, his face a mask of cold determination, hazel eyes devoid of sympathy. "You should¡¯ve left when I asked," he growled, yanking open the door with his free hand. With a final shove, he pushed her out into the hallway. Sarai stumbled, her bnce failing as shended hard on the polished corridor floor, her ponytailing loose in a flow of glossy ck waves. Pain shot through her knees, but it was the humiliation that burned hottest¡ªa searing wound to her pride.


    Jason hurled her shoes and handbag after her, the contents spilling out in a chaotic tumble: lipstick, phone, keys ttering across the tiles. The letter and scan fluttered down like discarded confetti. "And take your crap with you!" he bellowed, mming the door with a resounding bang that reverberated through the building.


    Alone in the hallway, Sarai sat there for a moment, stunned, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Fury boiled within her, hot and unrelenting, mingling with the sting of tears she refused to let fall. She pushed herself up, wincing at the ache in her arm where his fingers had dug in, her once smooth skin already blooming with faint bruises. Gathering her spilled belongings with trembling hands, she shoved the letter back into her bag, her mind racing.


    "That bastard," she hissed to herself, her voice a venomous whisper as she smoothed her disheveled dress. "All because of her. Eliana. He won¡¯t even look at me, won¡¯t acknowledge our child, because he¡¯s obsessed with that worthless girl." Her face hardened, the sharp green eyes narrowing into slits of pure determination. A dark resolve settled over her like a cloak, pushing aside the humiliation and fueling a vengeful fire. "Fine. If Eliana¡¯s the obstacle, I¡¯ll remove her. Permanently. Make her disappear from the surface of the earth. Then let¡¯s see what Jason does without his precious little forgiver. He¡¯lle crawling back to me¡ªbegging."


    With a final re at the closed door, Sarai snatched up her heels, slipping them on with gritted teeth. Her steps echoed down the hallway as she stomped away, the click-ck of her heels a rhythmic promise of retribution. In her mind, the n was already forming¡ªshadowy connections from her socialite world, whispers of hired hands, idents that could be arranged. Eliana Bet wouldn¡¯t know what hit her. And when the dust settled, Sarai would have everything: Jason, the baby, the empire. Power recognized power, after all. And she would wield it without mercy.

 Chapter 56: The Escape

    <h4>Chapter 56: The Escape</h4>


    The moon sagged low in the sky, a pale silver disc hovering above the Vexley estate like it was standing guard. Its glow spilled over the sculptedwns and the endless hedges trimmed so perfectly they looked unnatural, hemming in the mansion like a fortress. The estate slept, but not peacefully¡ªthe silence was too sharp, too watchful, as though even the trees and the wind knew this house was a ce of secrets and betrayals.


    Upstairs, in the grand bedroom that belonged to her only in name, Eliana Bet walked in frantic circles. The plush ivory carpet swallowed the sound of her bare feet, but it did nothing to soften her agitation. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and every turn she made only pressed the walls in tighter. A crystal chandelier glittered above her, its prisms scattering moonlight across the silk-draped four-poster bed. To anyone else, the room would have been a dream¡ªluxury carved into every detail. To Eliana, it was just a cage dressed in silk.


    Her stomach cramped with hunger, a hollow, twisting ache. She had refused food all day, her silent protest against the prison she was forced to endure. The dizziness came in waves now, each spell tugging her closer to copse, but the ache in her chest¡ªborn of longing, fear, and desperation¡ªwas far heavier. She dragged her fingers through her curls, the strands messy and knotted from hours of pacing and tossing, and whispered aloud, as though reminding herself she still had a voice:


    "I can¡¯t stay here another night."


    The words shook, but they didn¡¯t break.


    Her gaze flicked to the heavy oak door, memory shing of the guard stationed there earlier. His expression had been of pity, helplessness, but his words final: <i>"Orders from Mr. Vexley, ma¡¯am. No one leaves without his clearance today. Especially not you."</i> The sentence hadnded like a lock clicking shut inside her chest.


    The estate was built to keep people in as much as it was to keep them out. Cameras blinked from the corners of every hall, guards moved like shadows across the grounds, and the electronic locks on the doors hissed with quiet menace. Still, Eliana¡¯s thoughts clung to the one fragile hope she had: ra.


    ra, the maid who always looked at her differently¡ªnot with suspicion or contempt, but with something gentler, something like understanding. She wasn¡¯t much older than Eliana, maybe the same age, but she carried herself with the tired grace of someone used to serving quietly in the background. From the beginning, ra had offered kindness without reason: sneaking her an extra slice of bread at breakfast, smoothing her nkets when Eliana couldn¡¯t use one of her hands after the ident. And in this house¡ªlike in every grand house¡ªEliana knew the truth. The maids saw and heard everything.


    She prayed ra would choose mercy tonight.


    The antique clock on the wall ticked with suffocating patience, each second dragging. Finally, when the hands pushed past two, Eliana forced her trembling fingers to work. She pulled on her old jeans, worn at the knees, and a faded sweater that still smelled faintly of the life she had been ripped from. Her suitcase¡ªthe small box she had refused to unpack¡ªwaited by the bed like an unspoken promise. She gripped the handle and slipped toward the door.


    The hall beyond was dim, the light sconces burning low. Lavender drifted faintly in the air from the freshly changed linens, a scent meant to soothe, but tonight it only made her feel like throwing up.


    Her heart rammed against her ribs as she eased the door open a crack and peered out. Silence. Then¡ªfootsteps. Soft, measured, approaching steadily.


    Eliana froze, her throat tightening. She could already picture the guard¡¯s heavy hand shoving the door wide, the order barked through clenched teeth.


    But then, the figure came into view. Relief mmed into her chest. ra stood there, her dark hair pinned neatly back, a folded nket in her arms as though she were on some simple errand. Her expression was calm, practiced¡ªbut her eyes flicked to Eliana¡¯s suitcase and softened.


    "Miss Eliana?" ra whispered, her voiceced with concern. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her apron was still tied neatly, but her eyes held a knowing glint under the low light. "You¡¯re not asleep. I figured as much. You look like a ghost, dear¡ªpale and trembling."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes welled up, but she blinked back the tears. "ra, I... I have to get out of here. Rafael¡¯s locked me in like some prize he won. I can¡¯t breathe in this ce. My papa¡ªhe needs me. What if he¡¯s alone, wondering where I am? Please, you have to help me."


    ra hesitated, ncing over her shoulder as if the walls themselves might betray them. She was young, barely older than Eliana, with a round face framed by stray wisps of hair escaping her bun. Her hands fidgeted with the nket¡¯s edge. "Oh, darling, I know. I¡¯ve seen how he¡¯s been with you¡ªpossessive, like you¡¯re a fragile doll he¡¯ll break if he lets go. But the estate... it¡¯s guarded tighter than a bank vault. Cameras everywhere, rms on the doors."


    Eliana stepped closer, her voice dropping to a urgent plea. "There has to be a way. You¡¯re the only one who¡¯s been kind to me here. You know the back passages, the staff exits. ra, please. If I stay, I¡¯ll wither away. I¡¯ll help you in return¡ªanything. Just get me past the gates."


    ra¡¯s face softened, a maternal instinct kicking in despite her youth. She sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. "Alright, but only because I can¡¯t watch you suffer like this. Mr. Rafael means well, I think¡ªhe¡¯s just... broken inside. But you deserve your freedom." She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small keycard, the kind used for service doors. "There¡¯s a side entrance through the kitchen gardens. The guards rotate at 2:30; we¡¯ll have a five-minute window when the east wing camera glitches¡ªit¡¯s an old system glitch no one¡¯s fixed. I¡¯ll distract the night watchman with a false rm in the west wing."


    Eliana¡¯s heart soared, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. "Thank you, ra. I don¡¯t know how to repay you."


    ra pressed a wad of bills into Eliana¡¯s hand¡ªcrisp notes totaling a few hundred dors, her own savings from tips and overtime. "Take this. It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯ll get you a cab, some food. Head straight to the main road; don¡¯t look back. And Eliana... be careful. The world¡¯s not as kind as you are."


    Tears streamed down Eliana¡¯s face as she hugged ra tightly. "You¡¯re an angel. I¡¯ll never forget this."


    They moved like shadows through the house, ra leading the way down a narrow servants¡¯ staircase that creaked faintly under their weight. The air grew cooler,ced with the earthy scent of herbs from the kitchen garden. ra paused at a door, swiping the keycard. It beeped softly, unlocking with a click. Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the faint chirp of crickets. ra pointed to a hedge-lined path. "Go that way¡ªcrouch low. The gate¡¯s manual; twist thetch counterclockwise. I¡¯ll handle the distraction now."


    Eliana nodded, clutching her box. "Goodbye, ra. Stay safe."


    "Godspeed, dear," ra whispered, before slipping back inside.


    Eliana darted through the garden, her heart hammering like a drum. Thorns snagged at her sweater, but she pushed on, the cool grass damp under her shoes. She reached the gate, her fingers fumbling with thetch until it gave way with a metallic groan. Freedom rushed in like a wave¡ªthe open road beyond, dimly lit by streemps. She slipped out, the estate¡¯s lights fading behind her as she ran, her breathsing in sharp gasps.


    The city streets were empty at this hour, save for the asional passing car. Eliana gged down a cab after a tense ten-minute walk, her hands shaking as she handed over some of ra¡¯s money. "To St. Mary¡¯s Hospital, please. As fast as you can."


    The driver, a grizzled man with a thick beard, eyed her curiously but nodded. "Rough night, miss?"


    "You have no idea," she murmured, sinking into the seat as the cab sped off. Her mind raced with images of her father¡ªhis frail form, his kind smile fading under illness. "Papa, I¡¯ming. Hold on."


    The hospital loomed ahead, its emergency lights creating a sterile glow. Eliana burst through the doors, the antiseptic smell hitting her like a wall. She rushed to the reception desk, where a tired nurse in scrubs looked up from herputer.


    "Please," Eliana panted, leaning on the counter. "I¡¯m here for my father¡ªFrank Bet. Room 214. I need to see him right now."


    The nurse typed quickly, her brow furrowing. "Bet... Frank. Let me check." A pause stretched into eternity. "Ma¡¯am, your father was transferred four days ago. To another facility."


    Eliana¡¯s world tilted. "Transferred? What? By who? Where?"


    The nurse shook her head sympathetically. "I¡¯m sorry, the records don¡¯t specify the new hospital. It was arranged privately¡ªno forwarding details left here. Maybe check with his doctor?"


    Rage boiled up in Eliana, hot and blinding. "Privately? That means... Rafael." Her voice rose, drawing stares from a fewte-night visitors. "He did this. He took my papa to control me!"


    Storming out into the cool night air, Eliana fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Rafael¡¯s number. It rang once, twice, before he picked up, his voice groggy but alert.


    "Eliana? It¡¯s the middle of the night. What¡¯s¡ª"


    "Where is he, Rafael?" she snarled, her wordsced with venom. "Where did you transfer my father? You had no right! Give him back to me¡ªnow!"


    There was a stunned silence on the other end. Rafael¡¯s breath hitched, realization crashing over him like ice water. "Eliana... how are you calling from outside? You¡¯re supposed to be¡ªwait, you left? How did you¡ª"


    "Don¡¯t change the subject!" she shouted, pacing the hospital steps. "You locked me up, and now you¡¯ve hidden my papa? Is this your idea of protection? Controlling everything I care about?"


    "I... It¡¯s not what you think. I can exin everything," Rafael stammered, his usual sarcasm shattered. Confusionced his tone,ced with dawning panic. "Eliana, listen¡ªget back here. It¡¯s not safe out there. Mirabel¡ª"


    "Safe? With you?" Sheughed bitterly, tears streaming. "You¡¯re the danger! Tell me where he is, or I swear¡ª"


    The line crackled with his urgency. "Eliana, please. I swear on my life, I didn¡¯t move him to control you. Come back, and I¡¯ll exin everything to you."


    "Liar!" she cried, hanging up and switching off her phone in a fit of fury. Her chest heaved, the night air biting her skin.


    Inside the estate, Rafael Vexley sat bolt upright in his bed, the phone slipping from his hand. His grey eyes, no longer pretending to be clouded, widened in shock. "She¡¯s out," he muttered, his voice a hoarse whisper. "How the hell...?" His heart raced, a foreign terror gripping him¡ªnot for his secrets, but for her safety. He swung his legs over the bed, grabbing his wheelchair and wheeling himself out of his room with frantic speed. The halls were silent, the estate¡¯s grandeur mocking his desperation.


    He reached Eliana¡¯s door, pounding on it. "Eliana? Open up!" No answer. He tried the handle¡ªunlocked. Pushing inside, the room hit him like a void: bed neatly made, her box gone, the air still carrying her faint floral scent. "No... no, this can¡¯t be." He wheeled around, searching futilely. Panic wed at him, raw and unfiltered. "ra!" he bellowed into the inte. "Get security¡ªnow!"


    Back at the hospital, Eliana wiped her tears, determination steeling her. "I have to confront him in person. Demand answers." She stormed toward the road, hailing a cab under the streetlights. One slowed, but before she could reach it, a ck SUV screeched to a halt in front of her, blocking her path. The door flew open, and two burly men in dark suits lunged out.


    "What¡ªhey!" Eliana screamed, dropping her box as one grabbed her arm, the other snatching her belongings. "Let go of me!"


    "Quiet, miss," one growled, his grip irond as they hauled her into the vehicle. The door mmed shut, tires squealing as the SUV sped into the night.


    Eliana thrashed against the leather seats, her cries muffled by the tinted windows. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"


    No response¡ªjust the hum of the engine and the pounding of her heart.


    Miles away, Rafael paced his study, discarding his wheelchair, phone in hand. He dialed Eliana again and again, but each time, it went straight to voicemail. "Switched off," he whispered, dread pooling in his gut. "Eliana... what have I done?"


    The estate felt emptier than ever, the shadows closing in as the night deepened.


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 Chapter 57: The Search

    <h4>Chapter 57: The Search</h4>


    The Vexley estate, usually so perfectly controlled and intimidating, felt strangely empty that night. The kind of silence that wasn¡¯t peaceful, but heavy¡ªlike the whole house was holding its breath. Outside, the moon hung low against the dark sky, its silver glow spilling across the neatwns and tall hedges. Inside, the air carried a tension so sharp it clung to the skin.


    Rafael moved quickly through the dim corridors, panic etched into his face. His hands gripped the arms of his wheelchair so tightly that they turned white, but the truth was slipping through¡ªhis movements were too smooth, too fluid to match the image he showed the world. His sharp grey eyes darted everywhere, scanning the shadows as though the walls themselves might give him an answer.


    When he reached the security room, he shoved the door open so hard it crashed against the wall. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the stillness. Blue light from the rows of monitors lit up his face in a harsh glow.


    "Pull the footage. Now," Rafael snapped, his voice rough with urgency.


    The guard on duty¡ªGeorge, a big man with a thick neck and jittery hands¡ªnearly leapt out of his chair, knocking his coffee over in the process.


    "Y-yes, sir. What... what do you want me to pull exactly?" he stammered, fumbling at the keyboard.


    "From tonight. Everything. The gardens, the gates, the servants¡¯ exits¡ªdon¡¯t make me repeat myself," Rafael growled, leaning forward. His dark hair slipped into his eyes as he scanned the screens himself, as if he didn¡¯t trust anyone else to look hard enough.


    George¡¯s fingers shook as he rewound the tapes. The images sped backward in a blur of shadows and movement. Minutes stretched unbearably long before slowing to real time again. The gardens looked calm, almost mocking in their stillness. The hedges swayedzily in the night breeze. The gates stood closed, solid, silent. Not a flicker of movement, not a shadow slipping through.


    "I... I don¡¯t see anything, sir, " George whispered, swallowing hard.


    Rafael¡¯s breath caught. His chest rose and fell like he¡¯d just been struck. He stared at the screen as though he could will the truth to appear there.


    "Nothing?" His voice cracked with a mix of disbelief and fury. His hand mmed against the arm of the wheelchair. "That¡¯s not possible. She couldn¡¯t have just vanished!"


    George zoomed in, switching angles. "Sir, I... I don¡¯t see anyone. No motion detected. It¡¯s like she was a ghost."


    Rafael¡¯s heart pounded like a war drum in his chest. "A ghost? Don¡¯t be absurd. Someone helped her. y it again and look harder!" But the screens revealed the same void. Eliana, with her slender frame and flowing curly hair, had slipped through his irond security like smoke. Shock rippled through him, cold and unrelenting. How? Who? The questions burned in his mind, fueling a fear he hadn¡¯t felt in years¡ªnot since the crash that had scarred him so deeply.


    He wheeled back, mming his fist on the console. "Damn it!" Grabbing his phone, he dialed James with trembling fingers. James, his trusted confidant and secretary, answered on the second ring, his voice groggy from sleep.


    "Mr Vexley? It¡¯s three in the morning. What¡¯s going on?"


    "James, she¡¯s gone!" Rafael¡¯s words tumbled out in a desperate rush, his usual sarcasm shattered. "Eliana left the house. She escaped somehow¡ªslipped right past everything. And now she¡¯s not answering her phone. It¡¯s switched off. I... I don¡¯t know what to do."


    There was a pause, the sound of rustling sheets on the other end. "Whoa, slow down, boss. Escaped? How? You had the ce locked down tighter than Fort Knox."


    "I don¡¯t know! The cameras show nothing. Absolutely nothing. It¡¯s like she was never here." Rafael¡¯s voice cracked, a vulnerability creeping in that surprised even him. "She called me earlier, furious. Screaming about her father. She went to the hospital and found out he was transferred. She thinks I did it to control her."


    James let out a low whistle. "Transferred? But you did that for his safety. To protect him from Mirabel¡¯s reach."


    "Yes, but she doesn¡¯t know that! She hung up on me, James. mmed the phone down like I was the enemy." Rafael paced now, abandoning the wheelchair entirely in his agitation, his tall frame forming long shadows on the walls. "She was so angry... I¡¯ve never heard her like that. Broken. Betrayed."


    "Alright, calm down," James said firmly, his tone shifting to the steady reassurance of a man used to crises. "Think about it. The only ce she¡¯d go in a panic like that is the hospital to see her old man. She¡¯s probably still there, cooling off."


    Rafael shook his head, though James couldn¡¯t see it. "No. No, I feel it in my gut. Something¡¯s wrong. She¡¯s not safe out there. Mirabel¡¯s people... they could be anywhere."


    James sighed, the sound heavy with understanding. "Okay, I get it. You¡¯re worried. Tell you what¡ªI¡¯ll head over to St. Mary¡¯s right now. Check the ce out, talk to the staff, pull their CCTV if I have to. We¡¯ll find her."


    "Please, James," Rafael begged, the word foreign on his lips. He, the billionaire recluse whomanded empires, reduced to pleading. "Hurry. I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t lose her."


    "I¡¯m on it, boss. Sit tight." The line went dead, and Rafael stared at his phone, his chest heaving.


    Outside, James threw on a jacket over his pajamas, his mind racing. The cool night air pped his face as he slid into his car, the engine roaring to life. The drive to St. Mary¡¯s was a blur of empty streets and shing streetlights, his thoughts fixed on Eliana¡ªthe kind-hearted girl who¡¯d somehow thawed his boss¡¯s frozen heart.


    Back at the estate, Rafael¡¯s fingers flew across his phone again, this time texting his mysterious friend, his shadowy ally known only through encrypted channels.<i> "Eliana ran out of the house tonight. She¡¯s not answering calls¡ªphone¡¯s off. I think something¡¯s happened." </i>


    The response came almost immediately, the friend¡¯s worry palpable even in text. <i>"What? Rafael, this is exactly what I warned you about. You stopped her from leaving when she wanted to go, and now look. She¡¯s exposed. Mirabel¡¯swork is vast; they could have eyes everywhere." </i>


    Rafael¡¯s thumbs hovered, his reply frantic<i>. "I know, damn it. I was trying to protect her. Just... help me find her. Please." </i>


    <i>"Calm down," </i>the friend texted back.<i> "I¡¯ll activate my contacts. Pull strings in the underground channels. If anyone¡¯s seen her, I¡¯ll know. But Rafael, you need to stayposed. Panicking won¡¯t help." </i>


    Rafael nodded to himself, drawing a shaky breath. Butposure was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford. He stormed into the staff quarters, flipping on lights and bellowing like a thunderp. "Everyone up! Now!"


    The household staff stumbled out of their rooms, bleary-eyed and confused¡ªmaids in nightgowns, cooks with tousled hair, gardeners rubbing sleep from their eyes. ra lingered at the back, her face a mask of feigned innocence, though her heart raced.


    "Who let her out?" Rafael demanded, his voice echoing off the walls like a judge¡¯s gavel. He wheeled closer, his piercing eyes scanning each face not thinking about someone catching the fact that he wasn¡¯t blind. "Eliana left in the dead of night. Someone helped her. Who was it?"


    A chorus of denials erupted. "Not me, sir!" one maid squeaked, her hands twisting in her apron.


    "I was asleep the whole time," the cook protested, his voice trembling.


    "I swear, Mr. Vexley, I saw nothing," another added, eyes wide with fear.


    Rafael¡¯s sarcasm surfaced amid the chaos, bitter and biting. "Oh, really? She just sprouted wings and flew over the walls? Someone¡¯s lying!" He pointed towards ra¡¯s direction, his gaze fighting to remain unfocused. "ra. You were close to her. Did you see anything?"


    ra met his eyes steadily, her kind face unflinching. "No, sir. Nothing at all. I wish I had¡ªI¡¯d have stopped her. It¡¯s dangerous out there."


    He grilled them for what felt like hours, his questions sharp as daggers, but each swore ignorance. Frustration boiled over; he dismissed them with a wave, retreating to his study where the walls seemed to close in. The clock ticked mercilessly, each second a torment.


    His phone buzzed¡ªJames. Rafael answered instantly. "What did you find?"


    James¡¯s voice was grim, urgent. "Boss, you were right. Something happened. I got to the hospital, shed my credentials, and pulled their exterior CCTV. Eliana was here, alright. She stormed out after talking to the nurse, tried to hail a cab. But then... a ck SUV pulled up. Two guys jumped out, grabbed her, shoved her inside. It was a clean snatch¡ªprofessional."


    Rafael¡¯s world spun. He gripped the desk, his knuckles turning white. "Kidnapped? No... no, this can¡¯t be." His voice rose to a roar. "Find out who! Trace the tes, hack the traffic cams¡ªwhatever it takes! I¡¯m going to make them pay, James. They¡¯ll regret ever touching her. Teach them a lesson they¡¯ll carry to their graves!"


    "I¡¯m on it," James assured, though his tone held a note of concern for his friend¡¯s unraveling state. "We¡¯ll get her back. Hang in there."


    As the call ended, miles away in the back of that very SUV, Eliana thrashed against her restraints, her brown eyes zing with fury and fear. The vehicle hurtled through the dark city streets, the hum of the engine a sinister luby. The two burly men sat stoically in the front, their faces illuminated by the dashboard glow¡ªstone-cold, unyielding.


    "Let me go!" Eliana screamed, her voice hoarse from the struggle. She kicked at the seat in front of her, her long curly hair whipping around her face. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"


    The driver, a hulking figure with a scar across his cheek, nced in the rearview mirror but said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line.


    "I said, release me!" she yelled again, tears of rage streaming down her warm brown skin. Her slender hands tugged at the zip ties binding her wrists, the stic biting into her flesh. "This is kidnapping! You¡¯ll go to jail for this!"


    The passenger, slimmer but no less intimidating, pulled out his phone, ignoring her pleas. He dialed a number, his voice low and businesslike. "Yeah, we got her. Clean grab outside the hospital. She¡¯s feisty, but contained." A pause, then, "Waiting for Mr. Jason¡¯s next orders. Where do we take her?"


    Eliana froze, her breath catching in her throat. Jason? The name hit her like a thunderbolt, shattering her world anew. Her hazel-eyed childhood friend, the man she once loved with all her heart¡ªthe golden boy with the charming smile who¡¯d betrayed her with Sarai. He was behind this? Shock morphed into a whirlwind of emotions: betrayal, confusion, a spark of dark humor at the absurdity. "Jason?" she whispered, then louder, her voice trembling. "Jason sent you? That spineless coward? What the hell does he want now?"


    The men exchanged a nce but remained silent, the SUV speeding deeper into the night, leaving Eliana to grapple with the fresh wound of yet another betrayal.


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 Chapter 58: Sister’s Love

    <h4>Chapter 58: Sister¡¯s Love</h4>


    Four days ago, before the shadowy SUV swallowed Eliana Bet into the night, Jason Asher¡¯s penthouse was still buzzing from the fallout of his brutal rejection of Sarai¡¯s pregnancy. Sarai Monroe had stormed away, fury and heartbreak dripping from every step, and vanished into the sanctuary of her private hostel¡ªthe same ce she¡¯d once made sure Eliana was kicked out of.


    The drive back to her hostel was a blur of cars and angry horns. Her grip on the steering wheel was painfully tight, her vision hazy with tears that refused to stop. Every red light felt like a trap, every passing car another reminder of how fast her world was spinning out of control. She pressed harder on the gas than she should have, as if speed could outrun the words Jason had hurled at her. Sadness sat heavy in her chest, but rage burned just beneath it¡ªrage at him, at Eliana, at herself for letting her guard down.


    By the time she pulled into the hostel¡¯s garage, her eyeliner had smeared into a smoky mess, and the silence inside the car was deafening. She stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against the steering wheel, her breath shuddering as she tried to swallow down the sobs wing their way out.


    When she finally dragged herself through the quiet, art lined, corridors of the hostel, every step felt heavier than thest. By the time she reached her suite, her chest burned with a mix of anger and exhaustion. She shoved the door closed behind her, the m echoing across the wide, empty room. The silence that followed pressed in on her, making the space feel evenrger, even lonelier.


    She tore off her heels, hurling them across the velvet carpet, and dropped onto her silk-draped bed. The soft mattress caught her as she copsed face-first, her body trembling with the weight of unspoken words and bottled fury. The mascara she¡¯d spent half an hour perfecting that morning now bled down her face, ck streaks cutting through the mask she had built so carefully.


    Sobs wracked Sarai¡¯s body, deep and guttural, as she buried her face in a feather pillow. "How could he do this to me?" she wailed into the fabric, her voice muffled but raw. "After everything... I gave him my heart, my body, and he throws me out like trash?" The tears came faster, hot and unrelenting, soaking the pillow. Her mind reyed the scene: his grip, the shove, the m. Humiliation twisted into rage. "Eliana. It¡¯s all her fault. That naive little bitch with her hopeful smiles and poor-girl charm. She doesn¡¯t deserve him. I do!"


    She punched the mattress, her manicured nails digging in. "I¡¯ll kill her. No matter what it takes. I¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s gone forever. Then Jason will have no choice¡ªhe¡¯ll be mine. All mine." The words spilled out like venom, repeated like a mantra as she rocked back and forth, her glossy hair tangling around her tear-streaked face. "Die, Eliana. Just die."


    The bedroom inte buzzed once, twice, three times, piercing the haze of her grief. Sarai ignored it at first, her sobs drowning it out. But on the third ring, she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing more mascara. She stumbled to the console on her nightstand, pressing the button with a shaky finger. "What?" she snapped, her voice hoarse.


    "Miss Monroe," came the security guard¡¯s polite but firm tone through the speaker. "This is front desk security. Your sister, Bianca Monroe, is here to see you. Shall I send her up?"


    Sarai¡¯s heart leaped. Bianca. If there was anyone she loved more than Jason¡ªmore than the thrill of maniption or the gleam of designerbels¡ªit was her elder sister. Bianca, at 27, was her rock, her confidant, the one who had taught her how to navigate the cutthroat world of the elite. With Bianca¡¯s sharp mind and ruthless advice, Sarai had climbed socialdders and crushed rivals. And now, in her darkest hour, Bianca was here. She would know what to do¡ªhow to make Jason ept the "baby," how to im him once and for all.


    A flicker of hope cut through the despair. "Yes," Sarai said, her voice steadier now. "Let her through. Right away."


    She hung up and paced the room, trying topose herself. The spacious suite, with its minimalist decor¡ªwhite leather couches, a crystal chandelier, and a balcony overlooking twinkling city lights¡ªfelt less oppressive now. She nced in the full-length mirror, wincing at her reflection: red-rimmed eyes, smeared makeup, disheveled dress. But Bianca wouldn¡¯t judge. Bianca understood.


    Minutester, a soft knock echoed. Sarai rushed to the door, flinging it open. There stood Bianca, a vision of poised elegance. Her beautiful warm skin glowed under the hallway lights, her sharp green eyes¡ªmirroring Sarai¡¯s own¡ªsoftened with concern. Her jet-ck hair was styled in loose waves, and she wore a tailored ck pantsuit that screamed power, essorized with diamond earrings and a designer clutch.


    "Sarai, darling," Bianca said, stepping inside and enveloping her in a hug that smelled of expensive perfume¡ªjasmine and ambition. But as she pulled back, her eyes widened at the sight: Sarai looked sad, her hair¡ªfor the first time ever¡ªlooked unkempt, mascara rivers drying on her cheeks. "Oh my God, what happened? You look like you¡¯ve been through hell. Tell me everything."


    Sarai copsed back onto the bed, fresh tears spilling. "It¡¯s Jason, Bianca. He¡¯s still hung up on that pathetic Eliana. I... I told him I was pregnant today. Thought it would finally make him see me, choose me. But he denied it! Called it a lie and... and he manhandled me out of his penthouse like some criminal!"


    Bianca¡¯s face darkened, her sharp features twisting in fury. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand gripping Sarai¡¯s shoulder. "He did what? That entitled prick! Tell me exactly what happened. Did he hurt you?"


    Sarai nodded, pulling up her sleeve to reveal the faint bruises. "He grabbed my arm, dragged me to the door, shoved me out. Threw my things after me like I was garbage. All because he can¡¯t let go of her. Eliana this, Eliana that. I hate her, Bianca. I hate her so much."


    Bianca¡¯s green eyes zed. "That bastard. How dare hey a hand on you? You¡¯re a Monroe¡ªwe don¡¯t get treated like that. And this pregnancy... are you really pregnant, Sarai? Be honest with me."


    Sarai hesitated, then shook her head, her voice small. "No. I¡¯m not. But I thought... I thought it would secure him. Make himmit. Forge the papers, y the part¡ªboom, he¡¯s mine."


    Bianca stared for a moment, then burst intoughter¡ªa rich, throaty sound that filled the room. She clutched her sides, her diamond rings shing. "Oh, Sarai, you clever little schemer! Faking a pregnancy? That¡¯s bold, even for you. Hrious, really."


    But Sarai¡¯s face crumpled, more tears flowing. "Don¡¯tugh! It¡¯s not funny. I¡¯m serious, Bianca. I want Eliana dead. Gone. If she¡¯s out of the picture, Jason won¡¯t have anyone else to obsess over. He¡¯lle to me."


    Bianca¡¯sughter faded, reced by a knowing smile. She wiped a tear from Sarai¡¯s cheek with her thumb. "Oh, sweetie. I agree¡ªEliana needs to be eliminated. But killing her? That¡¯s no fun at all. Trust me, it would just make Jason sad, plunge him into depression. And then what? You¡¯d be stuck with a moping, broken man who¡¯d be a burden to you. I know from experience."


    Sarai blinked, curiosity cutting through her sobs. "Experience? You mean... your ex? The one who ¡¯disappeared¡¯?"


    Bianca nodded, her expression turning somber, almost nostalgic. "Exactly. Remember Derek? I thought killing him would solve everything¡ªend his cheating, clear the path. But the guilt, the mess... it weighed on me. And if I¡¯d been with someone else, they¡¯d have turned into a shell. No, we need something better for Eliana. Something that twists the knife."


    Sarai sat up, intrigued despite her misery. "Like what?"


    Bianca leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "Instead of killing her, we disfigure her. Scar her face, ruin that ¡¯natural elegance¡¯ she prances around with. Make her so hideous that Jason can¡¯t even look at her without gagging. But here¡¯s the best part¡ªwe make Eliana believe Jason orchestrated it all. nt evidence, whisper lies. Imagine her heartbreak, thinking her precious golden boy turned into an unrecognizable monster. That satisfaction? Priceless."


    Sarai¡¯s eyes widened, a slow smile creeping across her lips. "Disfigure her... and frame Jason? God, that¡¯s brilliant. She¡¯d hate him forever. But what if he gets in trouble? What if she goes to the police and uses him?"


    Bianca waved a dismissive hand, chuckling softly. "use him all she wants, but without proof? It¡¯s her word against his. And since he didn¡¯t actually do it, there¡¯ll be no evidence¡ªno calls, no payments, nothing traceable to him. Thew needs facts, not stories from a disfigured girl crying wolf. We¡¯ll be ghosts in this. And you don¡¯t have to worry about the kidnapping, I¡¯ll take care of it."


    Sarai¡¯s tears dried as excitement sparked in her green eyes. "You¡¯d do that for me? Handle the kidnapping, all of it?"


    Bianca pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her hair like when they were kids. "Of course, darling. I hate seeing you sad like this¡ªit breaks my heart. You¡¯re my little sister, my fierce partner in crime. I¡¯ll make you happy again. We¡¯ll turn this around, and soon Jason will be begging at your feet."


    Sarai clung to her, the weight lifting. "Thank you, Bianca. I love you."


    "I love you more," Bianca said with a sly smile, masking the storm behind her eyes. In her world, whatever Sarai wanted, Sarai would always im. No matter what.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 59: Whispers from the Underground

    <h4>Chapter 59: Whispers from the Underground</h4>


    The night outside was heavy and endless, the kind that seemed to swallow every bit of light. The SUV sped through the darkness, headlights shing past the asional streemp before everything fell back into shadow again. Eliana sat in the backseat, her hands behind her back, were pulled tight in the zip ties until her slender wrists burned. Her chest ached with every wild beat of her heart, disbelief crashing over her like waves she couldn¡¯t escape.


    She stared at the broad shoulders of the two men in front¡ªsilent, unshaken, as if they were nothing more than stone figures meant to guard her prison. None of this felt real. Jason? The man she had once pictured a future with, who had held her face and whispered about forever¡ªwas he really behind this? She¡¯d forgiven his arrogance, his selfish streak, even his betrayal with Sarai, her so-called best friend. But this? It couldn¡¯t be. He was spoiled, yes, narcissistic even, but kidnapping? This was a new low, a plunge into darkness she never imagined he¡¯d take.


    Her throat tightened. She thought she knew the limits of his cruelty. Clearly, she¡¯d been wrong.


    "Jason wouldn¡¯t do this," Eliana whispered, her head shaking as though the motion itself could undo the nightmare she was trapped in. Her voice cracked, caught somewhere between denial and fury. Her honey eyes glistened, tears threatening but refusing to fall, burning instead as if they were fire behind hershes.


    She shifted desperately in her seat, the stic bite of the restraints digging deeper as she fought against them. Her curls, usually free and soft, were stered against her damp skin, sticking to the warm brown of her face after the struggle. "He can¡¯t... he wouldn¡¯t stoop this low. This has to be a mistake." Her voice rose, breaking now under the weight of fear. She twisted again, her words spilling out raw, almost frantic.


    "Let me go! Please¡ªjust let me go!"


    The driver, a hulking figure with a jagged scar snaking across his cheek like a lightning bolt frozen in time, kept his eyes fixed on the road, his massive hands gripping the wheel with practiced indifference. His partner, slimmer but no less menacing, with a tattoo peeking out from under his cor like a whispered threat, fiddled with a phone in hisp, ignoring her pleas as if she were nothing more than background noise.


    "I said, release me!" Eliana¡¯s voice rose to a scream, raw and piercing, cutting through the hum of the engine. She kicked at the seat in front of her, her sneakers thudding uselessly against the leather. "You can¡¯t just take someone like this! It¡¯s illegal¡ªkidnapping! Do you hear me? You¡¯ll rot in jail for this! Jason will deny everything, you know that? He¡¯ll throw you under the bus!"


    The passenger finally nced back, his eyes cold and detached, like chips of ice in the dim light. "Shut your trap,dy. We¡¯re just doing a job."


    "A job? For Jason?" Elianaughed bitterly, the sound edged with hysteria, her full lips curling in disbelief. "That entitled prick couldn¡¯t n his way out of a paper bag without his parents¡¯ money. This is insane! Let me out right now, or I¡¯ll scream until the whole city hears!"


    She did just that, her screams echoing inside the confined space, a torrent of fury and fear. "Help! Somebody help me! These men are kidnapping me! Jason Asher sent them¡ªJason Asher!"


    The driver grunted, his scar twitching as he clenched his jaw. "Mel, shut her up before she draws attention."


    Mel, the passenger with the tattoo, sighed heavily, as if this were an annoying chore rather than a felony. He reached into the glovepartment, pulling out a roll of duct tape with a deliberate slowness that made Eliana¡¯s blood run cold. "You heard the man, sweetheart. Time to quiet down."


    "No¡ªdon¡¯t you dare!" Eliana thrashed harder, her slender frame bucking against the restraints, but Mel was quicker. He leaned over the seat, his rough hands mping down on her shoulders as he tore off a strip of tape. The adhesive smell filled her nostrils, sharp and chemical, as he pressed it firmly over her mouth, muffling her cries into desperate, guttural moans. Her eyes widened in terror, tears streaming down her cheeks, soaking into the tape. She red at him with all the fire she could muster, but inside, a wave of helplessness crashed over her. How had her life unraveled to this¡ªtied up in a stranger¡¯s car, betrayed by the man she¡¯d once loved?


    Satisfied, Mel settled back, wiping his hands on his jeans. "There. Peace and quiet."


    The SUV veered off the main road, tires crunching over gravel as they pulled into a secluded spot near an abandoned warehouse. The building loomed like a forgotten giant, its rusted walls etched with graffiti, windows shattered like broken promises. Weeds choked the cracked pavement, and the air hung heavy with the scent of decay and distant rain. The men killed the engine, plunging the area into eerie silence broken only by the asional hoot of an owl or the rustle of wind through overgrown bushes.


    "Alright, we¡¯re here," the driver said, his voice a low rumble. "Now we wait for the next word from the client."


    Mel nodded, pulling out his phone again. His thumbs flew over the screen as he typed a quick message: <i>Got the package. Parked at the spot. Awaiting instructions.</i>


    Miles away, in the opulent glow of Bianca Monroe¡¯s luxurious apartment, the room was saturated with the scent ofvender candles and expensive perfume. The room was a testament to wealth¡ªplush leather sofas, crystal chandeliers forming rainbows on the walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline. Bianca, with her sharp green eyes and glossy ck hair pulled into a sleek bun, lounged on a chaise, her diamond rings glinting as she scrolled through her phone. Beside her on the massive four-poster bed, Sarai Monroe sat cross-legged, her light brown skin flushed with anticipation, her own green eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and malice. The sisters were inseparable, two peas in a pod, their bond forged in shared schemes and whispered secrets.


    Bianca¡¯s phone buzzed, and she nced at the screen, a wicked smile curving her lips. "Oh, Sarai, darling, look at this. Mel just texted¡ªthey¡¯ve got her. Eliana¡¯s in their hands, parked and waiting like amb to the ughter."


    Sarai¡¯s face lit up, her fierce beauty twisting into a triumphant grin. She pped her hands together, the sound sharp and gleeful. "Finally! That pathetic little nobody is right where she belongs. Tell him, Bianca¡ªtell Mel to get on with it. Disfigure her face. Make sure it¡¯s ugly, irreversible. I want Jason to puke at the sight of her."


    Bianca chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that echoed her earlierughter, her elegant fingers already tapping out the message. "You¡¯re ruthless, little sister. I love it. Alright, sending now: <i>Proceed with the n. Disfigure her face¡ªmake it count." </i>She hit send, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "There. It¡¯s done. Soon, Eliana will be a monster, and Jason will be all yours."


    But on Mel¡¯s end, in the shadowed seclusion near the warehouse, things were unraveling fast. His phone vibrated again¡ªnot with Bianca¡¯s message, but an iing call. He frowned, stepping out of the SUV into the cool night air, the gravel crunching under his boots. The caller ID read "Rico," an old contact from the underground circuit, someone who always had his ear to the ground.


    "Yo, Mel, what the hell have you gotten into?" Rico¡¯s voice crackled through the line, urgent andced with panic. "That girl you just snatched? She¡¯s Austin Miller¡¯s person. Not just some fling¡ªthe real deal. And get this, she¡¯s tied to that billionaire Rafael Vexley too. As we speak, every underground boss in the country¡¯s mobilizing. Austin¡¯s got ¡¯em all hunting for her. You touch a hair on her head, and you¡¯re done. Erased. Family too."


    Mel¡¯s blood turned to ice, his tattooed hand shaking as he gripped the phone. Austin Miller¡ªthe name alone sent shivers through the criminal world. The biggest mafia head in the country, a man whose reputation for brutality was legendary. Stories of rivals vanishing without a trace, entire operations dismantled overnight. And Rafael Vexley? The enigmatic billionaire with fingers in every pie, his influence a web of power that could crush anyone. Mel¡¯s mind raced¡ªBianca was an old college friend who¡¯d bailed him out financially more times than he could count, and this job was his way to repay her. But now? With Austin and Rafael involved? He had a wife, kids¡ªa family he couldn¡¯t risk. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill.


    "Shit, Rico, thanks for the heads-up," Mel whispered, his voice hoarse. "I owe you big time."


    He hung up, ncing back at the SUV where Eliana¡¯s muffled whimpers filtered through the window. Bianca¡¯s text had juste through, glowing on his screen like a death warrant: <i>Proceed with the n. Disfigure her face¡ªmake it count.</i> No way in hell. He pocketed the phone and dialed Bianca¡¯s number, his heart hammering.


    Back in the apartment, Bianca¡¯s phone rang, the trill cutting through the celebratory atmosphere. She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow, surprised. "It¡¯s Mel. Calling instead of texting? That¡¯s odd." She answered on the first ring, her voice smooth and expectant. "Mel? Everything alright? I just sent the go-ahead."


    "Bianca, we got a problem," Mel said, his tone low and urgent, pacing in the shadows. "Huge problem. That girl¡ªEliana¡ªshe¡¯s connected. Austin Miller¡¯s involved. She¡¯s his person, and Rafael Vexley¡¯s in the mix too. Every underground boss is out looking for her right now. If we touch her, we¡¯re dead. All of us. I got a family, Bianca¡ªI can¡¯t do this."


    Bianca¡¯s green eyes widened, her sharp features paling as she turned to Sarai, who was perched on the bed, looking hopeful, her glossy hair catching the light. "What? Austin Miller? The mafia kingpin? And Vexley?" She paused, her mind whirling. "Don¡¯t do anything, Mel. Hold tight. Let me think this through¡ªI¡¯ll call you back."


    She ended the call, her hand trembling slightly as she set the phone down. Sarai leaned forward, her excitement fading into confusion at the shift in her sister¡¯s demeanor. "Bianca? What¡¯s going on? Is it done? Did they mess up her face yet?"


    Bianca whirled to face her, her voice dropping to a serious, almost usatory tone, the room¡¯s luxury suddenly feeling ustrophobic. "Sarai, why the hell didn¡¯t you tell me Eliana was involved with Austin Miller and Rafael Vexley? This changes everything!"


    Sarai blinked, her green eyes clouding with genuine bewilderment, her manicured nails digging into the silk bedspread. "Involved with who? Austin Miller? What are you talking about, Bianca? I have no idea what that means¡ªshe¡¯s just some poor girl who a senile old man decided to adopt¡ªand he¡¯s gone now. Dead. So how could she possibly have ties to Austin Miller? Rafael Vexley, sure, I get that. But Austin?"

 Chapter 60: Change of Plans

    <h4>Chapter 60: Change of ns</h4>


    Bianca Monroe¡¯s apartment was the kind of ce that felt more like a stage than a home¡ªevery detail curated to perfection, every corner dripping with money and taste. But tonight, despite the soft glow of scented candles flickering from their crystal holders, the atmosphere was thick and unsettled. The perfume of the two sisters mingled in the room like unspoken tension¡ªBianca¡¯s sharp, citrusy scent cutting against Sarai¡¯s sweeter, floral trace, shing just enough to echo the unease between them.


    The long windows stretched wide, showing off the city skyline in all its glittering arrogance. Usually Bianca loved that view¡ªit reminded her of the empire she believed she owned a piece of. Tonight, though, the city lights felt like they wereughing at her, mocking the illusion of control she and her sister had held so tightly.


    Bianca moved restlessly across the Persian rug, her bare feet sinking into the plush weave. Her silk robe swished as she turned sharply on her heel, its fabric brushing against her legs like whispers she couldn¡¯t escape. The robe had always been part of her armor, the sleek bun pulling her glossy hair into ce the crown that framed her perfectlyposed face. But her mask had cracked. Shock clung to her features, her green eyes wide and unguarded in a way that made her look almost unfamiliar, even to herself.


    On the bed, Sarai sat frozen on the edge of the four-poster, her posture tense as though she might spring up at any second but couldn¡¯t quite decide where to run. The flush still warming her skin hinted at the excitement of just moments before, but it had already drained into something else¡ªconfusion, worry, the beginnings of fear. Her own eyes flickered back and forth, searching her sister¡¯s face for answers that Bianca didn¡¯t have. The silence between them stretched, filled only by the muffled hum of the city beyond the ss, heavy and using.


    Bianca stopped abruptly, whirling to face her younger sister with a mix of incredulity and usation. "Sarai, what do you mean you know about Rafael Vexley? You¡¯ve been sitting here scheming with me all this time, and you never once mentioned that Eliana is tangled up with him? Him, of all people¡ªthe mysterious billionaire who could crush us like ants under his heel!"


    Sarai blinked, her manicured nails digging deeper into the silk bedspread, the fabric bunching under her grip like a lifeline. She tilted her head, her glossy hair catching the light as it fell in loose waves¡ªshe¡¯d let it down earlier in a fit of triumphant glee, but now it framed her fierce beauty like a dark halo. "Bianca, calm down. Why are you looking at me like I¡¯ve grown a second head? Of course I know about Rafael. I mean, how could I not? I¡¯m the one who shoved Eliana right into his path. It was my brilliant idea? Or did you forget our little chats about keeping that pathetic girl upied? I did just that."


    Bianca¡¯s diamond rings shed as she threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice rising in a dramatic tone that echoed off the high ceilings. "Your brilliant idea? Sarai, darling, spill it all. How on earth did that nobody from the wrong side of the tracks end up knowing Rafael Vexley? The man is a fortress¡ªuntouchable, mysterious, with connections that span empires. And you just... what? Hand-delivered her to him like a gift-wrapped sacrifice?"


    Sarai leaned back against the mound of embroidered pillows, a sly smile creeping across her full lips despite the tension. She crossed her legs, her designer lounge pants rustling softly, and let out a light, almost nostalgicugh that belied the malice beneath. "Oh, sister, it was perfect. You know how desperate Eliana was after the old man kicked the bucket¡ªpoor, unemployed, moping around like a lost puppy. I yed the concerned best friend, of course. ¡¯Eliana, honey, I heard about this job opportunity,¡¯ I told her, all wide-eyed and innocent. ¡¯It¡¯s caregiving for this rich guy who¡¯s blind and crippled. Pays well, and it¡¯s not too demanding.¡¯ Ha! Not too demanding? Rafael Vexley is a monster wrapped in silk sheets. Blind, yes. Crippled, absolutely¡ªstuck in that wheelchair like a king on a broken throne. But tyrant doesn¡¯t even begin to cover it. He¡¯s miserable, Bianca, utterly wretched, and he makes sure everyone around him drowns in that misery too. Snapping orders, belittling his staff, isting himself in that massive estate like some gothic viin from those romance novels Eliana loves so much. I figured sending her there would kill two birds with one stone: get her out of my way so I could finally sink my ws into Jason without her pathetic puppy eyes watching, and let her suffer at Rafael¡¯s hands. Imagine it¡ªday after day of his cruelty grinding her down, breaking that hopeful little spirit of hers until she was nothing but dust."


    Bianca shook her head slowly, her sharp features tightening as she sank onto the chaise lounge opposite the bed, the leather creaking under her weight. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper,ced with a mix of awe and warning, "Oh, Sarai, you naive little schemer. With the situation staring us in the face now, it doesn¡¯t seem like Rafael Vexley is the tyrant you painted him to be¡ªat least not to Eliana. Quite the opposite, in fact. Think about it: Mel just dropped the bomb that Austin Miller, the mafia kingpin himself, is mobilizing every underground boss in the country to hunt for her. And who do you think pulled those strings? It has to be Rafael. He¡¯s the one with the pull to get a man like Austin involved. Blind and crippled or not, Rafael¡¯s been protecting her, cherishing her maybe. This isn¡¯t misery; this is devotion. And you know as well as I do that Rafael Vexley is the most well-connected man this side of the ocean. If a powerhouse like him sets his sights on finding someone, he will. No shadows deep enough, no schemes clever enough to hide from him. We¡¯ve poked a ho¡¯s nest, sister, and the swarm ising."


    Sarai¡¯s eyes clouded with a storm of emotions¡ªconfusion giving way to frustration, her flushed cheeks paling as the gravity sank in. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her voice trembling with a vulnerability she rarely showed, even to her sister. "Bianca... what do we do now? I mean, this was supposed to be it¡ªthe final nail in Eliana¡¯s coffin. Jason would see her scarred, repulsive, ande running to me. But Austin Miller? Rafael pulling mafia strings? We¡¯re in over our heads. Do we call it off? Tell Mel to dump her somewhere and run?"


    Bianca¡¯s lips curved into a calcted smile, her shock morphing into the cunning resolve that had always defined her. She rose gracefully, gliding over to the bed and perching beside Sarai, her hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her sister¡¯s ear in a gesture that was equal parts affectionate andmanding. "Oh, my ruthless little darling, we¡¯re not backing down¡ªwe¡¯re pivoting. From now on, you y the victim, Sarai. The heartbroken, noble best friend who¡¯s been torn between love and loyalty. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to swoop in and secure Eliana from those ¡¯kidnappers.¡¯ Mel and I will stage the whole thing perfectly¡ªa heroic rescue that¡¯ll make you look like a saint."


    Sarai¡¯s eyes shed with fury, her body recoiling as if pped. She shot up from the bed, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet, pacing like a caged panther. Her voice rose in a childish whine edged with venom, the dramatic ir making the scene almost theatrical. "Me? y the victim? Why on earth would I want to do that? Bianca, have you lost your mind? I hate her! That simpering, over-trusting fool with her begging eyes and that infuriating hopeful smile. She¡¯s the one who should be suffering, not me pretending to save her. I¡¯d rather watch her rot in that car¡¯s truck than lift a finger to help!"


    Bianca chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that filled the room like velvet thunder, her green sparkling with mischief and ambition. She leaned back against the headboard, crossing her arms over her chest, her diamond rings catching the light like tiny stars. "Oh,e on, Sarai, don¡¯t be so shortsighted. This is our golden ticket. I¡¯ve always been looking for a way to get close to Rafael Vexley¡ªclose enough to weave my way into his world, his empire, his bed if possible. And you¡¯re going to be my key. Think about it: you pull off this rescue, and when we kick Eliana out of his house for good¡ªexpose her as the naive interloper she is and permanently silence her, you¡¯ll gain everything. Jason will be yours withoutpetition, and I¡¯ll have Rafael wrapped around my finger. We¡¯ll both win, sister. Two peas in a pod, remember? Inseparable, unbreakable."


    Sarai stopped pacing, her breathing in short, heated bursts, her sharp features twisting in reluctant curiosity. She turned back to Bianca, her voice a sulky murmur that carried the weight of their shared history¡ªthe whispers in the dark, the schemes that had bound them tighter than blood. "Fine, you¡¯ve got my attention. What exactly do you want me to do? How do I pull off this ridiculous charade without vomiting all over my designer shoes?"


    Bianca¡¯s smile widened, predatory and elegant, as she gestured for Sarai to sit back down. The city lights twinkled outside like distant fireworks, underscoring the drama unfolding within. "It¡¯s simple, darling. You go in there¡ªMel will set it up so it looks like you¡¯re bursting in on the kidnappers. You¡¯ll ¡¯save¡¯ Eliana, all tears and heroism. And when she¡¯s trembling in your arms, grateful and confused, you spin the tale. Tell her you overheard Jason plotting the whole thing. Say he was desperate to get her back, to force her away from Rafael and into his arms again. But you, Sarai Monroe, couldn¡¯t stand by and watch. Even though you¡¯re both in love with the same man¡ªeven though you know she discovered your affair with Jason behind her back¡ªyou still see her as your childhood friend. The girl who shared secrets and dreams with you under the stars. Tell her you may never earn her forgiveness for what you did with Jason, but you won¡¯t let anyone hurt her the way you hurt her yourself. Make it emotional, Sarai¡ªlet those pretty eyes of yours well up with fake tears. Pour on the remorse, the loyalty. It¡¯ll crack her wide open, and when Rafael hears about your ¡¯bravery,¡¯ doors will open. For both of us."


    Sarai huffed childishly, flopping back onto the bed with exaggerated drama, her arms crossing over her chest like a spoiled child denied a toy. The silk sheets whispered in protest, and she shot Bianca a re that could wilt flowers, her voice dripping with sarcasm and defiance. "Over my dead body, Bianca. I won¡¯t do it. Spout that nonsense to her? Pretend I¡¯m some redeemed angel when all I want is to see her crumble? No way. Find another pawn for your game¡ªI¡¯m out."


    The tension hung in the air like a storm about to break, the sisters locked in a silent standoff, their unbreakable bond tested by the fires of ambition and fear.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 61: Everything

    <h4>Chapter 61: Everything</h4>


    Bianca gazed at Sarai with a loving smile, her sharp green eyes softening in that rare, sisterly way that always melted the ice between them. The fight between them still clung to the air, heavy and stubborn, but she let out a quiet breath and unfolded her arms. Pushing herself up from the headboard, the silk of her robe whispered against the sheets as she crossed over to her sister. Saraiy there in her usual dramatic sulk, but Bianca didn¡¯t bother with words. She simply bent down and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close until Sarai¡¯s stiff shoulders finally eased. The familiar scent of vani clung to Bianca¡¯s skin, and in that simple hug, Sarai was reminded¡ªno matter how much they shed¡ªthey were still bound together in a way nothing could undo.


    "Oh, Sarai, my fierce little firecracker," Bianca murmured into her sister¡¯s glossy hair, her voice a soothing lubyced with persuasion. "You need to think this through carefully. This isn¡¯t just some petty revenge plot anymore; it¡¯s a win-win situation for both of us. Imagine it, darling¡ªpicture me getting my hands on the Vexley fortune through Rafael. With that kind of power at our fingertips, you¡¯d be unstoppable. Anything you want? Yours. Designer empires, private jets, the world bowing at your feet. And think about the connections! Through Rafael¡¯s influence, we¡¯d have ties to men like Austin Miller¡ªthe mafia kingpin himself. Doors that were once mmed shut would swing wide open. We could rule this city, sister. Andter on... well, once we¡¯ve squeezed every drop from that blind cripple, we could even get rid of him. Quietly, of course. A tragic ident, perhaps. Then the entire Vexley empire would be ours to seize. No more scraping by on Daddy¡¯s scraps¡ªwe¡¯d be queens."


    Sarai pulled back slightly from the embrace, her sharp features smoothing into a more cool-headed expression as she processed her sister¡¯s words. The storm in her eyes had calmed to a calcting glint, and she tilted her head, her voice steady butced with genuine concern. "Okay, Bianca, you¡¯ve painted a pretty picture, I¡¯ll give you that. But what if Eliana decides to spill everything to Rafael? What if she tells him Jason was the one who orchestrated the kidnapping, and then they drag me in as a witness? I don¡¯t want Jason getting into trouble because of this. He¡¯s mine¡ªour future together can¡¯t be ruined over her bbering mouth."


    Bianca chuckled softly, a low, throaty sound that echoed with amusement and cunning, her hands still resting on Sarai¡¯s shoulders as if anchoring her to the n. "Oh, my protective little schemer, that¡¯s where your charmes in. You¡¯ll beg Eliana not to mention Jason¡¯s involvement to Rafael. y on her emotions, darling¡ªtug at those heartstrings she¡¯s always wearing on her sleeve. Tell her Jason was just hurt and desperate, blinded by his love for her. Make it sound tragic, like he was a lost puppy acting out of pain, but you¡¯re positive he didn¡¯t mean any real harm. Beg her to remember the three of you¡ªyou, her, and Jason¡ªas best friends since childhood. Remind her of those endless summer nights giggling under the stars, sharing secrets about boys and dreams, the scraped knees from yground adventures. Paint it so vividly she¡¯ll feel guilty for even thinking of betraying that bond."


    Sarai¡¯s brow furrowed deeper, her lips pursing in skepticism as she crossed her arms, mirroring Bianca¡¯s earlier pose. "And what if that doesn¡¯t work? Eliana¡¯s naive, but she¡¯s notpletely stupid. Rafael¡¯s no fool either¡ªhe¡¯s got that whole dark, scary aura. What if she pushes back?"


    Bianca¡¯s smile turned predatory, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of the game as she squeezed Sarai¡¯s shoulders reassuringly. "Then hammer it home, Sarai. Tell her straight out that Rafael would kill Jason¡ªliterally¡ªif he knew Jason was involved in the kidnapping. Emphasize the danger, the blood on her hands if she lets that slip. Rafael¡¯s not just some rich invalid; he¡¯s a force of nature with mafia ties that could erase Jason in a heartbeat. Make her see that by keeping quiet, she¡¯s protecting not just Jason, but the remnants of your shared past. You¡¯ll have her eating out of your hand, trust me. She¡¯s always been a sucker for loyalty and nostalgia."


    Sarai let out a long, dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping as she flopped back against the pillows, her glossy hair fanning out like a dark halo. The room seemed to hold its breath, the city lights outside flickering like hesitant stars witnessing their pact. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with visions of power, revenge, and that intoxicating future Bianca had dangled before her. Finally, she turned her head, meeting her sister¡¯s gaze with a reluctant nod. "Fine. I¡¯ll do it. But if this blows up in our faces, you¡¯re the one exining it to Daddy."


    Bianca¡¯s face lit up with genuine delight, herughter bubbling up like champagne as she pped her hands together, the sound sharp and triumphant in the quiet room. "That¡¯s my girl! I knew you¡¯d see the brilliance in it. We¡¯re going to crush this, Sarai¡ªtwo peas in a pod, remember? Inseparable and unbreakable." She leaned down, nting a quick, affectionate kiss on Sarai¡¯s forehead before straightening up with purposeful energy.


    Without wasting another second, Bianca snatched her phone from the bedside table, her diamond rings glinting under themp¡¯s glow as she dialed Mel¡¯s number. The line connected almost immediately, and she put it on speaker, her voice shifting to thatmanding tone she reserved for underlings. "Mel, it¡¯s Bianca. Listen up¡ªI¡¯ve got a new n, and it¡¯s going to be wless."


    On the other end, Mel¡¯s gruff voice crackled through,ced with impatience and the faint echo of wind, suggesting he was still at the remote hideout. "Bianca? About damn time. What¡¯s the y? This girl¡¯s starting to stir in the trunk, and we can¡¯t hang around forever."


    Bianca paced slowly as she spoke, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor, her words precise andced with authority. "Sarai and I areing to the kidnapping site right now. You and your partner need to pretend that Sarai called the cops on you¡ªmake it look like she tipped them off anonymously and scared you off. Then, she¡¯ll swoop in like the hero and ¡¯save¡¯ Eliana. Rough up the ce a bit if you have to¡ªscare Eliana more or something to sell the chaos. But make it convincing."


    Mel grunted, a mix of skepticism and resignation in his tone. "Heroics, huh? That¡¯s a twist. Alright, but you better make it quick. Cops or no cops, this spot¡¯s too exposed. What¡¯s the endgame here?"


    Bianca nced at Sarai, who was now sitting up with a smirk, and continued with steely resolve. "The endgame is making sure this n works perfectly. We need Eliana to believe everythingpletely¡ªno doubts, no questions. She has to see Sarai as her savior, the loyal friend who risked it all. If she buys it, we¡¯re golden. You got that?"


    There was a pause, then Mel¡¯s voice came back, gruff butpliant. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. We¡¯ll stage it like a damn movie. Just hurry up and get here¡ªwe can¡¯t wait at this hideout for too long. Every minute¡¯s a risk."


    Bianca¡¯s lips curved into a satisfied smile as she ended the call with a crisp, "We¡¯re on our way." She tossed the phone onto the bed and turned to Sarai, her energy infectious. "See? Piece of cake. Now, let¡¯s get moving before Mel gets twitchy."


    Sarai rolled her eyes but couldn¡¯t hide the spark of excitement igniting in her eyes, a mirror of her sister¡¯s. She swung her legs off the bed, standing with a theatrical stretch that made her silk nightgown ride up slightly. "ck clothes, right? Can¡¯t be a shadowy hero in pink pajamas."


    Biancaughed, a rich, velvety sound that filled the room with warmth, destroying the earlier tension like sunlight. "Exactly, darling. Stealth and style¡ªour motto." She glided to her walk-in closet, the doors swinging open to reveal rows of designer garments bathed in soft LED lights. With practiced efficiency, she pulled out two sleek ck outfits: for herself, a fitted turtleneck and slim pants that hugged her curves like a second skin, and for Sarai, a simr ensemble with a hooded jacket for that extra dramatic ir.


    Sarai snatched hers with a grin, shimmying out of her nightgown and into the clothes in one fluid motion, the fabric cool and empowering against her skin. "You know, this almost feels like one of those spy movies we used to binge-watch as kids. Except we¡¯re the viins turning heroes... sort of."


    "Anti-heroes, maybe," Bianca quipped, slipping into her own outfit and zipping up with a flourish. She ran ab through her ck hair, tying it into a sleek ponytail that screamed ¡¯business.¡¯ "Grab your handbag¡ªmine¡¯s got the essentials: pepper spray, just in case Mel¡¯s boys get too method in their acting."


    Sarai scooped up her designer clutch from the dresser, stuffing in her phone and apact mirror for a quick touch-up. "Pepper spray? Now you¡¯re thinking ahead. Alright, let¡¯s do this before I change my mind and decide to let Eliana rot after all."


    The sisters shared a conspiratorial nce, theirughter mingling as they hurried out of the bedroom, the apartment¡¯s modern decor¡ªss tables, abstract art, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city¡ªfading behind them. They slipped on matching ck sneakers for silence and speed, the soft soles muffling their steps as they descended the private elevator to the underground garage.


    Bianca¡¯s glossy ck sports car waited like a panther in the shadows, its engine purring to life with a low growl as she hit the remote. They slid inside, the leather seats embracing them in luxury, and Sarai buckled up with a sigh that was equal parts nerves and thrill. "You really think this will work? Eliana¡¯s going to be a mess¡ªscarred, terrified. What if she sees right through me?"


    Bianca revved the engine, peeling out of the garage with expert precision, the tires squealing faintly on the polished concrete. The city streets blurred past in a neon haze as she merged onto the highway, her voice steady and reassuring over the hum of the car. "She won¡¯t, Sarai. You¡¯re a master actress. Remember that school y where you yed the tragic heroine and had the whole audience in tears? This is just like that¡ªexcept the stakes are real, and the reward is everything we¡¯ve ever wanted."


    Sarai leaned back, watching the lights streak by, her heart pounding with a mix of dread and anticipation. "Yeah... everything." The night air rushed in through the cracked window, carrying the scent of rain and urban promise, as they sped toward the kidnapping site, their scheme unfolding like a dark romance scripted just for them.

 Chapter 62: The Performance

    <h4>Chapter 62: The Performance</h4>


    The sleek ck sports car sliced through the night like a shadow, its engine humming with restrained power as Bianca navigated the winding backroads leading to the abandoned warehouse on the city¡¯s outskirts. Fifteen minutes had felt like an eternity, each mile amplifying Sarai¡¯s nervous fidgeting in the passenger seat. Her fingers drummed against the leather armrest, her sharp green eyes darting to the dashboard clock every few seconds.


    "Rx, darling," Bianca murmured, her voice smooth as silk, one hand steady on the wheel while the other adjusted the rearview mirror. "We¡¯re almost there. Remember, you¡¯re the hero tonight. Channel that inner diva."


    Sarai huffed, crossing her arms over her ck hooded jacket. "Easy for you to say. You¡¯re not the one who has to fake-cry in front of a girl you hate and who¡¯s probably half-traumatized already."


    Bianca¡¯s lips curved into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming under the passing streetlights. "Oh, but you will. And you¡¯ll be brilliant. Just stick to the script."


    As they pulled up to the dimly lit site¡ªan overgrown lot nked by rusted warehouses, the air heavy with the smell of damp earth and distant rain¡ªthe headlights caught the outline of the ck SUV parked haphazardly near a chain-link fence. Mel and his burly partner, a nameless thug with a scar across his cheek, leaned against the vehicle, their faces illuminated by the glow of cigarettes. The SUV¡¯s tinted windows hid Eliana from Sarai and Bianca¡¯s view, but Sarai knew she was in there, bound and gagged in the back watching, her world reduced to loneliness and fear.


    Bianca killed the engine and nodded to Sarai. "Showtime. I¡¯ll hang back for a minute¡ªmake your entrance count."


    Sarai swallowed hard, stepping out into the cool night air. Her heels crunched on the gravel as she approached, her posture shifting from anxious to authoritative. Mel straightened up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out with a boot. His partner eyed her warily, a hand instinctively reaching for the bulge in his jacket.


    "What¡¯s the holdup?" Mel growled, his voice rough like gravel under tires. "We been waitin¡¯ here like sittin¡¯ ducks. That girl¡¯s startin¡¯ to make noise back there."


    Sarai raised a hand, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. "Change of ns, boys. I called the cops¡ªanonymous tip. They¡¯re on their way. You two need to scram before they show up and haul your asses in."


    Mel¡¯s eyes flew wide, disbelief crashing over him like cold water. That wasn¡¯t what they had agreed on with Bianca over the phone. His stomach twisted as he shot a panicked look at his partner.


    The man cursed under his breath, frustration boiling over as he started pacing, his boot kicking a loose rock hard enough to tter across the ground. He ran a hand through his hair and snapped, voice low but sharp, "What the hell, woman? You tipped ¡¯em off? We had a deal!"


    Sarai didn¡¯t flinch. Her gaze locked onto him, a dangerous glimmer in her eyes. She leaned in close, her tone a deadly whisper only he could hear.


    "Keep your voice down and just y along. Do you hear me? No matter what happens, you¡¯ll be out of here before the cops even set foot on this ground."


    The man¡¯s jaw tightened, nostrils ring. He looked like he wanted to argue, to spit venom right back at her. But the weight of her stare¡ªand the cold confidence dripping from her words¡ªpinned him in ce. "You better be right about this,dy. If this blows up, it¡¯s on your head."


    Sarai smirked, a sh of arrogance cutting through the tension. "Rx. This will be clean. You just... y your part."


    Inside the SUV, Eliana stirred against her restraints, her eyes peering through the tinted rear window. The zip ties bit into her wrists, and the tape over her mouth muffled her breaths into ragged gasps. Confusion washed over her as she caught glimpses of the unfolding drama¡ªSarai, her best friend, standing tall and defiant, arguing with the kidnappers. Why was Sarai here? How had she found her? Eliana¡¯s heart raced, a mix of fear and bewilderment surging through her veins.


    Sarai stepped closer, her voice rising dramatically. "You morons really thought you could get away with kidnapping my best friend? Big mistake. Any second now, you¡¯re going to hear those sirens screaming¡ªand when they do, you¡¯ll be wishing you never crossed me!"


    Mel¡¯s partner, catching on, grabbed a nearby crate and hurled it against the warehouse wall with a resounding crash, splintering wood and scattering debris to sell the chaos. Dust billowed into the air, and he shouted, "Shit, man, she¡¯s serious! I hear somethin¡¯¡ªcops? Let¡¯s bounce!"


    Mel nodded frantically, his face twisted in mock terror. "Fine, you win, princess. But this ain¡¯t over!" He lunged toward the SUV¡¯s door as if to check on Eliana onest time, but Sarai blocked him, her stance fierce.


    At that moment, Bianca emerged from the shadows, her fitted ck outfit blending seamlessly with the night. She strode forward with predatory grace, her presencemanding the scene like a queen entering her court. "You heard her," Bianca snarled, her voiceced with venom. "The cops are almost here. One more move, and you¡¯re done. Get in that rust bucket and drive¡ªnow!"


    Mel and his partner froze for a split second, their eyes darting between the sisters, then scrambled toward the SUV¡¯s front seats. As Bianca continued her tirade¡ª"You think you can mess with my family? I¡¯ll have you buried in charges so deep you¡¯ll never see daylight!"¡ªSarai seized the opportunity. She yanked open the rear door, her heart thumping from excitement and thrills of the game as she peered into the back seats.


    Eliana blinked up at her, tears streaking her warm brown skin, her curly hair matted and disheveled. The sight tugged at something unexpected in Sarai¡ªa flicker of genuine pity, quickly buried underyers of calction.


    "Eliana! Oh God, are you okay?" Sarai whispered urgently, her hands trembling as she reached in and pulled Eliana out of the car quickly. Once on the ground, She gently peeled the tape from Eliana¡¯s mouth, wincing at the red mark it left on her lips. Eliana gasped for air, her voice hoarse.


    "S-Sarai? What... how...?"


    "Shh, hold still," Sarai soothed, pulling a small pocket knife from her jacket¡ªBianca¡¯s idea for authenticity. With careful slices, she cut through the zip ties binding Eliana¡¯s wrists, the stic snapping free. Eliana rubbed her raw skin, her expressive eyes wide with shock.


    Behind them, Mel mmed the SUV door and revved the engine, tires spinning gravel as they peeled out in a cloud of dust. "You¡¯ll all pay for this!" he yelled through the window, his voice fading into the night. The vehicle fishtailed down the road, headlights piercing the darkness before vanishing around a bend.


    Eliana stumbled to her feet, her slender frame unsteady on wobbly legs. She clung to Sarai for support, her sweater torn at the hem, dirt smudged across her soft heart face. "Sarai... Bianca? You... you saved me? But why are you here? How did you know?"


    Bianca joined them, her arm slipping around Eliana¡¯s shoulders in a show of sisterly concern. "We pieced it together, sweetie. Sarai found out about it and called me. We couldn¡¯t let those monsters take you."


    But Eliana¡¯s mind whirled in confusion, fragments of the kidnapping shing back¡ªThis was all Jason¡¯s doing. The words those men had let slip¡ªthey were waiting for Jason. "How did you know... It doesn¡¯t make sense. Did Jason tell you? Jason... he was involved. He¡ª"


    Sarai¡¯s eyes widened in feigned horror, and she dropped to her knees right there on the gravel, her ck pants scraping against the rough ground. Tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks in glistening trails¡ªpartly acted, partly fueled by the adrenaline of the moment. She clutched Eliana¡¯s hands, her voice breaking with emotion. "Eliana, please, listen to me. I beg you¡ªdon¡¯t tell anyone about Jason. He was... he was just hurt, desperate. Blinded by his love for you. It was a mistake, a tragic one. He didn¡¯t mean real harm; he was like a lost puppy acting out in pain."


    Eliana stared down at her, torn between gratitude and disbelief. "Sarai, get up. What pain are you talking about? He was the one who cheated on me with you! So why is he in pain? Did you know he was going to do this? He kidnapped me! How can you defend him?"


    Sarai¡¯s sobs grew louder, her grip tightening. "Remember us, Eli? The three of us¡ªbest friends since we were kids. Those endless summer nights under the stars, giggling about boys, girls and dreams. The scraped knees from yground adventures, sharing secrets no one else knew. We were unbreakable! If you tell anyone especially your boss Rafael, he¡¯ll kill Jason¡ªliterally. Rafael¡¯s not just some guy; he¡¯s got mafia ties that could erase Jason in a heartbeat. Please, for our old friendship, for those memories... keep it quiet. You¡¯re protecting him, protecting us. I can¡¯t lose you both."


    Bianca watched with a subtle nod of approval, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "She¡¯s right, Eliana. This could end in blood. Please think about it."


    Eliana¡¯s heart ached, her emotional resilience cracking under the weight of Sarai¡¯s pleas. The loyalty she¡¯d always cherished warred with her sense of justice. "I... I don¡¯t know. This is all so confusing. Why would Jason¡ª"


    Before she could finish, the night erupted with the roar of engines. Five sleek, luxury cars¡ªgleaming Audis and Mercedes, their ck paintjobs reflecting the moonlight¡ªskidded into the lot in a synchronized assault, headlights blinding as they formed a semi-circle around the women. Dust swirled like a storm, and Sarai¡¯s breath caught in her throat. How the hell had Rafael¡¯s people found them so fast? She thanked her lucky stars inwardly that Mel had bolted just minutes ago; otherwise, this would have been a bloodbath.


    Doors flew open, and a dozen men in dark suits poured out, their postures tense and professional, hands hovering near concealed weapons. They fanned out, securing the perimeter with military precision. Last to emerge was Rafael Vexley himself, his wheelchair maneuvered down a ramp from the lead car by his loyal secretary, James. Rafael¡¯s face was a mask of controlled fury, his dark eyes scanning the scene until they locked on Eliana.


    "Rafael!" Eliana cried out, her voice cracking with shock and relief. She pulled away from Sarai, her legs finding strength as she stumbled forward.


    Rafael rolled toward her with urgency, James pushing the chair over the uneven gravel. "Eliana!" he called, his voice raw with panic, echoing across the lot. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"


    Eliana closed the distance, her hands reaching out. "I¡¯m fine, Rafael. Really. Sarai and Bianca¡ªthey saved me. They scared off the kidnappers just in time."


    Before she could borate, Rafael extended his hand, grasping hers firmly. With a gentle but insistent pull, he drew her onto hisp, his arms encircling her in a fierce embrace. The world seemed to still as he buried his face in her curly hair, his body trembling slightly against hers. "Thank God," he whispered, his voice muffled but thick with fear and relief. "I thought I¡¯d lost you."


    Sarai and Bianca exchanged stunned nces, their carefully constructed facades cracking for a moment. Sarai¡¯s green eyes widened in disbelief¡ªRafael Vexley, the infamous invalid with a dark empire, showing such vulnerability? Bianca¡¯s lips parted in surprise, a flicker of envy crossing her features before she masked it with a polite smile.


    The men around them shifted ufortably, averting their eyes from the intimate scene, but no one dared interrupt. In that moment, amid the drama and betrayal simmering beneath the surface, Eliana melted into Rafael¡¯s hold, her own tears falling freely as the night¡¯s horrors began to fade.

 Chapter 63: Contradictions

    <h4>Chapter 63: Contradictions</h4>


    Sarai and Bianca stood frozen in the dusty clearing outside the abandoned warehouse, unable to tear their eyes from the intimate scene unfolding before them. The moon loomed high and silver, spilling its glow over the sleek ck cars that ringed the lot like watchful predators. The night still carried the low ghost of engines that had just gone quiet, as if the ground itself remembered their growl.


    And in the middle of it all was Rafael Vexley¡ªthe man whispered about in boardrooms and headlines, the untouchable recluse with too much power and too many secrets. Only now he didn¡¯t look untouchable. He looked human.


    His wheelchair rested motionless on the gravel, James hovering close at hand, but Rafael¡¯s attention was anchored on the woman in his arms. Eliana. He clutched her like she was thest thing keeping him from breaking apart. His face was buried in the curve of her neck, dark waves of hair tangling with her curls as if even their strands were unwilling to let go. His arms, strong beneath the sharp cut of his suit, wrapped around her with a kind of hunger that had nothing to do with wealth or control¡ªjust need.


    Sarai had always painted him in her mind as a ruthless tyrant made of steel and shadows. But here, in the silver wash of moonlight, she saw something she hadn¡¯t thought possible. Vulnerability.


    It hit her harder than fear of him ever had.


    "Eliana," Rafael murmured against her skin, his voice a low, trembling rumble that carried through the still night. "Tell me again¡ªare you truly okay? Did theyy a hand on you? Any bruises, any pain at all?"


    Eliana, perched on hisp, felt the warmth of his breath tickle her ear, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions¡ªrelief, confusion, and something deeper she couldn¡¯t yet name. She ced a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath the fabric. "I¡¯m fine, Rafael. Really, I am. No one hurt me. It was Sarai and her sister Bianca¡ªthey showed up just in time. They scared the kidnappers off. If it weren¡¯t for them..." Her voice trailed off,ced with genuine gratitude mixed with the lingering haze of betrayal.


    From the shadows, Sarai¡¯s green eyes narrowed into slits, her glossy ck hair catching the moonlight as she clenched her fists at her sides. Her light brown skin flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with the cool night air. <i>This wasn¡¯t the n, </i>she seethed inwardly, her mind shing back to those calcted moments months ago. She¡¯d been the one to dangle the caregiver job in front of Eliana like a carrot, whispering about the "easy money" while secretly hoping Rafael¡¯s infamous reputation as a miserable, unfeeling tyrant would break her childhood friend. Sarai had pictured Eliana crumbling under endless demands, isted in that sprawling mansion, suffering in silence just like she always did. But this? Watching Eliana melt into Rafael¡¯s embrace, seeing the way his clouded grey eyes softened as he held her? It ignited a fury in Sarai¡¯s chest that burned hotter than any jealousy she¡¯d felt before. <i>How does she do it? </i>Sarai thought, her full lips twisting into a silent snarl. <i>Eliana, with her goody-two-shoes behavior and that innocent, hopeful smile, always getting what she wants! She tamed the untamable. Really?! But I¡¯ll help Bianca rip him away from her. If only to shove Eliana back into the poverty she belongs in.</i>


    Bianca, standing beside her sister like a mirror image of poised elegance¡ªher own sharp features framed by sleek hair and designer attire¡ªcrossed her arms, a subtle smirk ying on her lips. She leaned in slightly, whispering so only Sarai could hear. "Look at her, ying the damsel. But we¡¯ll turn this around. Remember what I taught you¡ªpatience, darling. We¡¯ll strike when they¡¯re weakest."


    After what felt like an eternity, Rafael finally loosened his embrace, his hands lingering on Eliana¡¯s waist as if afraid she¡¯d vanish into the night. But he didn¡¯t let her stand; instead, he shifted her slightly on hisp, pulling her closer to his chest. The gravel crunched faintly under the wheelchair¡¯s wheels as he adjusted, his body a solid anchor against her exhaustion. Somehow, in that chaotic moment, he needed her near¡ªclose enough to shield from the world¡¯s cruelties, close enough to promise no one would ever touch her again.


    "Eliana," he said softly, his voice steadying now, though still edged with concern. "Did you see who took you? Any faces, voices? Where were they heading? Who sent them¡ªwhat did they want?"


    Eliana¡¯s mind raced, shing to Jason¡¯s familiar features, the betrayal. But then her gaze flicked to Sarai, who stood there with those pleading green eyes, her expression a silent beg for mercy. Eliana¡¯s heart twisted¡ªchildhood memories shing with justice like thunder in her chest. She swallowed hard, her lips parting hesitantly. "I... I don¡¯t know anything, Rafael. It all happened so fast. They blindfolded me almost immediately."


    Rafael nodded, his chiseled jaw tightening as he stroked her arm reassuringly. "Don¡¯t worry, dear. I¡¯ll find out soon enough. No one touches what¡¯s mine and walks away."


    Those words sent a chill through Eliana, her emotional resilience fraying at the edges. Against her better judgment, a flicker of worry sparked for Jason¡ªher ex-fianc¨¦, the man who¡¯d shattered her trust but once shared her dreams. What if Rafael really does erase him? she thought, her honey eyes clouding with fear. But she pushed it down, focusing on the man holding her.


    Rafael¡¯s "clouded" eyes scanned the lot subtly, noticing the two women standing a couple of feet away. He pretended not to see them, of course¡ªhis blindness a carefully guarded facade. He¡¯d never met them personally, but the name Sarai rang like a warning bell. James had briefed him long before Eliana entered his world: this was the "best friend" who¡¯d slept with Eliana¡¯s fianc¨¦, a snake in sheep¡¯s clothing. Rafael didn¡¯t know which of the two was Sarai, but hatred simmered in his veins regardless. Even if Eliana credited them with her rescue, he sensed the rot beneath their elegant exteriors.


    Eliana, meanwhile, felt a flush creep up her warm skin, her heart pounding erratically. Why wouldn¡¯t he let her stand? And why did she like it¡ªthe security of hisp, the way his arms encircled her like a fortress? Her mind whirled with contradictions: this was the man who¡¯d locked her in his mansion, the one she¡¯d fled into the night from, only to end up kidnapped. The one who¡¯d whisked her father away from the hospital without a word. Yet here she sat, making no move to leave, letting him hold her close to his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was maddening, exhrating, and utterly confusing.


    With a feigned tilt of his head, as if listening to the wind, Rafael spoke up. "Where are these brave women who saved your life, Eliana? I need to thank them properly."


    Bianca and Sarai exchanged a quick nce, their booted steps crunching on the gravel as they approached. Sarai smoothed her sleek bun, stering on a sweet smile that didn¡¯t reach her eyes, while Bianca adopted a gracious poise, her sharp green eyes gleaming with calction.


    "We¡¯re right here," Sarai said smoothly, her voice dripping with false warmth. "I¡¯m Sarai Monroe, Eliana¡¯s best friend since forever. And this is my sister, Bianca."


    Rafael "looked" in their direction, his grey eyes unfocused for show. "Sarai... Bianca. Thank you¡ªfrom the bottom of my heart¡ªfor saving Eliana. I don¡¯t know what I would have done if..." His voice caught, genuine emotion slipping through his sarcasmced armor.


    Sarai waved a manicured hand dismissively, her fierce beauty masking the venom within. "Oh, it was nothing, Mr. Vexley. I was just trying to save my best friend. We¡¯d do anything for Eliana."


    Bianca nodded, her glossy hair catching the light. "Absolutely. Eliana¡¯s like a little sister to me. We couldn¡¯t stand by and let those monsters take her."


    Rafael¡¯s lips curved into a polite smile, though internally he filed away their words like evidence. "Your bravery deserves more than words. I¡¯d like to thank you personally¡ªover dinner. James?" He gestured vaguely, and his secretary stepped forward, producing two sleek business cards from his pocket.


    "Here you are,dies," James said evenly, handing them over. "Mr. Vexley can be reached at this number to arrange."


    As the exchange happened, Eliana¡¯s mind spun. Why had Sarai, who professed such love, betrayed her so cruelly¡ªsleeping with her fianc¨¦, shattering her world¡ªonly to swoop in as a savior now? The contradiction made her head throb, a dull ache building behind her eyes. But not tonight. She¡¯d been through hell: the kidnapping, the escape, the emotional whirlwind. All she wanted was to find her father, confirm he was safe, and then copse into sleep. Boldly, without overthinking, sheid her head on Rafael¡¯s chest, her body sagging with exhaustion as she rxed into him. His heartbeat lulled her, a rhythmicfort amid the chaos.


    Rafael felt her weight shift and wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively. Raising his voice to his men, hemanded, "Keep searching for those kidnappers. Scour every inch of this city if you have to. For now, I need to get Eliana home."


    Turning back to the sisters, he added, "We¡¯ll see you at dinner soon,dies. You must be rewarded for your bravery. Good night."


    Sarai and Bianca watched in awe as Rafael bid them farewell, his wheelchair turning with Eliana still nestled on hisp. James pushed them toward the lead car, the ramp extending smoothly. Rafael¡¯s hands never left her, guiding her gently inside as the door closed with a soft thud. The convoy roared to life, tires kicking up gravel as they sped away into the night.


    Inside the plush interior of the Mercedes, Eliana had finally sumbed to sleep. No longer on hisp, she sat beside him, her head lolling against the leather seat, her long curly hair spilling like a dark waterfall. Rafael watched her, his piercing eyes tracing the soft lines of her heart-shaped face, the rise and fall of her chest. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, but his focus remained on her¡ªpeaceful, vulnerable, his.


    As James drove steadily through the winding roads, Rafael leaned forward slightly. "James," he said in a low tone, not wanting to wake her. "Look into Sarai and Bianca Monroe. Dig deep¡ªI don¡¯t trust them one bit. I¡¯m not letting them back into Eliana¡¯s life to stir up trouble. Something¡¯s off here, and I want to know everything. Get to the bottom of it."


    James nodded in the rearview mirror, his expression resolute. "Consider it done, sir."


    The car hummed onward, carrying them toward the mansion where secrets waited to unravel, and love¡ªfragile and fierce¡ªbegan to take root.

 Chapter 64: Promises

    <h4>Chapter 64: Promises</h4>


    The sleek ck Mercedes rolled up the long, sweeping drive of Rafael Vexley¡¯s estate, its headlights cutting pale ribbons through the thinning night. Dawn was breaking, staining the sky with strokes of soft pinks and golds, but Rafael barely noticed. To him, the world outside the tinted ss was a blur, nothing more than background noise to the storm wing inside his chest.


    It was just past seven. Most of the city was still yawning into the day, but Rafael had been awake since three¡ªwired on fear, rage, and a grim determination that refused to loosen its grip. Every hour without Eliana had felt like a sharp knife pressed deeper into his ribs.


    The Mercedes purred to a final stop, engine humming onest time before quieting, like a beast settling into sleep. For a moment, Rafael sat there in the dim cabin, jaw clenched, his hands flexing against his knees as if he could squeeze the exhaustion out of his body. Pretending to be blind, to be paralyzed¡ªit had always been his shield, his weapon in the art of deception. Tonight, though, the mask had felt like chains, dragging on him with every passing hour.


    The rear door opened with a crisp, familiar click. James, ever precise, ever unshaken, stood waiting. His suit was immacte, his movements efficient, but even in his stillness there was an edge¡ªlike he¡¯d been running the same endless night beside Rafael without letting it show. He didn¡¯t have to say a word. The way his eyes flicked toward the house, then back to Rafael, was enough.


    And Rafael finally moved, maneuvering his wheelchair down the ramp with practiced ease, his athletic frame hidden beneath the facade of fragility. He "stared" nkly ahead, his eyes sharp but unfocused for show. James leaned in to gently lift the still-sleeping Eliana from the seat, her long curly hair falling like a silken veil over her warm brown skin, her pink lips parted in peaceful slumber.


    "Careful with her," Rafael murmured, his voice a low rumbleced with possessiveness.


    James nodded, cradling her slender form. "Of course, sir. I¡¯ll carry her inside."


    But before James could take a step, Rafael extended a hand, his chiseled jaw tightening. "No. Give her to me. I¡¯ll take her myself."


    James paused, surprise flickering in his eyes, but heplied without question. He carefully ced Eliana onto Rafael¡¯sp, her body curling instinctively against his chest. Rafael wrapped one strong arm around her waist, securing her as if she were a precious artifact, while his other hand gripped the wheelchair¡¯s control. With a soft whir, he rolled toward the grand entrance, the gravel crunching faintly under the wheels.


    The towering oak doors groaned open as they stepped inside, giving way to the vast foyer beyond. Light from the crystal chandeliers shined down in golden waves, catching on polished marble floors and gilded railings, making the space glow like the heart of some grand cathedral.


    The hush broke almost immediately. A line of maids, already alerted by the crunch of tires on gravel and the opening of gates, had gathered near the staircase. Their ck-and-white uniforms looked suddenly stark against the opulent backdrop, their nervous energy crackling in the air.


    Gasps slipped out before anyone could catch them. First, at the sight of Eliana¡ªher hair mussed, her skin pale, her presence itself a shock. Thest they¡¯d heard, she¡¯d dared to escape the mansion, many had assumed she would never step foot in this house again. Yet here she was, very real, fragile in a way none of them had ever seen.


    And then their eyes shifted to Rafael. To the way he carried her¡ªnot as the cold, untouchable man they knew, but as someone stripped raw. Eliana¡¯s head rested against his chest, her body cradled protectively in his arms, and the sight unraveled something in the staff. Whispers rippled through them like wind through tall grass, a mix of shock, envy, and spection.


    "Is that Miss Eliana? He found her!"


    "And she¡¯s... in hisp? Mr. Vexley never lets anyone that close."


    ra, the young maid with a kind face and a guilty conscience¡ªthe one who¡¯d slipped Eliana the key to freedom earlier that night¡ªstood at the back, her heart pounding. She wrung her apron in her hands, silently wondering if Eliana was truly okay. Why was she sound asleep in Rafael¡¯s arms? Had he hurt her? Punished her for running? ra¡¯s mind raced with regret and worry, but she dared not speak.


    Rafael ignored them all, his focus solely on the woman in his embrace. He rolled past the grand staircase, bypassing the corridor to Eliana¡¯s room and heading straight for his own master suite next to hers. The estate¡¯s marble floors echoed softly with the wheelchair¡¯s hum, the air filled with the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers.


    As they neared the door to his room, Eliana stirred. Her brown eyes fluttered open, disoriented at first, then widening in shock as she realized she was still nestled against Rafael¡¯s broad chest. The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing¡ªit all flooded back in a rush. She shifted, trying to push herself up, her hands pressing against his crisp suit.


    "Rafael? What¡ªlet me down. I can walk," she whispered, her voice husky from sleep, a flush creeping up her cheeks.


    He tightened his hold gently, his arm like an iron band around her. "Don¡¯t move, Eliana. We¡¯re almost there. Just stay still."


    She froze, something about the situation tugging at the edges of her memory. Being carried like this, the protective curl of his body around hers¡ªit felt so familiar, like a half-remembered dream. But why? She couldn¡¯t ce it, the thought slipping away like smoke. Reluctantly, she settled back, her heart racing as he pushed open the door to his room.


    The master suite was a testament to Rafael¡¯s hidden world: vast and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows draped in heavy velvet curtains, a king-sized bed dominating the center, its silk sheets rumpled from his sleepless night. Dark wood furniture gleamed under soft lighting, and the air carried his signature scent¡ªsandalwood and spice, intoxicating and masculine.


    Rafael rolled them inside, the door clicking shut behind them. Eliana nced around, confusion knitting her brows. "Why... why didn¡¯t you take me to my room? This is yours."


    He stopped at the bedside, his "clouded" eyes tilting toward her voice, though inwardly, he drank in every detail of her expressive face. "Because I want you here, in my room. With me."


    Her breath caught, a mix of surprise and something warmer stirring in her chest. "But¡ª"


    "Eliana," he interrupted softly, his voice a buttery caress, "I know you¡¯re exhausted. And still scared from... everything that¡¯s happened. The kidnapping, the escape. But you don¡¯t have to worry anymore. I¡¯m going to watch over you from now on. No one will touch you again."


    She searched his face, those piercing eyes that seemed to see nothing yet everything. Words failed her for a moment, the weight of his promise hanging in the air like a vow. But one question burned brighter than the rest. "My father... where is he? You took him from the hospital without telling me. Why?"


    Rafael¡¯s expression softened, a rare vulnerability cracking his cold facade. He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a feather-light touch, as if guiding himself by feel. "I didn¡¯t change his hospital to control you, Eliana. You thought that in your anger, and I understand why. But the truth is, I did it to protect him¡ªto make sure Mirabel couldn¡¯t find him and use him against you."


    Her eyes widened, honey-brown depths shimmering with sudden realization. She hadn¡¯t considered that, blinded by her fury at being confined. A pang of guilt twisted in her gut¡ªshe¡¯d used him so harshly, painted him as a monster. But she didn¡¯t apologize; after all, he¡¯d locked her in this gilded cage, preventing her from leaving, from living her life. Still, the revtion softened the edges of her resentment. "I... I didn¡¯t think about Mirabel. She would have gone after him, wouldn¡¯t she?"


    "Yes," he replied, his tone grave. "She¡¯s ruthless. I couldn¡¯t risk it."


    Eliana bit her lip, her mind whirling. "Can I see him? Please, Rafael. I need to know he¡¯s okay."


    He nodded, his hand lingering on her arm. "I promise, once you wake upter, I¡¯ll take you to the new hospital myself. See him with your own... well, you¡¯ll see him." A faint, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips, the sarcasm a shield for his secret. "I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you sooner. It all happened so quickly¡ªarranging the transfer, ensuring his safety. There wasn¡¯t time, and then... everything else exploded."


    She studied him, the apology hanging between them like a fragile bridge. Part of her wanted tosh out, to demand more, but exhaustion dulled her edges. Instead, she nodded faintly. "Okay. I... thank you. For protecting him."


    The air shifted then, charged with an unspoken tension. Rafael¡¯s hands moved with deliberate care, "feeling" his way as he lifted her from hisp and onto the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight, the silk sheets cool against her skin. She watched him, her heart pounding, as he pretended to navigate blindly¡ªhis fingers tracing the edge of the bed, his movements precise yet hesitant for show.


    "Here," he said softly, pulling back the covers with one hand while steadying himself with the other. "Lie down. You need rest."


    Eliana hesitated, her cheeks flushing a deep rose. This was intimate, vulnerable¡ªhim tucking her in like a cherished lover. But sheplied, sliding under the sheets, her worn-out sweater rumpling beneath her. "Rafael, you don¡¯t have to¡ª"


    "I want to," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He smoothed the nket over her, his touch lingering on her shoulder, warm and reassuring. Then, with a fluid motion that belied his feigned paralysis, he transferred himself from the wheelchair to the bed¡¯s edge, leaving the chair behind. He slid in beside her, the mattress shifting as his tall, athletic frame settled.


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched, her body tensing. "What are you doing?"


    "Staying with you," he replied simply, his arm snaking around her waist. To her own surprise, she didn¡¯t pull away. Instead, she let him draw her close, her back pressing against his chest, his warmth enveloping her like a cocoon. His scent¡ª that heady mix of sandalwood and power¡ªwashed over her, lulling her senses.


    "Rafael..." she whispered, half-protest, half-surrender, her voice shy and trembling.


    "Shh," he soothed, his lips brushing her forehead in a soft, tender kiss. It was feather-light, yet it ignited a spark in her core, sweet and electric. "Just rest. I¡¯ll take good care of you from now on, Eliana. I promise."


    Shey there, confused and conflicted, her mind a whirlwind. Why was he suddenly so sweet, this cold, calcting man who¡¯d upended her life? And why wasn¡¯t she pushing him away? Instead, she rxed into his strong arms, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her back aforting rhythm. His embrace felt safe, forbidden, exhrating. A small, shy smile curved her lips as sleep tugged at her again, his scent and warmth luring her into oblivion.


    As the morning light filtered through the curtains, Eliana drifted off, unaware of the love taking root in the shadows of deception.


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 Chapter 65: Dreams to Memories

    <h4>Chapter 65: Dreams to Memories</h4>


    Rafael Vexley drifted into sleep with Elianafortably nestled in his arms, her warmth calming him in a way nothing else ever had. Her breathing fell into rhythm with his, steady and quiet¡ªlike the first song he¡¯d ever trusted. The velvet curtains muted the moonlight into soft silver streaks, wrapping the room in a false sense of calm. For once, his mind loosened its grip on reality and slipped under.


    And that¡¯s when the dream hit.


    At first, it was almost too gentle, too beautiful to be real. He stood barefoot in a meadow that stretched endlessly, sunlight spilling over him like it had been waiting just for him. The grass brushed against his ankles, cool and ticklish, alive in a way he hadn¡¯t felt in years. Wildflowers exploded everywhere¡ªscarlet, gold,vender¡ªswaying in a breeze that smelled like rain, honey, and something he couldn¡¯t name but somehow knew meant home.


    Then came the sound:ughter. Not mocking. Not cruel. Pure. Unshaken. It pulled him forward before he even realized his feet were moving.


    And then, she appeared like a miracle he didn¡¯t remember praying for¡ªa little girl, maybe five, running straight toward him with her arms wide open. Her curls, ck and springy, bounced just like Eliana¡¯s. Her gray eyes sparkled with abination of innocence and mischief that melted his heart in an instant. She wore a white sundress speckled with embroidered flowers, pink sandals pping against the ground as she sprinted.


    "Papa!" She shouted.


    The word wasn¡¯t just a call¡ªit was a deration, bright and certain. She flew into his arms, and he caught her without thought, spinning her until the whole world blurred into streaks of color and light. Herughter filled the air, bubbling, unstoppable, wrapping itself around his chest until it felt like his heart might finally break open.


    "Oh, Papa, you¡¯re so strong!" she eximed, her small hands cupping his chiseled jawline. Her eyes, so much like his, gazed up at him with unwavering adoration. "I missed you so much! Promise you¡¯ll never let me go?"


    Rafael¡¯s chest tightened with an emotion he hadn¡¯t felt in forever¡ªpure, unadulterated love. He knelt down to her level, his tall, athletic frame folding gracefully, and brushed a stray curl from her forehead. "I promise, my little one," he murmured, his voice thick with tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show. "I¡¯ll always be here for you. What adventures shall we have today?"


    The girl pped her hands, her excitement infectious. "Let¡¯s build a castle! A big one, with towers that touch the sky, and a moat full of chocte milk!" She tugged at his hand, pulling him toward a pile of imaginary stones that materialized in the dreamscape. As they "built," her chatter filled the air, a symphony of childish wonder. "Papa, why do you look so sad sometimes? Is it because of the bad people?"


    He paused, his fingers halting in the air as if stacking invisible bricks. "Bad people?" he echoed, a faint shadow creeping into his tone. But she just giggled again, oblivious.


    "Yes, like the ones in stories. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll protect you! I¡¯m your brave knight." She brandished an imaginary sword, swishing it through the air with dramatic ir, nearly toppling over in her enthusiasm. Rafael couldn¡¯t help but chuckle¡ªa deep, genuineugh that rumbled from his chest, surprising even him. It felt foreign, this lightness, as if his sarcasm and walls had dissolved in the dream¡¯s warmth.


    "Alright, brave knight," he said, ying along with a mock salute. "Lead the way. But promise me something in return."


    She tilted her head, her expressionically serious. "What, Papa?"


    "Promise you¡¯lle see me soon," he said, the words slipping out unbidden,ced with a yearning he didn¡¯t fully understand. "In the real world. I need you there."


    Her face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. "I promise, Papa! I¡¯lle see you soon. We¡¯ll y forever!" She hugged him tightly, her small arms squeezing with all her might, and for a moment, everything was perfect¡ª a glimpse of a life untouched by betrayal, greed, and shadows.


    But dreams, like fragile ss, can shatter without warning. The meadow began to warp, the colors bleeding into grayscale, the wildflowers wilting under an encroaching fog. The little girl¡¯sughter faded, reced by the distant roar of engines and the acrid smell of exhaust. Rafael blinked, and she was gone, her promise echoing faintly: "I¡¯lle see you soon..."


    Then the dream shifted¡ªlike a film reel catching on fire. Sweetness bled away, reced by something jagged. Not fantasy but a memory.


    It dragged him back two years ago, to age twenty-seven, when he¡¯d been nothing but blind and vulnerable. A version of himself he hated to recall.


    The world rebuilt itself around him: the interior of a ck SUV, sleek and suffocating. The leather seats pressed cold against his palms, the faint scent of polish and gasoline heavy in the air. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence, a low vibration that only reminded him of everything he couldn¡¯t see.


    Back then, darkness had been his onlypanion¡ªthick, unbroken, absolute. The aftermath of the crash had swallowed his sight whole. This was before he wed back his vision. Before he learned how to weaponize a lie.


    Beside him sat Lena, his caregiver at the time¡ªa woman in her mid-thirties whose soft-spoken voice and unshakable patience had a way of wearing down even the sharpest edges of his mistrust. Months had passed under her care, an eternity by his standards, considering how quickly others before her had crumbled or revealed their true motives. She lingered where others hadn¡¯t, not because she forced herself in, but because her kindness seemed untainted by the greed that had bled from so many others. Against his better judgment, Rafael had begun to let her in¡ªa door he rarely, if ever, allowed anyone to touch.


    She drove with an ease that made the world outside feel less hostile, one hand steady on the wheel, the other asionally tapping in rhythm to the tune she hummed under her breath. It wasn¡¯t a song he recognized, but the melody threaded through the low purr of the engine, weaving a fragile calm around him. Her perfume¡ªa delicate blend of rose and something faintly citrus¡ªmingled with the crisp st of the air conditioning, anchoring him in the present. For a man who lived so often in silence and shadow, the small ritual of her humming felt like a tether, reminding him he wasn¡¯t entirely alone.


    "Lena, how much longer until we reach the office?" Rafael asked, his voice steady butced with the underlying impatience of a man who hated depending on others. He adjusted his dark wavy hair, his fingers "feeling" the dashboard absentmindedly, though inwardly he mapped every sound and vibration.


    "Not long now, Mr. Vexley," she replied warmly, her tone reassuring like always. "Traffic¡¯s a bit heavy today, but we¡¯re making good time. You have that board meeting at 10, right? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get you there with time to spare."


    He nodded, leaning back, his grey eyes¡ªtruly clouded then¡ªstaring sightlessly ahead. "Good. And remember, no detours. I need to review those tech reports before we arrive."


    "Of course," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You¡¯re always one step ahead, aren¡¯t you? That¡¯s why you¡¯re the boss."


    There was afortable silence, broken only by the asional honk from surrounding vehicles. Rafael allowed himself a rare moment of rxation, his mind drifting to business strategies, the empire he ruled from the ckness of his world. Lena had proven reliable: helping him navigate his life, reading documents aloud with precision, even sharing light banter that pierced his istion. He had thought she was different¡ªbetter than the parade of greedy aides who came before her, eyeing his fortune like wolves.


    But then, without warning, the SUV lurched to a stop. The tires screeched faintly, and Rafael¡¯s body jerked forward against the seatbelt. "What the hell?" he snapped, his hand instinctively gripping the door handle. "Lena? What¡¯s going on?"


    "Oh, um, sorry, Mr. Vexley," she stammered, her voice suddenly tense, a crack in her usualposure. "The car... it feels off. Like something¡¯s wrong with the engine. Let me just pull over and check it quick."


    Rafael¡¯s brow furrowed, suspicion flickering in his darkened world. "Pulled over? Where are we exactly?"


    "On the highway," she said hastily, unbuckling her seatbelt with a click that echoed too loudly in his ears. "It¡¯s probably nothing¡ªa loose wire or something. I¡¯ll be right back. Stay put, okay?"


    Before he could protest, the door opened, letting in a rush of hot air and the deafening roar of passing traffic. Cars whooshed by, their engines growling like wild beasts, horns ring in impatient symphony. "Lena?" he called out, his voice rising over the din. "Don¡¯t take too long. This doesn¡¯t feel right."


    "I won¡¯t! Just a minute!" she shouted back, her footsteps crunching on gravel as she moved away. Then, silence¡ªsave for the relentless highway noise.


    Minutes stretched like hours. Rafael waited, his heart rate climbing, fingers drumming on his thigh. "Lena?" he called again, louder this time, leaning toward the open door. No response. Panic began to coil in his gut, cold and insidious. He fumbled for his phone, the device a lifeline in his blindness, but as he pressed the voicemand, doubt gnawed at him. Where was she? Why wasn¡¯t she answering?


    "Lena! Get back here!" he bellowed, hismanding tone fracturing with urgency. The wind whipped through the open door, carrying no reply, only the chaotic symphony of speeding vehicles. He realized then, with a sinking dread, that she had abandoned him. Here, on a busy highway, blind and vulnerable," exposed like bait.


    Desperation overrode caution. Rafael unbuckled, his hands feeling his way out of the car, stepping onto the shoulder. The ground vibrated under his feet from the thundering traffic. "Lena? Where are you?" he shouted, voice raw with fear. Cars honked wildly, swerving perhaps¡ªhe couldn¡¯t see, but he felt the whoosh of air as they passed perilously close.


    In his disorientation, he stumbled forward, one step too far. A horn red¡ªa deafening warning toote. Tires screeched, and then impact: a ncing blow from a speeding sedan that sent him sprawling. Pain exploded through his body, asphalt tearing at his skin, the world spinning into chaos. "Help!" he gasped, but the word dissolved in the roar. Darkness deepened, not just his blindness, but unconsciousness iming him.


    Rafael jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat, sheets twisted around him like chains. His chest heaved, breaths ragged, as the master suite came into focus¡ªthe velvet curtains, the rumpled silk bed, Eliana, who was awake, looking at him with worry. The dream-memory clung to him like a shroud, haunting his every nerve. Mirabel¡¯s ws had reached even Lena, he knew now¡ªbribed or threatened into that betrayal, another pawn in the plot to eliminate him. His hands trembled as he wiped his forehead, eyes wide and piercing in the afternoon light. Trust was a luxury he couldn¡¯t afford... yet here he was, holding Eliana, daring to hope.


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 Chapter 66: Walls Again

    <h4>Chapter 66: Walls Again</h4>


    Eliana Bet stirred awake in the dim glow of the master suite, hershes fluttering against the light seeping through the expensive curtains. The afternoon sun crept in stubborn streaks, breaking the shadows with soft golden lines. Her body felt heavy, cocooned in warmth she wasn¡¯t ready to leave. And it took a moment for her senses to catch up. She was still wrapped in Rafael¡¯s arms, her cheek pressed against the firm ne of his chest, rising and falling with his steady breaths. The silk sheets tangled around them, a luxurious prison she hadn¡¯t expected to find herself in. Blinking slowly, she tilted her head up, careful not to disturb him, and let her gaze trace the contours of his face as if trying to memorize them without waking him.


    God, he was beautiful. No, more than that¡ªhandsome in a way that stole her breath, like a sculpture carved by some divine hand. His dark wavy hair fell across his forehead in disheveled waves, softening the sharp angles of his chiseled jawline. Those steel-grey eyes, hidden behind closed lids were framed by longshes that any woman would envy. His lips, full and slightly parted in sleep, looked so inviting, and a faint stubble shadowed his cheeks, adding to thatmanding, almost dangerous allure. Eliana couldn¡¯t help the silly smile that crept onto her face, pulling at her lips as she watched him. It was ridiculous, really¡ªstaring at her boss like this, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, warm and masculine, like storm clouds.


    <i>What am I doing? </i>her brain screamed in protest. This wasn¡¯t right. She was his caregiver, not his... whatever this was. Lying here in his bed, enveloped in his strong arms that held her with surprising gentleness, felt too intimate, too forbidden. She should slip away, put distance between them before things got even moreplicated. But her heart¡ªoh, that traitorous thing¡ªfluttered wildly in her chest, refusing to let her move. It pounded with a strange, exhrating rhythm around Rafael, like a drumbeat she couldn¡¯t ignore. Just a few more minutes, she told herself, her eyes lingering on the peaceful lines of his face. He looked so vulnerable in sleep, stripped of that cold, sarcastic armor he wore like a second skin.


    As she watched, mesmerized, a subtle change rippled across his features. His brows furrowed, drawing together in a deep frown, and a low groan escaped his lips. It was soft at first, almost a whisper, but it grew,ced with anguish. He shifted restlessly, his body tensing beneath her, as if invisible chains were pulling him into some dark abyss. Eliana¡¯s heart clenched with worry. Without thinking, she lifted her hand, her slender fingers hovering for a second before gently brushing against his forehead. She tried to smooth away the crease, her touch feather-light, tracing the lines of tension as if she could erase whatever nightmare gripped him.


    "Rafael?" she murmured softly, her voice nothing but a whisper, infused with concern.


    But before she could pullback, his eyes shot open¡ªsteel-grey, sharp and unguarded for just a second before he smothered them beneath the mask of blindness. He lurched upright, drenched in cold sweat, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. The sudden movement nearly sent Eliana stumbling, but she caught herself, one hand gripping his arm. A gasp escaped her as her curls slipped forward, spilling over her shoulder in a dark, silken fall


    "Rafael! Are you okay?" Eliana asked, her voice trembling with rm as she sat up beside him, her warm skin flushing with abination of worry and surprise. She searched his face, those expressive brown eyes wide and earnest, hoping to catch a glimpse of what haunted him.


    Rafael blinked rapidly, orienting himself in the room¡ªthe rumpled bed, the faint scent of her lingering on his skin¡ªbefore responding. His voice came out rough, edged with the remnants of the dream. "I¡¯m fine, Eliana. It was just a bad dream. Nothing more."


    But inside, the memory wed at him, refusing to release its hold. That caregiver from two years ago¡ªLena¡ªher betrayal reyed in his mind like a cursed loop. The abandonment on that roaring highway, the screech of tires, the impact that had nearly ended him. It was a cold reminder of what he¡¯d endured at the hands of those he¡¯d trusted before. Caregivers who saw him as a vulnerable target, a billionaire prize to exploit or discard. His hands trembled slightly as he wiped the sweat from his brow, the silk sheets pooling around his waist.


    Eliana hesitated, biting her full lip, her heart aching at the vulnerability she glimpsed beneath his stoic mask. She wanted to reach out again, tofort him the way he¡¯d unexpectedlyforted her earlier. "But... you were groaning, like you were in pain. What was it about? You can tell me, Rafael. I¡¯m here."


    He turned his head toward her voice, not truly seeing her¡ª or so she believed¡ªhis eyes unfocused, but in reality, they drank in every detail: the soft heart-shaped curve of her face, the hopeful smile that had faded into concern, the modest worn-out sweater that clung to her slender frame with natural elegance. For a fleeting moment, warmth flickered in his chest, but suspicion doused it like ice water. What if she was just like the others? Lena had seemed kind too, patient and untainted, until she wasn¡¯t. Eliana could be better at the game¡ªher over-trusting nature a perfect disguise for ulterior motives. The thought made his head throb, a dull ache pulsing behind his temples, as if his mind rebelled against the paranoia that had kept him alive.


    Before she could press further, Rafael¡¯s walls mmed back into ce. His voice suddenly turned cold, "Eliana, I need you to leave my room. James will take you to see your father. Go now."


    She blinked, stunned, her body freezing in ce. The shift was so abrupt, like a storm cloud swallowing the sun. "What? Rafael, I... did I do something wrong? You were holding me just a moment ago, and now¡ª"


    "Hurry up and leave," he interrupted, his tone sharpening,ced with impatience. He gestured vaguely toward the door, his athletic build tensing under the crisp designer shirt that hade untucked in sleep. "I want to be alone. Now."


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened, confusion swirling with hurt. She hadn¡¯t understood the sudden chill; one minute, she was lost in the intimacy of watching him, and the next, he was pushing her away like she was an intruder. Her brain raced, reying their moments together¡ªthe way his arms had felt so safe, his scent still clinging to her skin. What had changed? "Rafael, please, talk to me. If it¡¯s about the dream, I can help. I don¡¯t want to leave you like this."


    "Leave immediately!" he yelled, his voice booming through the suite, echoing off the walls like thunder. The sarcasm that usuallyced his words was gone, reced by raw frustration born from his inner turmoil.


    Eliana yelped, a sharp, startled sound escaping her lips as she scrambled off the bed, her worn-out sweater tangling briefly around her legs. Her heart pounded in her ears, a mix of fear and bewilderment flooding her. She cast onest nce at him¡ªhis face a mask of regret flickering beneath the anger¡ªbefore bolting for the door, her footsteps soft but hurried on the plush carpet. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the room in heavy silence.


    Rafael sank back against the pillows, his hands fisting the sheets as immediate regret washed over him like ocean waves. Damn it, he hadn¡¯t meant to yell, hadn¡¯t wanted to see that yelp of surprise on her face, the way her expressive eyes had widened in hurt. Eliana wasn¡¯t like the others; deep down, he knew that. Her kindness wasn¡¯t a facade¡ªit radiated from her, warm and genuine, cracking the walls he¡¯d built so meticulously. But the nightmare had reopened old wounds, and trust... trust was a fragile thing he couldn¡¯t afford to shatter again. He needed to be alone, to think, to sort through the chaos in his mind. The empire he ruled, the secrets he guarded¡ªthey all demanded his caution. Yet, as he stared sightlessly at the ceiling¡ªpretending even to himself¡ªhis thoughts drifted back to her hopeful smile, and a pang of longing twisted in his chest.


    Outside the door, Eliana paused in the hallway, her back against the cool wood, breathing deeply to steady herself. What had just happened? Her mind whirled with questions, but her heart¡ªstill fluttering strangely¡ªwhispered that there was more to Rafael than his cold exterior. She smoothed down her curls, forcing a steady smile before slipping into her room to freshen up. A quick shower and change into clean clothester, she drew in a breath and stepped out, making her way toward the foyer where James was waiting. Visiting her father would ground her, remind her of who she was. But as she walked away, she couldn¡¯t shake the image of Rafael¡¯s tormented face, nor the silly smile she¡¯d worn while watching him sleep. Whatever this was between them, it was far from over.


    Rafael remained in the bed, the room feeling emptier without her presence. The scent of her¡ªsomething soft and floral, like wildflowers in spring¡ªlingered on the pillows, mocking his istion. He rubbed his temples, the headache intensifying as memories of past betrayals collided with the budding hope Eliana inspired. "What are you doing to me?" he muttered to the empty air, his voice low and ragged. Part of him wanted to call her back, to apologize, to let her smooth away the frowns not just in sleep but in waking life. But the puppet master in him held firm. He had faked blindness and paralysis to expose greed; now, he wondered if he was faking detachment to protect a heart that had started beating again.


    In the distance, he heard the faint sound of a car engine revving¡ªJames preparing to take her away. Regret gnawed deeper, but he didn¡¯t move. Solitude was his armor, even if it chafed. For now, he would think, n, and perhaps¡ªagainst all his better judgment¡ªhope that Eliana was the one who could finally set him free.


    Eliana slid into the back seat of the ck car, James nodding politely from the driver¡¯s seat. "Ready to see your father, Miss Bet?"


    She forced a nod, her voice steady despite the turmoil. "Yes, James. Thank you." As the car pulled away from the mansion, she nced back at the towering structure, wondering about the man inside. "Rafael... what secrets are you hiding?" she whispered to herself, her fingers tracing the window ss. The drive stretched ahead, but her thoughts remained tangled in that bedroom, in the arms of a man who both pushed her away and pulled her closer.


    Back in the suite, Rafael finally rose, his tall frame creating a long shadow across the floor. He moved to the window, "staring" out at the manicured grounds below, though his mind¡¯s eye reyed Eliana¡¯s concerned face. "Damn dream," he growled, punching the wall lightly in frustration. The pain grounded him, a reminder that vulnerability was a luxury for fools. Yet, as the afternoon light faded, he couldn¡¯t deny the crack in his walls¡ªwidening with every thought of her.

 Chapter 67: Growing Fears

    <h4>Chapter 67: Growing Fears</h4>


    The clean ck sedan glided smoothly along the winding roads leading away from the Vexley mansion, dark windows hiding its passengers from the afternoon sun. In the back seat, Eliana leaned into the leather, eyes fixed on the blur of manicuredwns and bursting gardens outside. They looked too perfect, too far removed from her own humble reality. Her mind was still tangled in everything that had just happened with Rafael, leaving her eyes distant and clouded.


    Up front, James kept his usual calm, his neatlybed dark hair and sses giving him that dependable, bookish air. Every now and then he checked the mirror, catching glimpses of her distant stare. He didn¡¯t push, but the concern was there.


    The car was filled with the steady hum of the engine and the faint, expensive scent of polished leather. Outside, the sun zed hard, turning the road into a shimmering mirage. Finally, James cleared his throat, breaking the silence.


    "Hot one today, isn¡¯t it, Miss Bet. Feels like summer¡¯s jumped the line. Hard to believe we were still shivering in coats not too long ago."


    Eliana blinked, pulled from her reverie. She managed a small smile, her lips curving slightly as she turned toward him. "Yeah, it is hot. I didn¡¯t expect it to feel this way so soon. What do you like to do in the summer, James? To beat the heat, I mean."


    James chuckled, adjusting his sses with one hand while keeping the other steady on the wheel. His smile lit up his face, making the frames only add to his charm. "Me? I¡¯m not all thatplicated," he said, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Give me a weekend barbecue, music ying low, a good drink in hand, and I¡¯m set. Or maybe a long drive down to the coast with the windows down¡ªnothing beats the ocean breeze. What about you, Miss? You seem like the type who¡¯d enjoy being out in the open, chasing a little adventure."


    To her own surprise, Eliana felt a warmth spread through her at the easy conversation. It was unexpected, this light banter with James, who had always seemed so formal. "I do love summer," she admitted, her voice softening with nostalgia. "Pics in the park, swimming in theke... My Papa and I used to pack sandwiches and spend the whole day out there. And my grandfather¡ªhe¡¯d tell these ridiculous stories about his fishing adventures, half of them made up, I¡¯m sure. We¡¯dugh until our sides hurt."


    James nodded, his tone warm and engaging. "Sounds like good times. Family like that is priceless. Bet those stories had some tall tales in ¡¯em¡ªfish this big, right?" He held his hands apartically wide, mimicking an exaggerated catch, and Eliana couldn¡¯t help but let out a genuineugh, light and melodic, cutting through the tension in her chest.


    "They did! He¡¯d swear he once caught a trout that could sing opera." She giggled, but then her expression faltered, her curls falling over her shoulder as she looked down at her hands, twisting them in herp. "But... I can¡¯t do any of that anymore. Not with Papa in the hospital, and Grandpa... he¡¯s gone now. It¡¯s just not the same. Summer feels empty without them."


    The car hit a gentle bump, and James¡¯s face grew sympathetic in the mirror. "Ah, Miss Bet, don¡¯t let that sadness weigh you down too heavy. Everything¡¯s gonna be alright, you hear? Life has a way of turning around when you least expect it. Your father¡¯s a fighter, from what I¡¯ve seen. And those memories¡ªthey¡¯re yours forever."


    Eliana sighed, her eyes glistening slightly. "I hope so. It¡¯s just hard, you know? Seeing him like this. It makes me really sad, coupled with everything happeningtely... "


    James¡¯s voice took on a more serious edge, his usual jovial demeanor shifting as he navigated a turn. "Listen, Miss... don¡¯t hate Mr. Vexley too much for his attitude. He¡¯s a tough nut to crack, that one. Finds it hard to trust folks, especially caregivers like yourself. You¡¯ve barely settled in, and it¡¯s been one thing after another¡ªincidents left and right. But over the years, I¡¯ve seen it all. So many caregivers havee and gone, and too many tried to... well, eliminate him. Poison in his food, tampering with his meds. It¡¯s heartbreaking."


    Eliana¡¯s breath caught, her warm brown skin paling slightly as she leaned forward. "Eliminate him? You mean... kill him? Why would anyone do that?"


    James nced back briefly, his eyes grave. "It¡¯s the money, Miss. The inheritance. Mirabel Vexley¡ªRafael¡¯s stepmother¡ªshe¡¯s got her ws in deep. Always finds a way to turn those caregivers. Promises them a cut, I suppose, or threatens ¡¯em. They end up betraying him in the most inhumane ways, all so she can snatch everything for herself and her kids. Greed turns people into monsters."


    Eliana¡¯s heart pounded, a wave of nausea washing over her. She pressed a hand to her chest, her expressive eyes widening in horror. "I can¡¯t believe it. My own... I mean, how could someone like her be so wicked? All because of money? It¡¯s... it¡¯s unthinkable."


    James nodded solemnly, oblivious to her slip. "Innocently enough, I¡¯d say the one thing Mr. Vexley hates more than anything in this world is Mirabel Vexley and anyone close to her. Cuts deep, that betrayal. He¡¯s built walls higher than this mansion¡¯s gates because of it."


    Eliana¡¯s heart skipped a beat, thudding erratically against her ribs. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Anyone close to her? What... what do you think he¡¯d do if he found out someone was connected to her? Like, family or something?"


    James shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. "Hard to say, Miss. But it wouldn¡¯t be pretty. He¡¯s ruthless when ites to protecting what¡¯s his. Best not to dwell on hypotheticals, eh?"


    But Eliana couldn¡¯t help it. Her mind raced, a storm of fear and realization crashing over her. <i>What would Rafael do if he knew I was Mirabel¡¯s daughter? </i>The thought sent chills down her spine, her slender fingers gripping the seat edge. She understood even before now¡ªshe had to leave, to escape this tangled web before it ensnared herpletely. But how? Rafael¡¯s iron grip on her life felt unbreakable, his wealth and influence a chain she couldn¡¯t snap. The car fell into a contemtive silence as they approached the hospital, the weight of secrets pressing down like the heavy summer air.


    The hospital loomed ahead, a sprawling edifice of ss and marble that screamed luxury¡ªfar removed from the modest clinic where her father had been before. Palm trees lined the entrance, and valets in crisp uniforms hurried about, attending to sleek limousines. Eliana¡¯s eyes widened as they pulled up. "This ce... it¡¯s for extremely rich people. How am I ever going to pay Rafael back for all this? If he decides he wants the money..."


    James parked smoothly and turned to her with a reassuring smile. "Don¡¯t fret about that now, Miss. I¡¯ll give you some space to visit your father privately. Take your time¡ªI¡¯ll be right here when you¡¯re ready."


    Eliana nodded gratefully, clutching the bouquet of vibrant flowers and the woven fruit basket James had thoughtfully prepared. She stepped out, the hot sun kissing her skin as she entered the cool, air-conditioned lobby. The interior was opulent¡ªcrystal chandeliers creating rainbows on polished floors, soft ssical music ying in the background, and nurses in designer scrubs gliding by with tablets in hand. It felt like a five-star resort, not a hospital.


    Her father¡¯s room was on the upper floor, a suite more akin to a luxury hotel than a medical ward. Soft lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, with plush armchairs, a t-screen TV mounted on the wall, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens. Frank Bet sat propped up in bed, looking remarkably well¡ªhis cheeks had color, and his eyes lit up with joy as she entered.


    "Eliana! My girl, there you are!" Frank¡¯s voice boomed with affection, his arms opening wide despite the IV line. He was a sturdy man but his face bore the lines of hardship softened by his kind nature.


    "Papa!" Eliana rushed to him, setting the basket and flowers on a side table before enveloping him in a gentle hug. His familiar scent of soap and faint cologne brought tears to her eyes. "I¡¯ve missed you so much."


    Frank pulled back, his brow furrowing as he studied her face. "Missed me? Where¡¯ve you been, sweetheart? It¡¯s been a few days now¡ªno visits, no calls. And what¡¯s with this fancy new hospital? This ce looks like it costs more than our old supermarket!"


    Eliana hesitated, her heart aching at the concern in his voice. She busied herself arranging the flowers in a vase¡ªvibrant lilies and roses filling the room with their sweet perfume¡ªwhile avoiding his gaze. "I... I¡¯ve been busy, Papa. With work. And Rafael¡ªMr. Vexley¡ªhe thought this ce would be better for you. Morefortable."


    Frank¡¯s eyes narrowed, skepticism etching his features. "Busy, huh? Don¡¯t let that man spend a fortune on me, Eliana. It¡¯ll be a pain in the ass when hees knocking for his money back. I don¡¯t ever want to be a burden to you¡ª it¡¯d break my heart into a million pieces if I became that. You¡¯ve already sacrificed enough for this old man."


    Eliana forced a smile, her voice trembling slightly as she lied. "Papa, don¡¯t worry. Rafael¡¯s a good man. He promised me he wouldn¡¯t ask for the money back. It¡¯s all taken care of."


    Frank grunted, clearly unconvinced, but he let it slide with a sigh. "If you say so, kiddo. But I know a snake when I see one¡ªrich folks don¡¯t do favors without strings."


    They chatted for a while after that, the conversation flowing like old times. Frank regaled her with hospital gossip¡ªthe entric billionaire in the next suite who insisted on gourmet meals flown in from Paris¡ªand Eliana shared light anecdotes about her "job," careful to skirt the truth. She arranged the fruit basket on his bedside table, peeling an orange for him and handing over slices with a teasing grin. "Eat up, Papa. These are supposed to be the best¡ªJames picked them out."


    Frank chuckled, juice dribbling down his chin. "James, eh? He has always been a stand-up guy."


    Eventually, Eliana kissed his forehead goodbye, promising to visit soon. "I love you, Papa. Get some rest."


    "Love you too, sweetheart. Stay safe out there."


    She slipped out of the room, herposure cracking as soon as the door clicked shut. Instead of seeking James, she wandered down a quiet corridor, finding a secluded alcove with a bench overlooking a serene fountain in the garden below. The weight of it all¡ªRafael¡¯s mood swings, her mother¡¯s betrayal, the lies to her father¡ªknocked her down like a fast train. Eliana sank onto the bench, burying her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.


    "Why is this happening to me? I just... I just want to be free." She whispered brokenly to herself, her shoulders shook violently, every breath hitching as though the world itself was sitting on her chest.


    But then, out of nowhere, footsteps approached, soft and measured. The quiet rhythm breaking through her spiral of despair.


    A deep, smooth voice followed, calm but edged with genuine concern. "Hey... are you alright? Here, take this."


    Eliana looked up through blurry eyes, her breath hitching as a handsome man extended a crisp white handkerchief. He was tall, with tousled brown hair, striking blue eyes, and a warm, concerned smile that lit up his chiseled features. But as recognition dawned, her eyes widened in shock, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 68: Old Friend

    <h4>Chapter 68: Old Friend</h4>


    Eliana Bet lifted her head slowly, her cheeks streaked with tears, her honey eyes still ssy from crying. Through the blur, she focused on the man in front of her. The little alcove off the hospital corridor suddenly felt smaller, the faint trickle of the fountain outside fading into background noise. Sunlight spilled through the tall window, catching the edges of his frame¡ªtousled brown hair that kept falling over his forehead, sharp blue eyes filled with both concern and something like surprise. He wore a in white coat over casual cks, a stethoscope hanging from his pocket like a quiet reminder of who he was trying to be. In his hand, he held out a folded handkerchief. It was spotless, marked with tiny stitched initials¡ªH.J.¡ªand she noticed the faint tremor in his fingers as he offered it to her.


    "Henry?" Eliana whispered, her voice cracking like fragile ss under pressure. She blinked rapidly, as if the sight of him might dissolve into another cruel trick of her overwhelmed mind. "Henry Jackson? Is that really you?"


    Henry¡¯s breath caught in his throat, his warm eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made the air between them thicken. He lowered himself onto the bench beside her, not too close, but close enough that she could smell the faint hint of antiseptic mixed with something earthier¡ªcigarette smoke? His hand still held out the handkerchief, but now it hovered uncertainly, as if touching her might shatter the moment. "Eliana... Bet. God, I can¡¯t believe it. It¡¯s you. Here, of all ces." His voice was deep and smooth,ced with genuine astonishment, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper¡ªrelief, perhaps, or the echo of long-buried longing.


    She took the handkerchief with trembling fingers, dabbing at her cheeks where mascara had smudged into dark rivulets. The fabric was soft against her warm skin, a smallfort in the storm of her emotions. "What... what are you doing here?" she managed, her lips quivering as she tried topose herself. The alcove¡¯s bench was cool beneath her, the worn-out fabric of her modest dress clinging slightly to her slender frame from the heat outside. She tucked a stray curl of her long hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.


    Henry leaned back slightly, his chiseled features softening into a wry smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. "Visiting my grandmother. She¡¯s been admitted here for a check-up¡ªnothing too serious, thank God. After I left her room, I... well, I was heading out for a quick smoke." He chuckled self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, I know¡ªironic, right? Aspiring doctor sneaking off for a cigarette. Don¡¯t judge me too harshly. Bad habit from college stress that I can¡¯t seem to kick. But then I heard... well, I saw you here, crying. At first, I thought I¡¯d just walk by, give you space. No one wants a stranger butting in on their pain. But something pulled me over. I couldn¡¯t just leave you like that."


    Eliana¡¯s heart fluttered at his words, a faint spark of warmth piercing the chill of her despair. She remembered him from those blurry college days¡ªtall, handsome, always with that reserved kindness that made him stand out in a sea of rowdy students. "A smoke? You? Mr. Future Doctor?" She let out a wateryugh, the sound fragile but genuine, breaking the tension like a ripple in the fountain¡¯s water. "I guess we all have our secrets. Thank you, though. For this." She held up the handkerchief, now damp with her tears. "I must look like aplete mess right now."


    "Not at all," Henry replied softly, his blue eyes tracing her face with an intensity that made her cheeks flush. "You look... just like I remember. Beautiful, even when the world¡¯s trying to break you." He paused, swallowing hard, as if the words had slipped out unbidden. "Eliana, what happened to you? I mean, back in college... you just vanished. One day you¡¯re in lectures, chatting about nursing rotations, and the next¡ªpoof. Gone. I asked around, you know. People said maybe you transferred schools or even moved out of the country. It didn¡¯t make sense. You were so passionate about bing a nurse. What... what changed?"


    She averted her gaze, staring at the manicured gardens below where flowers bloomed in defiant colors against the sterile hospital backdrop. The weight of her past settled on her chest, making each breath a struggle. "Money," she admitted quietly, her voiceced with bitterness and regret. "It alwayses down to that, doesn¡¯t it? College was expensive¡ªtuition piling up like a mountain I couldn¡¯t climb. My father... he¡¯s been sick for so long, it was just me scraping by. I couldn¡¯t keep up. Had to drop out. Now I¡¯m... working as a caregiver. For this billionaire guy, Rafael Vexley. It¡¯s not what I dreamed, but it pays the bills. Keeps Dad in ces like this." She gestured vaguely at the opulent surroundings, the crystal chandeliers in the distant lobby glinting like distant stars.


    Henry¡¯s expression darkened with empathy, his sharp features tightening as he processed her words. He shifted closer on the bench, his knee almost brushing hers, sending an unexpected jolt through her. "That¡¯s rough. I¡¯m so sorry, Eliana. I had no idea. You were always so determined in ss¡ªhelping everyone with notes, stayingte to study. I admired that about you. Hell, I envied it. I was grinding through med school prep, buried in textbooks, but you made it look effortless. And now... this? Life¡¯s not fair." He hesitated, his warm eyes searching hers. "I tried to find out more, you know. After you stopped showing up. I even mustered the courage to ask Jason about it."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched at the mention of Jason¡¯s name, her eyes shing with a mix of pain and surprise. "You asked Jason? What... what did he say?" Her voice trembled, the betrayal from her ex-fianc¨¦ still raw, like an open wound that refused to heal.


    Henry sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair, his posture slumping slightly under the weight of the memory. "He was casual about it, like it was no big deal. Said you transferred schools because you didn¡¯t like the one we were at. ¡¯She wanted a fresh start,¡¯ he told me. I believed him¡ªwhy wouldn¡¯t I? He¡¯s your fianc¨¦, after all. The guy you¡¯d been with since high school. I figured if anyone knew, it was him." His tone turned bitter, a rare edge creeping in. "But it hit me hard. The engagement news... God, that was a punch to the gut. I was at that party when he proposed. Saw him drop to one knee, the ring sparkling under those expensive chandelier lights. You looked so happy, Eliana. Radiant. Like all your dreams wereing true. I remember thinking, ¡¯Well, that¡¯s it. Any shot I had is gone forever.¡¯"


    Her eyes widened, shock rippling through her like a wave crashing against the shore. "Wait... what do you mean, ¡¯any shot you had¡¯?" She leaned forward, her heart pounding in her ears, the alcove¡¯s serene atmosphere suddenly charged with unspoken tension. The fountain¡¯s murmur seemed louder now, a backdrop to the drama unfolding between them.


    Henry froze, his blue eyes darting away for a moment before meeting hers again, vulnerability etched into his handsome face. He let out a nervousugh, but itcked humor¡ªmore like a release of pent-up emotion. "Ah, crap. I didn¡¯t mean to blurt that out. But... yeah it¡¯s out now. I¡¯ve been in love with you, Eliana. Since the very first time I met you. It was at that college party Jason threw, remember? The one with the terrible punch and that godawful ylist ring all night. You walked in,ughing at something Sarai said, your curls bouncing, those expressive eyes lighting up the room. I was smitten instantly. Like, hit-by-a-truck smitten. But then Jason introduced you as his girlfriend¡ªhigh school sweethearts, the whole fairy tale. I backed off right away. Thought your love story was too sweet to mess with. So I kept it to myself, loved you from afar. You had no room in your heart for anyone else. Every conversation we had? Jason¡¯s name was in it. ¡¯Jason this, Jason that.¡¯ I didn¡¯t want to interfere."


    Eliana¡¯s mouth fell open, her mind reeling as fragments of memories resurfaced¡ªstudy sessions where Henry¡¯s warm eyes lingered a second too long, the way he¡¯d always offer her his notes with that shy smile. Tears welled up again, but these weren¡¯t just from sorrow anymore; they were tangled with confusion and a faint flutter of warmth.


    "Henry..." her voice wavered. "I had no idea. None. You were always so kind, so reserved. I thought you were just being a good friend. I¡¯m so sorry for not noticing."


    Henry shook his head gently, cutting her apology short. "Don¡¯t be sorry for something like that, Eliana," he said softly. "You never had to know. I didn¡¯t expect you to."


    There was a pause¡ªquiet, heavy, the kind where unspoken words linger in the air.


    Eliana took a shaky breath, her eyes flickering to the floor before lifting back to him. "Jason and I... we¡¯re no longer together."


    For a moment, Henry¡¯s blue eyes widened, shock shing across them, but he didn¡¯t say anything. He only held her gaze, steady and patient, as if giving her the space she needed.


    "After my grandfather died, everything fell apart," she continued, her voice breaking as the memories spilled out. "Jason... he cheated. With Sarai, of all people. Our best friend." Her breath hitched, the pain raw and unfiltered. "I found them in bed together,ughing at me as they held each other. It shattered me."


    Henry¡¯s jaw clenched, anger shing in his eyes on her behalf. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering near hers before finally covering it. His touch was warm, steady¡ªan anchor in her storm.


    "Cheated? With Sarai? That bastard. And her... I always thought she was shady, the way she¡¯d hover around him. But Jason¡ªGod, he yed everyone. Including me. I wish I had trusted my gut and searched for you instead of taking Jason¡¯s words for it. After you left, and nobody knew for sure where you were, I told myself it was for the best. ¡¯Out of sight, out of mind,¡¯ right? Maybe I¡¯d forget you. Move on."


    He shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Spoiler: I didn¡¯t. Not even close. You¡¯ve been in my thoughts every day since."


    She squeezed his hand instinctively, her slender fingers intertwining with his, the contact sending a spark of electricity up her arm. For the first time in what felt like forever, Eliana felt seen¡ªnot as a caregiver, not as a betrayed fianc¨¦e, but as herself. "Henry, that¡¯s... I don¡¯t know what to say. It¡¯s overwhelming. Sweet, but heartbreaking too. If I¡¯d known... maybe things would¡¯ve been different. But back then, Jason was my everything. My dream guy. Childhood friend turned lover. I was so naive, so blind to his ws. The entitlement, the narcissism. He had me wrapped around his finger, and I forgave him for everything. Until I couldn¡¯t. And now, I¡¯m just too broken to try all that with anyone again."


    Henry nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand in soothing circles. "You weren¡¯t naive¡ªyou were in love. Real love, or what you thought was real. I get it. Watching from the sidelines hurt, but I respected it. That¡¯s why when the engagement happened... man, it was like a knife twist. The cheers, the toasts, you beaming with that ring on your finger. I slipped out early, nursed a beer alone in my dorm. Told myself to let go. But seeing you now? Crying in this fancy hospital alcove? It brings it all back. You¡¯re still that girl from the party¡ªkind, resilient, with that quiet strength that draws people in. Whatever¡¯s got you down, Eliana, you don¡¯t have to face it alone. You can count on me. No strings attached."


    Her tears flowed freely now, but they were cathartic, washing away some of the pain. She leaned her head on his shoulder, the fabric of his coat soft against her cheek, his cologne aforting blend of clean and subtle spice. "Thank you, Henry. For listening. For being here. I feel like I¡¯ve been drowning, and you¡¯re the first lifeline in ages."


    He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a protective embrace, his heart racing against her ear. "Hey, no more fooling yourself. You¡¯ve grown stronger¡ªI can see it in your eyes. Whatever chains you¡¯re in, we¡¯ll figure it out. If you¡¯ll let me."


    They sat like that for a long moment, the fountain¡¯s song weaving through the silence, as the weight of unspoken futures hung in the air between them.

 Chapter 69: Ambushed

    <h4>Chapter 69: Ambushed</h4>


    The fountain in the alcove kept trickling in the background, its steady sound filling the silence between Eliana and Henry. Neither of them spoke for a while¡ªten minutes, maybe more. Her head stayed against his shoulder, and his arm stayed firmly around her, like he was afraid to let go. Their shared past hung between them, fragile but unspoken. Eliana¡¯s tears had finally stopped, though her eyes were still red and swollen. She looked lighter somehow, as if saying the words had taken some of the weight off her chest. Henry¡¯s heartbeat felt strong and steady beneath it all, pounding with the feelings he¡¯d buried for years, feelings that were finally pushing their way to the surface.


    Finally, Eliana stirred, lifting her head with a soft sigh. "Henry, I... I really have to go. My father¡¯s visit is over, and it¡¯s gettingte."


    Henry¡¯s arm tightened briefly before releasing her, his warm eyes searching hers with a mix of reluctance and understanding. "Of course. But hey, if you need a ride, I could drop you off. My car¡¯s just in the visitor lot¡ªnothing fancy, but it¡¯ll get you where you need to be."


    Eliana shook her head gently, a small, appreciative smile curving her full lips. "That¡¯s sweet of you, but no. My boss had his secretary bring me here. As we speak, he¡¯s probably waiting in the parking lot, tapping his foot impatiently." She joked.


    Henry¡¯s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, his sharp features softening with admiration. "Whoa, your boss sounds like a stand-up guy. Rafael Vexley, right? The billionaire recluse everyone¡¯s heard of but no one really knows? Sending his secretary to chauffeur you around¡ªthat¡¯s not something you hear every day. He must really value you."


    Eliana¡¯s brown eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she only smiled faintly and nodded, her long hair swaying slightly. She didn¡¯t borate, the words caught in her throat like thorns. Instead, she stood, smoothing her modest dress, her natural elegance shining through despite the simplicity.


    Henry rose with her, his tall frame towering protectively. "Come on, at least let me walk you out. This hospital¡¯s a maze¡ªdon¡¯t want you getting lost on my watch."


    They strolled side by side through the sterile corridors, the fluorescent lights forming a soft glow on their faces. The air hummed with the distant beeps of machines and muffled conversations, but between them, afortable quiet reigned. As they emerged into the crisp evening air, the parking lot stretched out under the fading sunset, cars glinting like scattered jewels. Eliana spotted the sleek ck Mercedes idling nearby, its polished surface screaming luxury.


    They stopped a few feet from the car, the gravel crunching under their shoes. Eliana turned to him, her expressive eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Henry, thank you¡ªfor today, for listening, for... everything. It¡¯s been a whirlwind, but you made it bearable."


    He grinned, that warm, reserved smile lighting up his handsome face. "It was my pleasure, Eliana. Seriously, being your listening ear? Best gig I¡¯ve had in years. Just promise me you¡¯ll take care of yourself out there."


    Before she could step away, Henry¡¯s cheeks flushed a subtle pink, his ambition momentarily giving way to shyness. He rubbed the back of his neck, ncing down at his shoes. "Uh, before you go... could I get your number? You know, in case you need another shoulder¡ªor just want to grab coffee sometime."


    Eliana¡¯s smile widened, genuine and hopeful, chasing away the shadows of her pain. She pulled out her phone, her slender fingers tapping quickly. "Of course. Here you go."


    He entered the digits with care, as ifmitting a sacred code to memory. "Perfect. I¡¯ll text you tonight¡ªmake sure you got home safe."


    With a final nod, Eliana turned and approached the car, her heart lighter yet heavier with possibilities. She slid into the backseat, the leather cool against her skin.


    James was already in the driver¡¯s seat, his posture impable in his tailored suit. He nced back with a warm, professional smile. "Good evening, Miss Bet. All set?"


    "Yes, thank you, James."


    James slid into the driver¡¯s seat and turned the key, the engine humming to life. He didn¡¯t pull out right away, just rested his hands lightly on the wheel before ncing at Eliana.


    "If you don¡¯t mind me asking," he said, curiosity soft but genuine, "who was that gentleman who walked you out? Looked like a friend."


    Eliana leaned back against the seat, her gaze drifting toward the hospital entrance still visible through the window. "Just an old friend from college. We bumped into each other unexpectedly."


    James nodded, epting her answer without pressing further. "Ah, small world." He paused a beat, his tone gentle. "And your visit with your father¡ªeverything wrapped up?"


    "Yes," she said quietly. "It was... good to see him."


    His smile reached his eyes, softening his expression. "I¡¯m d to hear that." He tapped the wheel lightly, then looked over at her again. "Shall we head out now?"


    Eliana gave a small nod. "Please."


    Just as James shifted the car into drive, his phone buzzed insistently from the console. He frowned slightly, ncing at the screen. "My apologies, Miss Bet. I need to take this¡ªwon¡¯t be a moment."


    He stepped out, closing the door softly, his voice muffled as he answered. Eliana watched him pace a few steps away, his free hand gesturing animatedly. After a couple of minutes, he returned, sliding back in with an apologetic bow of his head. "Sorry about that. Business never sleeps. Let¡¯s get you home."


    The drive was uneventful, the city lights blurring into streaks as they sped along the highway. Eliana¡¯s mind wandered, reying the day¡¯s emotional rollercoaster¡ªthe catharsis with Henry, the worry for her father, the looming shadow of Rafael¡¯s unpredictable moods.


    Back at the sprawling Vexley estate, the grand mansion loomed like a fortress under the twilight sky, its stone facade illuminated by strategically ced lights. As James parked and helped Eliana out, she noticed an unusual sight: Rafael Vexley himself, seated in his wheelchair by the ornate fountain in the front courtyard. He held a crystal ss of whisky, the amber liquid catching the light, while a few maids stood silently nearby, their postures rigid with deference. Eliana¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion; in all her time here, she¡¯d never seen him venture outside like this, exposed to the evening breeze that rustled the manicured hedges.


    Unbeknownst to her, Rafael had been a storm of conflict since their earlier confrontation. The way he¡¯d snapped at her, his voiceced with undeserved venom¡ªit gnawed at him. Waking from that nightmare, fragments of betrayal and pain from his past, he¡¯dshed out, and now regret coiled in his chest like a serpent. Pacing the house in his mind hadn¡¯t helped; the fresh air, even if it meant feigning his disabilities, was a desperate attempt to calm his frayed nerves while awaiting her return.


    Eliana and James approached quietly, their footsteps soft on the cobblestone path. Rafael, ever the master of deception, tilted his head as if sensing their presence through some invisible cue, his grey eyes fixed on nothingness.


    "James, is that you with Miss Bet?" His voice was smooth,manding, with a hint of warmth that surprised even him.


    "Yes, sir," James replied evenly.


    Rafael turned his face toward Eliana¡¯s direction. "Did you see your father, Eliana? How is he?"


    She hesitated, her voice steady butced with caution. "Yes, I did. He¡¯s... holding on."


    A small smile tugged at Rafael¡¯s chiseled jawline, his dark wavy hair tousled by the wind. "Good. Go freshen up for dinner. It¡¯ll be ready soon."


    Eliana didn¡¯t argue, nodding even though he couldn¡¯t "see" it. As she passed, Rafael¡¯s sharp senses caught the faint red marks on her wrists¡ªremnants of the zip ties from her recent kidnapping ordeal. His jaw tightened imperceptibly, a surge of protectiveness mixing with his guilt.


    Once she was out of earshot, Rafael gestured subtly. "James,e with me to the study."


    They moved inside, the wheelchair gliding silently across the marble floors. In the dimly lit study, lined with leather-bound books and glowing screens, Rafael dropped the act. He stood from the wheelchair with fluid grace, his athletic build uncoiling like a predator. James, privy to the secret, didn¡¯t bat an eye.


    "First things first," Rafael said, his piercing eyes narrowing. "Have one of the maids tend to Eliana¡¯s wristster. Those marks¡ªmake sure they¡¯re treated properly. Ointment, bandages, whatever she needs."


    "Of course, sir," James replied.


    Rafael paced to the window, staring out at the darkening grounds. "And the information I requested? On her friend Sarai and Sarai¡¯s sister Bianca?"


    James pulled a slim folder from his briefcase, handing it over. "All here, sir. Detailed backgrounds, connections, everything you need."


    Rafael flipped through it briefly, his cold, calcting mind absorbing the details. "Excellent. Thank you. Now, prepare a reservation at La Belle ¨¦poque¡ªthe private room. For tomorrow evening. Eliana and I will be dining with Sarai and Bianca."


    James nodded, making a note on his tablet. "Consider it done."


    With that, Rafael straightened his crisp designer suit, sat back down on his wheelchair, and headed to the dining room, the scent of roasted herbs and fine wine already wafting through the air.


    Dinner was a tense affair, the long mahogany table set with crystal and silver under the chandelier¡¯s soft glow. Eliana sat opposite Rafael, her focus glued to her te¡ªtender filet mignon, asparagus drizzled in hondaise, a ss of untouched red wine. She ate mechanically, her mind racing with escape ns<i>. ¡¯How can Papa and I slip away? Rafael¡¯s grip is irond. If he discovers my link to Mirabel...¡¯ </i>The thought sent chills down her spine, her emotional resilience cracking under the strain. She feared another outburst, his sharp tongue slicing through her like before.


    Rafael, meanwhile, toyed with his fork, his thoughts a whirlwind of remorse.<i> ¡¯How do I apologize without revealing too much? She doesn¡¯t deserve my anger¡ªit¡¯s my scars, not hers.¡¯</i> The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, broken only by the clink of utensils.


    As the meal ended, Eliana pushed her chair back, her voice polite but distant. "Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Vexley."


    Before he could respond, she slipped away, heading down the dimly lit hall toward her room. Unseen, Rafael followed, his wheelchair silent on the shiny marble. As she turned the corner, he reached out with surprising speed, pulling her onto hisp. Eliana gasped, her body tensing in shock as he wheeled them swiftly toward his room.


    "Rafael! What are you doing? Let me go¡ªwhat do you want from me?" Her voice rose, a mix of fear and frustration, her hands pushing against his broad chest.


    He ignored her protests until they were inside his opulent bedroom, the door clicking shut. The space was a blend of luxury and istion, a faint scent of his cologne lingering.


    Eliana squirmed, but Rafael¡¯s arms encircled her, pulling her into a firm hug. His voice, usually cold and sarcastic, softened to a rumble. "Eliana, stop. I¡¯m sorry¡ªfor how I acted this afternoon. I woke from a nightmare, fragments of my past haunting me, and I took it out on you. It wasn¡¯t fair."


    She froze, her heart pounding against his. "You always do that, Rafael. Always take your anger out on me. Like I¡¯m your punching bag."


    He pulled back slightly, his grey eyes fighting with every emotions in him not to lock on hers. "I know. And from now on, I won¡¯t. I promise. I¡¯ll cherish you better, treat you with the care you deserve."


    Eliana¡¯s brows furrowed, confusion and vulnerability swirling in her brown depths. "Why? After all, I¡¯m just your employee. Your caregiver. Why go through all this?"


    Rafael¡¯s gaze darkened with unspoken desire. As she spoke, he cupped her soft face, his thumb tracing her pink lips. Without warning, he captured them in a kiss¡ªdeep, urgent, silencing her protests. His lips moved against hers with a hunger born of loneliness, his hands tangling in her curly ck hair, pulling her closer.


    Eliana¡¯s world tilted, shock melting into a reluctant spark. The kiss deepened, emotional walls crumbling in the heat of the moment. In her jeans pocket, her phone vibrated and lit up¡ªa text from Henry: <i>¡¯Hey, Eliana. Got home safe? Have time to talk?¡¯ </i>But she was lost, preupied with Rafael¡¯s lips on hers, the world fading to nothing but this stolen intimacy.


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 Chapter 70: Confession

    <h4>Chapter 70: Confession</h4>


    In the hushed opulence of Rafael Vexley¡¯s bedroom, silence wasn¡¯t empty¡ªit was weighted, alive, as though the walls themselves held their breath. The air carried his signature¡ªsandalwood, rich and smoky¡ªyet beneath it lingered something sharper, restless, like a storm pacing the edge of release.


    The room was every bit the fortress of a man who lived behind walls: a four-poster bed draped in midnight silk, art that watched like unblinking witnesses, and a towering window spilling moonlight across the polished floor. Outside, the gardens blurred into shadow, the kind of view meant for royalty¡ªor for a man too guarded to let anyone see him.


    Eliana Bet found herself perched on Rafael¡¯sp, hardly breathing, her body trembling against the solid press of his frame. Her pulse thrashed in her ears as his mouth captured hers, a kiss that came like a storm breaking open the night. Fire and hunger fused in that single moment, his lips moving with urgency, with a need so raw it almost scared her.


    His hands¡ªbroad, certain¡ªheld her face as though she might shatter if he let go, a startling contrast to the intensity of his kiss. He tasted of whisky, faint but unmistakable, the lingering reminder of the ss he¡¯d abandoned by the fountain earlier. The vor mixed with her own quick breath, something sweet, startled, hesitant. A strand of his dark, wavy hair brushed across her skin, soft against the sharp edges of the moment, and her fingers¡ªshe hadn¡¯t even realized she was gripping his shirt¡ªcreased the pristine designer fabric into something reckless, undone.


    At first, every muscle in her body screamed to resist. Her lips parted, not just in surprise but in protest. "Rafael... no," she whispered against his mouth, her words shaky, almost drowned by the fire of his insistence. Her palms pressed against the hard line of his chest, trying to push him back, though her touch barely made him budge. She could feel his heartbeat there, fierce and fast, echoing her own, and that terrified her more than anything.


    Because it wasn¡¯t only his heart racing¡ªit was hers too.


    Her eyes, wide and conflicted, closed almost of their own ord. And when the kiss deepened, when his tongue teased the boundary of her restraint, her body betrayed her. She leaned into him, just a breath closer. Her hands that had tried to push him away clung instead to the heat of him. The protest dissolved into a different kind of surrender.


    Her lips moved with his, at first shaky, then surer, until she matched him¡ªheat for heat, hunger for hunger. It was reckless, dangerous, a rhythm building between them like a free fall neither of them had the power to stop.


    What am I doing? The thought spun in Eliana¡¯s mind like a storm she couldn¡¯t outrun, even as her arms looped tighter around his neck. Her curls tumbled forward, spilling between them like a curtain, hiding the world and leaving only him¡ªthe man she swore she wouldn¡¯t fall for, yet couldn¡¯t resist.


    <i>¡¯Why am I kissing Rafael Vexley?¡¯ </i>


    He wasn¡¯t just any man. He was her boss, a fortress of power wrapped in immacte suits and dangerous charm. The one who barked orders in boardrooms with that cool, cutting precision that made seasoned executives bow. And yet here she was, lips pressed to his, heat sparking through her veins as if her body had betrayed every boundary she¡¯d set.


    It felt wrong. Every part of it screamed that it was wrong. And yet... it felt right. Too right. The taste of him lingered, dark and intoxicating, and she didn¡¯t want it to stop. Couldn¡¯t.


    Her brown skin flushed with a feverish heat, her pulse tripping over itself as exhration and shame warred inside her chest. Since the moment she stepped into this mansion¡ªthis gilded cage he called home¡ªtheir lives had been colliding in ways she couldn¡¯t exin. Heated arguments that left her breathless, stolen nces across marble halls, silences so thick they hummed with everything unsaid.


    And then... those nights. Two of them. Nights where control slipped and the lines blurred beyond recognition. Nights where she let herself get lost in him¡ªhis hands, his mouth, the sheer consuming fire of it all. Nights that ended in tangled sheets, gasping breaths, and the ache of knowing it meant nothing more than what it was.


    Or did it?


    Her mind raced, but doubt gnawed sharper than any pleasure. <i>¡¯What am I to him?¡¯ </i>she thought bitterly<i>. ¡¯Another conquest? A naive girl from the wrong side of town too blinded by power to say no?¡¯ </i>


    The kiss deepened, and her heart clenched. Rafael¡¯s hands roamed with a deliberate hunger, one sliding down the curve of Eliana¡¯s back to pull her impossibly closer, the other tangling deep in her curls as though afraid she might vanish if he let go. His mouth left hers only to ze a path along her jawline, lingering at the delicate curve of her neck. His breath was fire, hot against her skin, and the shiver that rushed down her spine betrayed her resolve.


    Her body arched instinctively, a soft, unguarded moan escaping her lips¡ªa sound that felt like a secret she hadn¡¯t meant to give away.


    "Rafael... please." Her whisper trembled, caught between protest and surrender as his lips brushed her corbone. "Stop... I don¡¯t... I don¡¯t want to be that woman. The kind who keeps... falling into this with her boss when we¡¯re not even..." Her words faltered when his teeth grazed her skin, a spark igniting low in her stomach. "...when we¡¯re not even anything."


    She clutched his shoulder with one hand, the other trembling as it traced the sharp line of his jaw. Her confession spilled out in fragments, punctuated by her gasps. "I¡¯m not... I¡¯m not like this, Rafael. I¡¯ve only ever been with one man before you. Jason. Just him. And now..." Her breath caught as another weak moan slipped free. "...now there¡¯s you. And I don¡¯t even know what this is."


    Her honey-brown eyes, half-lidded with desire, shimmered with conflict. Her slender frame seemed to melt into him, molding against his body like y softened by fire. <i>¡¯Why do I always crumble like this?¡¯ </i>she thought desperately. <i>¡¯This isn¡¯t right. This is chaos... chaos wrapped in silk sheets.¡¯ </i>


    Rafael froze, lips hovering over the frantic beat of her pulse. He could feel it hammering beneath his mouth, wild and fragile all at once. With a low, reluctant growl, he pulled back. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths, the echo of their kiss still burning between them.


    She was still perched on hisp, the rough denim of her jeans scraping against the tailored sharpness of his trousers. The wheelchair beneath them¡ªa careful piece of his deception¡ªmight as well have disappeared. His steel-grey eyes, veiled as unfocused and distant, were anything but. They drank her in, every detail: her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, the vulnerability carved into her expression.


    "Eliana," he rasped, his voice rougher than he intended, stripped of its usual armor. "I like you. I¡¯ve liked you since the moment I saw you."


    Eliana blinked, stunned. Her lips parted, but no sound came at first. When her voice did return, it was thin, disbelieving. "What? You... you like me? Rafael, that can¡¯t... that doesn¡¯t make sense. We¡¯re so different. And you¡¯ve been nothing but cold, distant, impossible¡ª"


    He didn¡¯t let her finish. With a sudden tenderness, he gathered her against him, burying his face in the thick tumble of her curls. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her¡ªvani shampooced with the faint earthiness of her day¡ªflooding him like oxygen to a drowning man.


    "I¡¯m telling you the truth," he murmured against her ear, his arms firm around her waist. "I know I don¡¯t make it easy to believe, but you¡¯re different. You see me, Eliana. Even when you don¡¯t realize it, you see through the walls I¡¯ve built."


    She eased back just enough to search his face, her hands steadying themselves on his shoulders. "Then why now? Why say this after everything? The fights, the distance... those nights. They felt like mistakes. Like I was convenient."


    Rafael shook his head, a rare, almost self-deprecating chuckle breaking from his chest. The sound surprised even him¡ªsoft, boyish in its vulnerability. "Convenient? No. Never. That night was real for me. More real than anything I¡¯ve allowed myself in years." His thumb brushed her cheek, tracing the soft curve of her face. "I¡¯m not certain what to call it yet, but... I think I¡¯m in love with you."


    Her breath caught. Brown eyes widened, reflecting the dimmplight in molten gold. The words carved into her chest with terrifying force¡ªhalf joy, half dread. "In love? With me? Rafael, that¡¯s... that¡¯s insane. I¡¯m nobody. Just a woman trying to keep her father alive, living paycheck to paycheck. You¡¯re Rafael Vexley. The recluse. The billionaire. The man who bends empires without lifting a finger."


    A faint smile curved his lips, softening the sharp lines of his jaw. In that moment, he didn¡¯t look like the untouchable king of a shadowed empire¡ªhe looked almost human, almost breakable. "Insane? Maybe. But it¡¯s still the truth. You¡¯ve cracked something in me, Eliana. Made me feel again after years of... nothing."


    His hands tightened at her hips, grounding her on hisp, the heat of his body seeping through the thin barrier of their clothes. "If words aren¡¯t enough, then let me prove it. I¡¯ll show you a secret. One I¡¯ve guarded with my life. If I share it with you, you¡¯ll know. You¡¯ll see that I trust youpletely."


    Eliana¡¯s pulse thundered in her ears. Her world narrowed to this moment¡ªthe mingling of their breath, the steady tick of the clock on the wall, the depth in his clouded grey eyes that seemed to hold more than she¡¯d ever understood.


    What secret could possibly bridge the impossible distance between them?


    The air crackled like a storm waiting to break.


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 Chapter 71: Decision

    <h4>Chapter 71: Decision</h4>


    Eliana Bet sat frozen on Rafael¡¯sp, her pulse thundering in her chest like it wanted to escape. His clouded eyes¡ªeyes she had sworn were blind¡ªlocked onto hers with an intensity that robbed her lungs of air. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, suspended in that dangerous stillness. His hands, broad and strong, rested firmly on her hips as though he could keep her there forever, refusing to let her slip away.


    The space between them was alive, humming with the taste of the kiss they had just shared, vibrating with the gravity of the words he had dared to speak. "Eliana," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to reverberate straight through her bones, "this secret... it¡¯s everything. Once I tell you, there¡¯s no going back."


    Her honey eyes widened, fear and longing warring in their depths. She leaned closer without realizing it, her dark curls sliding forward over her shoulder like a silken curtain, brushing against his jaw. Her lips parted, trembling with the question that wed at her chest. "Rafael, what could it possibly¡ª"


    Suddenly, a sharp knock splintered the moment, echoing through the heavy door like a gunshot. The fragile magic between them shattered instantly. Rafael¡¯s jaw clenched, steel lines cutting across his face as his grip on her waist tightened. He didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t move, only held his breath as though sheer will might banish whoever stood at the other side.


    Another knock came. Louder. More insistent.


    Eliana¡¯s body tensed in panic. Her mind raced¡ªWhat if it¡¯s someone who shouldn¡¯t see us like this? What if it¡¯s one of the maids or worse, Mirabel?¡ªand before she could think better of it, she scrambled off hisp, her worn jeans brushing against his tailored trousers with a whisper of fabric, the sound intimate in its own right.


    "Eliana, wait¡ª" His hand shot out, fingers grazing her arm, warm and desperate, but she was already retreating, tugging her blouse into ce with trembling hands, her chest still heaving.


    The knocking grew more impatient, rattling the door.


    Rafael¡¯s expression darkened, his carefully controlled facade cracking, revealing the raw storm beneath. A growl tore from his throat, low and feral, vibrating in the air between them. He spun his chair toward the door, voiceced with a razor-edge of fury.


    "Who the hell is it?"


    "It¡¯s James, sir," came the muffled reply from the other side. "I need to speak with you. It¡¯s urgent."


    Eliana¡¯s cheeks burned with a flush that had nothing to do with their earlier passion. She nced at Rafael, her clouded eyes somehow pleading. "You should... you should talk to him. I¡¯m feeling tired anyway. I need to go to bed." She moved toward the door, ignoring the way his hand shot out again, trying to halt her.


    "Damn it, Eliana, not yet¡ª" But she was already turning the knob, her heart fluttering wildly.


    She swung the door open, and there stood James, his usuallyposed face twisting in shock at the sight of her emerging from the bedroom at thiste hour. His eyes darted from her flushed face to her disheveled curls, piecing together the puzzle in an instant. "Miss Bet," he stammered, recovering with a polite nod. "Good evening."


    "Good evening, James," she replied, her voice breathy and unsteady. She forced a smile, but it wobbled at the edges. Without another word, she slipped past him, her footsteps quickening into a near-run down the dimly lit hallway toward her own room. Her bedroom door clicked shut behind her, leaving a trail of awkward silence in her wake.


    Rafael sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his chiseled jaw. "Come in, James," he grumbled, wheeling back to face the room¡¯s center. The wheelchair creaked faintly under his athletic frame, a prop in his borate deception.


    James entered, closing the door softly behind him. He adjusted his sses, his expression apologetic but firm. "Sir, I¡¯m sorry to interrupt. I thought you¡¯d want to know this immediately."


    Rafael¡¯s steel eyes narrowed, his sarcasm sharpening like ice. "Why now, of all times, James? I thought you¡¯d clocked out for the day. Can¡¯t this wait until morning?"


    James shifted ufortably, his loyalty evident in the way he met Rafael¡¯s gaze without flinching. "Again, my apologies, but no. My sources just confirmed it¡ªMirabel¡¯s brother and sister are arriving tomorrow to visit her. Victor and Lydia Voss would be here by midday."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw clenched so hard that a muscle ticked visibly along his sharp jawline. If there was anyone he despised more than his scheming stepmother, it was her siblings¡ªVictor, the bullying opportunist with a penchant for cruel pranks, and Lydia, the maniptive whisperer who twisted words like knives. Memories flooded him unbidden: back when he was truly blind and vulnerable after the crash that took his eyes, confined to his bed in agony. Victor had "identally" knocked over his medications,ughing as they scattered across the floor, leaving Rafael groping in the dark for hours. Lydia had been worse¡ªspreading rumors among the staff that he was faking his injuries for attention, isting him further in his loneliness. They¡¯d hovered like vultures, eyeing his inheritance while pretending concern, their visitsced with veiled threats and mocking jabs. The thought of facing them again twisted his gut with a cold rage.


    "Those bastards," Rafael muttered, his voice a low snarl. "Keep an eye on them, James. Every move. I don¡¯t want them slithering around unchecked."


    James nodded gravely, his brow furrowed. "I don¡¯t trust their agenda either, sir. It¡¯s too sudden. With everything going on... I advise not leaving Miss Bet alone tomorrow. They might try to use her, or worse."


    Rafael¡¯s hands gripped the arms of his wheelchair, knuckles whitening. The idea of Victor or Lydia anywhere near Eliana ignited a protective fire in his chest. "Agreed. She¡¯lle with me to the office tomorrow. No arguments."


    James inclined his head. "Wise choice. I¡¯ll handle the arrangements." With that, he excused himself, slipping out as quietly as he¡¯d arrived.


    Alone once more, Rafael exhaled a shaky breath, the room feeling emptier without Eliana¡¯s warmth. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, his fingers flying across the screen as he texted his mysterious friend¡ªthe only one who knew the full extent of his deceptions.


    <strong><i>"I¡¯ve decided. I¡¯m telling Eliana the truth. About the blindness, the paralysis. All of it."</i></strong>


    The reply came almost instantly, buzzing with shock:<strong><i> "What? Rafael, that¡¯s huge. I¡¯m thrilled for you, but why so soon? You¡¯ve guarded this like Fort Knox." </i></strong>


    Rafael leaned back, staring at the ceiling as emotions warred within him¡ªfear, longing, a rare spark of hope<strong><i>. "I¡¯m tired of hiding from her. My heart races like a damn fool whenever she¡¯s near. I want to look her in the eyes, really look, and let her see what¡¯s there. I¡¯m giving her the benefit of the doubt. Hoping she won¡¯t betray me. And honestly... I¡¯m exhausted. I need a partner, and I think she¡¯s it."</i></strong>


    His friend¡¯s response was warm, reassuring: <strong><i>"You¡¯re doing the right thing, man. Eliana¡¯s not like the others. She¡¯s genuine. She won¡¯t turn on you. Trust that gut of yours¡ªit¡¯s gotten you this far." </i></strong>


    A faint smile tugged at Rafael¡¯s lips, the first genuine one in hours. He set the phone aside, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a fraction.


    Meanwhile, in the sanctuary of her bedroom, Eliana paced the nice soft carpet, her slender frame trembling with a cocktail of emotions. She couldn¡¯t believe it¡ªRafael Vexley, the cold billionaire recluse, confessing his love? To her? A girl from the wrong side of the tracks, scraping by to keep her father breathing? Her mind reyed his words: I think I¡¯m in love with you. They wrapped around her heart like velvet chains, pulling her in two directions. On one hand, the sting of Jason¡¯s betrayal still burned fresh¡ªhis lies, his abandonment, leaving her shattered and doubting every whisper of affection. On the other, Rafael had ignited something deep within her, a me of feelings that grew hotter with each stolen nce, each heated argument. But was it love? Or just the thrill of his intensity, the way he made her feel seen amid her chaos?


    Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her from the spiral. She pulled it out, the screen glowing with two messages from Henry.


    <strong><i>"Hey, Eliana. Got home safe? Have time to talk?" </i></strong>


    <strong><i>"Or did you crash already? If so, sweet dreams." </i></strong>


    A softugh escaped her lips, lightening the heaviness in her chest. Henry¡ªreliable, uplicated Henry. She typed back quickly: "<strong><i>Yes, home safe. Sorry for the dy¡ªI was tied up with something. How about you?" </i></strong>


    They fell into an easy rhythm, texts flying back and forth like old friends catching up. Henry shared stories of his life since she disappeared: the not so good grades he gotst semester at school, the goofy dog he¡¯d adopted named Buster who chewed everything in sight. Eliana chuckled at his tales, reminiscing about their coge escapades¡ªstaying longer hours in school forte-night lessons, sharing dreams under starry skies. It wasforting, a balm to her conflicted soul, until¡ª


    A knock at her door shattered the peace. Eliana¡¯s heart leaped into her throat. "Who is it?" she called, her voice steadier than she felt.


    "It¡¯s me," Rafael¡¯s deep timbre replied, sending butterflies rioting in her stomach.


    Her pulse fluttered uncontrobly as she crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the floor. She opened the door slowly, revealing him in his wheelchair, his dark wavy hair tousled, his piercing eyes fixed on her with that veiled intensity. Without a word, he maneuvered the chair inside, the wheels humming softly against the threshold.


    Eliana closed the door behind him, leaning against it for support. "Rafael? Is something wrong?"


    He wheeled closer, his athletic build filling the space withmanding presence. His face, usually a mask of sarcasm, softened with vulnerability. "No. But I really need to tell you something important. Something that changes everything."


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 Chapter 72: The Truth

    <h4>Chapter 72: The Truth</h4>


    In the dimly lit sanctuary of Eliana¡¯s bedroom, the space around them felt smaller than ever, the shadows of themplight pooling in the corners like secrets that refused to stay hidden. Eliana Bet stood by the door, her fingers twisting at the hem of her cotton nightshirt as though the fabric could anchor her trembling hands. Her eyes stayed fixed on Rafael, wide and unsteady, a storm of questions shing in them. She thought she had imagined it all¡ªthe brush of his lips, the weight of his confession¡ªbut now, with him here in the sanctuary of her bedroom, she could barely hold herself upright.


    Rafael sat in his wheelchair just inside the threshold, every sharp line of his face carved in focus, every ounce of his being honed on her. His grey eyes¡ªthose eyes she had sworn were blind¡ªseemed to pin her in ce. The air between them grew heavy, so thick with unspoken truth that it felt like she was breathing through water.


    She cleared her throat, the sound small, almost childlike against the thundering silence. "Rafael... what is it you¡¯ve been trying to tell me? You¡¯ve got me tied in knots over here." Her lips quivered around a nervous half-smile. "You said it would change everything. Is it... is it about what you said earlier? About your feelings?"


    Her words slipped out like a fragile offering, and Rafael felt them pierce straight through the armor he had worn his entire life. His heart pounded like a drum in battle, each beat louder, more insistent. For years, he had yed the role the world demanded: the helpless man in the chair, the recluse locked away in shadow, the blind tyrant who let whispers rece truth. He had hidden his sight, hidden his strength, buried every trace of what he was beneathyers of control and deception. And yet, here she was¡ªEliana, trembling but unyielding, forcing him to consider what it would mean to finally strip himself bare.


    His palms grew damp against the worn leather of the armrests. He inhaled, steady but slow, calling on the cold discipline that had kept him alive when trust was nothing more than a knife at the throat. But this wasn¡¯t a battlefield. This was Eliana. And she was watching him with those eyes that held a fragile kind of faith he wasn¡¯t sure he deserved.


    Then, with a surge of decision, Rafael¡¯s hands shifted from gripping the armrests to bracing against them. Eliana blinked, not understanding¡ªuntil she saw the movement, saw the tension ripple through his body like a bowstring being drawn back. Her breath caught, frozen in her lungs.


    And then he rose.


    Six feet three inches of solid,manding presence unfolded before her, like a storm breaking free of its shackles. His dark, wavy hair slipped over his forehead as he straightened, shadows dancing across the nes of his face. The crisp white of his shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders, the fabric pulling in protest as though even the clothing couldn¡¯t contain him.


    Eliana gasped, her back pressing instinctively against the door. The man she had pitied, cared for, held in her arms with tenderness she thought he could never return¡ªwas now striding toward her with the controlled grace of someone who had never once belonged to a chair.


    Her lips parted, her words lost to the thunder of her heartbeat.


    And Rafael kept walking.


    Each step closed the distance, deliberate, unhurried, as though he was giving her time to breathe¡ªtime to understand. But the truth roared louder with every footfall: the man before her was no prisoner.


    "Eliana," he said, his voice low, rough, carrying the weight of a thousand locked doors finally breaking open.


    Eliana¡¯s world lurched violently, as though the floor had been ripped out from beneath her. Her honey-brown eyes flew wide, her lips parting in a gasp that refused to find sound. For weeks she had lived in the certainty of Rafael Vexley¡¯s condition¡ªthe chair, the blindness, the careful routines of a man broken by tragedy. That had been the foundation of her very presence in this house: she was here because he needed care, because he couldn¡¯t stand on his own.


    But he was standing now.


    And not just standing¡ªhe was walking, striding toward her with a power and steadiness that shook her to her core. His steel-grey eyes, once thought lifeless and unseeing, locked directly onto hers with unnerving rity. They drank her in¡ªevery line of her face, every tremor of her lips, every freckle dotting her warm brown skin¡ªas if he had been watching her all along, hidden behind the greatest lie of all.


    Her knees gave out under the crushing weight of realization. She crumpled, her body folding like a marite with its strings severed. The carpet caught her fall, soft but unyielding, the fibers pressing against her palms as her world spun in dizzy disbelief. Her mind rebelled, a chaos of questions battering her thoughts: How? Why? Who is he really?


    "Eliana!" His voice cracked with rm.


    In an instant, Rafael was there, closing the distance with effortless speed. His arms¡ªstrong, solid, terrifyingly real¡ªscooped her up as though she weighed nothing. She yelped, a startled sound slipping past her lips as her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly against the swell of muscle beneath his shirt.


    He held her to his chest, bridal style, his embrace both protective and overwhelming. The heat of him seeped through her thin nightshirt, his heartbeat pounding fast and strong against her cheek. The air was thick with his cologne¡ªspiced wood and something darker, sharper¡ªthat wrapped around her senses, dizzying her further.


    In three sure strides he carried her to the bed, lowering her onto the plushforter with deliberate care. But his hands lingered, reluctant to let her go, his fingertips grazing her arm as if afraid she might shatter.


    "Eliana," he murmured, kneeling beside the bed, his tall frame folding with unexpected gentleness. His steel-grey eyes searched her face with raw intensity, his voice a low rumble threaded with concern. "Are you hurt? Talk to me¡ªare you alright?"


    She pushed herself up on trembling elbows, her breaths shallow, uneven, each inhale scraping against the tightness in her chest. Her pulse thundered in her ears, loud enough to drown out reason. She could barely form the words, but they spilled out anyway, broken and desperate.


    "Rafael... what¡ªwhat did I just see? You stood up. You walked. And your eyes..." Her voice wavered, cracking as she searched his face for denial, for some exnation that made sense. "You¡¯re looking at me. You¡¯re really looking at me. You can see me? This whole time¡ª"


    Her voice faltered, caught between disbelief and betrayal, as if saying it out loud made the lie too heavy to bear.


    "How is this possible?" she whispered, her fingers curling into theforter to ground herself, her heart wing against her ribs.


    Rafael hesitated, his jaw clenching as he met her gaze head-on. The vulnerability in his expression was raw, a crack in the armor he had worn for so long. "Yes, Eliana. I can see you. I¡¯ve been able to see you all along. And I can walk. The paralysis... I faked it. All of it."


    Suddenly, it was like her mind reeled, fragments of memory piecing together like a shattered puzzle. Suddenly, like a jolt of electricity surging through her veins, she remembered that night¡ªthe drunken haze of vulnerability they had shared a week ago. In the dim light of his bedroom, fueled by too much wine and pent-up emotions, he had confessed it then: his ability to walk, to see. But the alcohol had blurred the edges, burying the truth in the fog of her hangover. Now, it all flooded back¡ªthe way he had risen from his chair that night, his eyes clear and intense, his words slurred but sincere. Everything clicked into ce, the lost memory igniting like a spark in dry tinder.


    "But... why?" Eliana stammered, her voice trembling as she sat up fully, pulling her knees to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of betrayal and confusion. "Why pretend to be blind and crippled? If you don¡¯t need a caregiver, why am I even here? Why hire me, why put me through all this¡ªthe arguments, the closeness, the... the everything? Is this some kind of joke, Rafael? Are youughing at me behind my back, ying games with the poor girl from the wrong side of town?"


    Rafael¡¯s face darkened, shadows tightening the sharp lines of his jaw, but his voice stayed steady¡ªa controlled rumble threaded with urgency. He moved closer, perching on the edge of the bed. The air shifted with his presence; Eliana could feel the heat radiating from him, unsettling in its intimacy.


    "No, Eliana. God, no," he said firmly, his gaze locked on hers. "This isn¡¯t a game. I would never¡ªnever¡ªtoy with you like that. Everything I¡¯ve hidden... it wasn¡¯t vanity, or cruelty. It was survival. I¡¯ve done what I had to do to stay alive in a world where everyone¡¯s waiting to sink their fangs into weakness."


    His words cut sharp, but his tone held something softer¡ªpleading, almost desperate.


    Eliana¡¯s curls bounced as she shook her head fiercely, her hands flying up, frustration spilling through every gesture. "Survival? Rafael, this doesn¡¯t make any sense! Do you realize what you¡¯re saying?" Her voice trembled, caught between disbelief and fury. "People have talked about you for years¡ªwhispers in the halls, gossip in the papers, entire myths built around your ¡¯condition.¡¯ Everyone knew: blind, paralyzed. Tragic, untouchable Rafael Vexley."


    Her breath hitched, anger colliding with hurt. "And all this time¡ªit was a lie? You built an entire life around it, around deception. Why? Why carry on such a performance?"


    Rafael reached for her then, his hand pausing midair, inches from hers. The longing was there, in his eyes, but he pulled back, as if burned by the invisible wall her shock had raised between them. He sped his hands instead, veins taut beneath the skin.


    "You¡¯re right," he admitted quietly, and that quiet almost shook her more than if he had shouted. His eyes softened, storm still swirling, but anchored now with something raw and unguarded. "I was blind. Completely. Since I was nine years old. A car ident took it all¡ªsight, light, color. For years, there was nothing but darkness. Nothing."


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, her protest dying on her tongue as his words pulled a new thread of truth.


    "But..." His voice lowered, carrying weight, every syble deliberate. "Two years ago, there was a surgery. Risky. Experimental. No promises. No guarantees. I told no one. Not family. Not doctors outside my circle. I couldn¡¯t risk it being used against me if it failed¡ªor even if it seeded. But it worked, Eliana."


    He leaned forward, the intensity in his eyes nearly unbearable. "It gave me back my sight. Piece by piece, day by day. Until I could see again."


    Her chest tightened painfully, air refusing to move.


    "And the paralysis?" she pressed, voice barely above a whisper. "The crash¡ªthe story everyone knows..."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked down, then back to hers, hard with conviction. "The crash was real. Every headline, every photograph sshed across tabloids¡ªyes, it happened. But paralysis?" He shook his head slowly. "That part was fiction. An illusion I allowed the world to believe. Because a crippled man, a blind man¡ªhe¡¯s underestimated. He¡¯s dismissed. He¡¯s pitied. And a man underestimated is a man protected."


    Eliana¡¯s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing as she searched his face for answers. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, charged with the electricity of revtions unspoken. "A surgery? Okay, fine, but even if that¡¯s true, why keep pretending you¡¯re blind? Why add the paralysis on top? What¡¯s the point of all this deception? It doesn¡¯t add up, Rafael. You¡¯re a billionaire, a CEO¡ªpowerful, untouchable. Why hide behind disabilities you don¡¯t have?"


    Rafael¡¯s gaze dropped for a moment, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the bedsheet as memories wed at him. When he looked up again, his eyes were haunted, shadows of past betrayals flickering in their depths. "Every decision I¡¯ve ever made about my real and fake disabilities... it all started with my stepmother, Mirabel."


    Eliana blinked, the name hitting her like a cold wave. Mirabel Vexley. The name alone made her pulse falter. She saw her clearly in her mind¡¯s eye¡ªthe woman of whispered power, every movement poised, every smileced with poison, a figure who moved through the halls of this estate with elegance sharpened into a weapon. Rafael¡¯s stepmother. Her mother.


    Eliana¡¯s throat tightened. Her lips parted, words tumbling out in a shaky breath. "Your stepmother? What does she have to do with any of this?" Her voice wavered, pleading now, though tinged with fear she couldn¡¯t mask. "Rafael, you¡¯re scaring me. Just¡ªplease, exin."


    He leaned closer, the distance between them copsing until his presence filled every inch of her space. His eyes locked onto hers with a raw, piercing intensity that rooted her in ce. For once, there was no mask of cold indifference, no sarcastic armor or detached calction. Just... vulnerability. A rare fracture in the unshakable man she thought she knew.


    His voice dropped low, unsteady in a way that scraped against her chest. "What I¡¯m about to tell you, Eliana¡ªabout my life, my choices¡ªit¡¯s something I¡¯ve kept buried deeper than the scars you can¡¯t see. I¡¯ve only ever shared it with two people in this world." He paused, his jaw tight, as though he was fighting himself every step of the way.


    "My brain is screaming at me right now: Don¡¯t trust her. Don¡¯t trust anyone. Keep your walls high and your circle closed. That¡¯s what¡¯s kept me alive. That¡¯s what¡¯s kept me sane." His hand curled into a fist, his knuckles brushing the quilt beside her as though anchoring him.


    "But..." His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply, fighting through it. "I¡¯m choosing to take a leap of faith with you. To believe, for once, that someone might not use my truth as a weapon against me. I¡¯m praying¡ªGod, Eliana, I¡¯m praying¡ªthat you¡¯ll prove me wrong about people. That you won¡¯t betray me like the others."


    Eliana¡¯s stomach plummeted, icy dread pooling low and heavy, dragging her down. Her breath stuttered, shallow and frantic, as though the very air had turned against her. Her mother. Her mother. The woman who had abandoned her and her ailing father without a backward nce, who had left Eliana to patch together a life from scraps and shadows. And now Rafael was telling her Mirabel was woven into his lies? Into thisbyrinth of secrets?


    The thought chilled her blood, curling through her veins like frostbite. Her heart hammered, and the room seemed to tilt, the warm glow of themp suddenly harsh, spotlighting truths she wasn¡¯t ready to face. Every corner of the room seemed too sharp, too exposed, as if the walls themselves were leaning in, listening.


    And Eliana wasn¡¯t sure if she was ready to hear it.

 Chapter 73: Vulnerability

    <h4>Chapter 73: Vulnerability</h4>


    The soft lighting from the bedsidemp painted the room in shadows. For all its luxury¡ªthe polished wood, the soft drapes, the sprawling bed¡ªthe Vexley estate bedroom felt less likefort and more like a confessional. A ce too heavy with truths that wanted out.


    Eliana sat propped against the pillows, her eyes searching his face, torn between hope and fear. Rafael sat on the edge of the mattress, tall and rigid, his frame forming a long shadow across the rug. His steel eyes¡ªusually unreadable¡ªshowed a crack tonight, something raw slipping through. The air between them felt tight, the sharp spice of his cologne mixing with thevender from her sheets until she could barely breathe.


    When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, carrying a weight she hadn¡¯t heard before.


    "Eliana... it all started when I was nine. I lost my sight in an ident that day. God, it feels like yesterday. The memories don¡¯t fade. They stalk me."


    She leaned forward slightly, her slender fingers twisting the edge of the quilt. "An ident? Rafael, what happened? Please tell me everything."


    He nodded slowly, dark waves of hair falling over his forehead as his gaze slipped away. He fixed on the Persian rug instead, its patterns easier to face than her eyes.


    "My mother came to pick me up from school. It was just another afternoon. At least, that¡¯s what I thought. But she was... different. Scared. I¡¯ll never forget how she looked behind the wheel. Her hands mped the steering wheel so tightly her hands went bone-white. And her eyes¡ªshe kept flicking them to the rearview mirror like she was expecting something to crawl out of it."


    Eliana leaned forward again, her lips parting, the ache in her chest pulling her closer to him. "Oh, Rafael... did you ask her what was wrong?"


    "Of course I did." His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, the kind that only made his pain more visible. "I was just a kid. My backpack stuffed with drawings I couldn¡¯t wait to show her. I remember bouncing in the back seat, asking, ¡¯Mama, are you okay?¡¯ with all the innocence of a nine-year-old. And she... she smiled. Or tried to. But it wasn¡¯t real¡ªit was tight, shaky, like she was holding her fear together with threads. ¡¯Just a long day, sweetie,¡¯ she told me."


    He paused, the words catching as if they still cut. "But I knew better. Even then, I knew. Something was wrong. She looked so terrified, Eliana."


    His jaw clenched, his hands curling against his knees. "On the drive home, we hit the winding roads on our way to the estate. That¡¯s when it happened. A car came out of nowhere¡ªfast, violent. It didn¡¯t just hit us, Eliana. It targeted us. mmed into the side like it meant to kill us. It forced us off the road, sent us plunging down a cliff."


    Eliana gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The image painted in her mind was vivid: the screech of tires, the jolt of impact, a child¡¯s scream echoing in the chaos. "That¡¯s horrific. Your poor mother... and you..."


    Rafael¡¯s voice cracked slightly, but he pushed on, his athletic build shifting as he leaned closer, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. "She died on the spot. Crushed in the wreckage. I woke up in the hospital dayster, bandages over my eyes, machines beeping around me like some cruel symphony. The doctors told me I¡¯d lost my sight¡ªtraumatic optic nerve damage, they called it. Permanent, or so they thought back then. I was blind, Eliana. A scared little boy in a world that went dark overnight."


    "I¡¯m so sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm. Her warm brown skin contrasted with his, and she felt the tension in his muscles, like coiled steel. Sorrow twisted in her chest, a deep, aching pity for the child he¡¯d been, alone in that ckness.


    He ced his hand over hers, a rare gesture of seekingfort, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. "It gets worse. Barely a few weeks after the funeral¡ªwhile I was still fumbling around learning Braille and bumping into furniture¡ªmy father brought home this woman. Mirabel. Sleek, ambitious, with that icy elegance that could freeze a room. Before I could even process it, they were married. A whirlwind ceremony, all champagne and shbulbs, while I sat in the corner like a forgotten relic."


    Eliana¡¯s pulse quickened at the name, a cold wave crashing over her again. Her mother. The woman who¡¯d abandoned her own family for this glittering cage. But she kept her faceposed, urging him on. "That must have felt like a betrayal. How could your father move on so fast?"


    Rafael¡¯sugh was hollow, sarcastic, cutting through the air like a de. "Betrayal? That¡¯s putting it mildly. As a child, Mirabel tried to kill me, Eliana. Several times. The closest I came to dying at her hands was when I was thirteen¡ªpoisonous tea she brewed herself, smiling sweetly as she handed it to me. ¡¯Drink up, dear, it¡¯ll help you sleep,¡¯ she cooed. If my grandfather hadn¡¯t walked in and saw me screaming in pain and immisately taking me to the hospital, I¡¯d be six feet under."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened in horror, her expressive face paling. "She... she tried to poison you? A child? Rafael, that¡¯s monstrous."


    "Oh, it didn¡¯t stop there," he continued, his tone darkening, shadows ying across his handsome features. "When direct attempts failed, she turned to isting me. Anyone who got close¡ªfriends from school, tutors, even distant rtives¡ªshe¡¯d threaten them, spread vicious rumors, make their lives hell until they ran screaming. She befriended some just to turn them against me, whispering lies in their ears. But her favorite game? Corrupting every caregiver I ever had. Bribing them, ckmailing them, whatever it took to make them try to finish me off. Pills in my food, ¡¯idental¡¯ falls down stairs¡ªyou name it."


    "Why?" Eliana breathed, her voice trembling, dread coiling in her stomach like a serpent. Sadness and agony warred on her soft, heart-shaped face, her long hair falling like a curtain as she bowed her head. How could her own mother be this much of a viin in his story?


    Rafael¡¯s eyes shed with old rage, his fist clenching on the bedsheet. "Money. Power. My father didn¡¯t give a damn about me after Mama died. He rewrote his will, making Mirabel¡¯s children¡ªmy half-siblings¡ªthe sole heirs to his fortune. Left me outpletely, like I was a mistake. But Grandfather saw through it all. Furious at his own son, he made me his sole heir instead. Everything¡ªthe tech empire, real estate, pharmaceuticals¡ªwould go to me. Mirabel was livid. She saw me as the obstacle between her kids and billions. I survived every attempt, but I never had proof. Until three years ago."

 Chapter 74: Knife’s Edge.

    <h4>Chapter 74: Knife¡¯s Edge.</h4>


    Eliana leaned in, her breath shallow, agony etching lines on her brow. "What happened three years ago? Tell me."


    Rafael let out a sharp breath, his usual strength flickering as old memories wed their way back.


    "Mirabel got to another caregiver," he said, bitterness roughening his voice. "Someone I trusted. Someone I... actually cared about. One day she drove me out, parked the car on a crowded highway, and popped the hood like nothing was wrong. ¡¯Just checking the engine, Mr. Vexley,¡¯ she said, all sweet and harmless. Then she walked away. Just left me there¡ªblind, stranded¡ªin the middle of a death trap."


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened. She could almost hear the roar of engines, feel the dizzying disorientation of sitting in pitch-ck while the world screamed past. "Rafael... you must have been terrified."


    He nodded, his eyes dark with the memory. "I waited, what felt like half an hour. I kept telling myself she¡¯de back. I had a meeting I waste for, so I sat there, trying to keep calm. But she never came. Eventually I stumbled out, calling her name, reaching for anything solid. I wandered straight into the road. And then¡ªbam. A car hit me. Sent me flying. Bones broken, body wrecked... and whatever little trust I had left? Gone."


    Eliana¡¯s hand slid into his, squeezing gently. "But you lived through it."


    "Yeah. Barely," he muttered. Then, softer: "The driver... turned out to be one of the good ones. A good Samaritan in a world full of wolves. A stranger who didn¡¯t just stop¡ªthe person carried me to the hospital, covered my bills without even leaving a name at first. The kind person wasn¡¯t done there either. Theyter came back and pushed for me to see a specialist for my eyes. And that¡¯s when I learned... medicine hade a long way since I was nine."


    His voice cracked with something close to wonder. "They ran test after test. Months of examinations, checkups, preparing me for the surgery. A yearter, it happened. I opened my eyes and¡ªfor the first time in years¡ªI saw. Colors, faces, the whole damn world just... flooding back in a blur."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes lit up with a mix of wonder and relief. "That¡¯s miraculous. But... why keep pretending?"


    Rafael¡¯s gaze intensified, pulling her into the depths of his steel-grey eyes. "That person¡ªthe one who saved me¡ªheard my story. The endless attempts on my life, Mirabel¡¯s shadow over everything. They helped me craft a n for justice. The core of it? Fake the blindness still, and add paralysis from the ¡¯ident¡¯ to sell it. Make her think her scheme almost worked, lure her into overconfidence."


    Eliana frowned, piecing it together. "How were you so sure it was Mirabel behind that caregiver?"


    "We tracked her down," Rafael said, his voice curling with a sly edge. "Me, my new friend, and James. Back then, James was nothing more than an ambitious employee at one of mypanies. After the ident, he showed up at the hospital¡ªnervous, determined¡ªpractically begging to be my secretary. ¡¯Let me protect you, sir,¡¯ he said. Eyes wide, full of sincerity. I couldn¡¯t understand it at first. Why would a stranger care so much?"


    He gave a small shrug, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "My friend ran a background check on him and to my surprise, it came out spotless. No hidden agenda, no skeletons waiting to jump out. So I let him in. And here¡¯s the thing¡ªI didn¡¯t tell him I¡¯d regained my sight, not right away. I watched him, measured him. And he surprised me. He wasn¡¯t faking it, Eliana. He really wanted to shield me from the world. To this day, I still don¡¯t know what fuels that kind of loyalty... but James has it. Loyal to a fault."


    Eliana couldn¡¯t help but smile at the story, warmth flickering through the tension. "Yes. James does seem like a genuinely good man."


    Her smile faltered as the memory of Rafael¡¯s earlier words resurfaced. She leaned in, her voice soft but weighted with dread. "And the caregiver?" she asked.


    "We tracked her down eventually," Rafael said, his tone sharp with remembered contempt. "She was holed up in some dingy motel, living like a rat in the walls. Pathetic, really. My friend¡¯s men cornered her, pressed her for answers, and she spilled everything. Said Mirabel was behind it. Promised her money if she abandoned me like that. But the irony? Mirabel never even paid her. Used her and tossed her aside."


    Eliana¡¯s breath caught, her stomach twisting in horror at the cruelty of it all. "Oh God..." she whispered, her voice trembling. Then, unable to stop herself, she asked, "Rafael... what did you do to her?"


    Rafael smirked, a dark, dangerous curve of his lips that sent a shiver down her spine. "Let¡¯s just say she¡¯s in a ce where she¡¯ll never betray or harm anyone ever again."


    Eliana gulped, her throat dry, imagining shadowy fates¡ªprison, perhaps, or worse. The room felt colder suddenly, the gravity of his world pressing in.


    In a swift motion, Rafael pulled her into his arms, his strong frame enveloping her slender one. She stiffened at first, then forced herself to rx against him, inhaling his scent. "I can¡¯t disclose the full ns for Mirabel yet," he murmured into her hair, his breath warm on her skin. "But this pretense¡ªblind and paralyzed¡ªit¡¯s getting me closer to my goal. Soon, it¡¯ll all unravel."


    He shifted, climbing onto the bed with surprising grace for a man feigning disability, then he drew her into a cuddle again. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. "I know you might not like me as much as I like you right now¡ªor maybe not at all. I¡¯ve been cold, sarcastic, a real bastard sometimes. But I promise, Eliana, I¡¯ll change. I¡¯ll be the man you can rely on, the one who deserves your trust."


    Eliana sat frozen, her mind spinning. The truth hit her like a blow¡ªher own mother, the source of his torment, the architect of every scar he carried. She looked up at Rafael, and what she saw nearly broke her: the rawness in his eyes, the kind of vulnerability he rarely let anyone glimpse.


    Guilt mmed into her chest, heavy and merciless. It felt like she¡¯d been the one to carve those wounds into him, like her bloodline itself was poison running through his veins.


    Still cradled in his arms, she couldn¡¯t breathe past the weight of it. How could she tell him? How could she confess that the woman he hated most, the woman who had destroyed him piece by piece, was her mother? That his heart was opening to the daughter of his enemy?


    Her throat burned with words she couldn¡¯t push out. Love tangled with dread, truth battling silence. All she could do was cling to him, caught in the fragile moment where their lives, their secrets, and their fates bnced on a knife¡¯s edge.

 Chapter 75: A Growing Lie

    <h4>Chapter 75: A Growing Lie</h4>


    Moonlight slipped past the heavy curtains, washing Eliana¡¯s bedroom in soft silver. The sheets were tangled around them, Rafael¡¯s arms still locked firmly around her like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go. He hadn¡¯t left after his confession, his breath warmed the side of her neck, steady andforting, but heavy too¡ªlike the weight of his confession had pinned him to her side.


    He didn¡¯t move. He just held her, his fingers brushing through her curls in slow, careful strokes, his lips close enough to whisper against her skin.


    "You¡¯re more than I ever thought I deserved, Eliana," he said, voice low and rough, each word carrying a tremor of honesty that pressed against her chest. "You¡¯re clumsy and real and brutally honest. After all the lies, the pain, everything I¡¯ve dragged myself through... having you here feels like a second chance. A breath of fresh air. And I swear, I¡¯m not letting it slip away."


    Elianay still, her body tucked into his, but her eyes stayed wide open, fixed on the ceiling. His words should have melted her, but instead, they carved into her heart, stirring a deep ache she couldn¡¯t shake. It all felt like too much, too soon. And then there was Mirabel¡ªalways Mirabel, lingering like a shadow between them.


    Her throat tightened, but she forced out a faint nod, her voiceing out in a whisper. "Rafael... it¡¯s a lot to take in. But I¡¯m here. I¡¯m listening."


    He chuckled softly, a rare sound of genuine warmth, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know. And that¡¯s why I can¡¯t stop talking now. Remember when I first ¡¯saw¡¯ you¡ªwell, pretended to? You were so kind, even when I was aplete ass. You made me want to be better. God, Eliana, you¡¯ve cracked me open like no one else."


    Eliana¡¯s chest tightened, her heart splintering under the weight of his words. He saw her as kind, as honest, as something pure he could finally hold onto. But she didn¡¯t feel like any of those things. Not really.


    Because the truth was, she wasn¡¯t different from the rest of them. She was carrying a secret¡ªone so heavy it burned at the edges of her soul every time she looked at him. A truth she hadn¡¯t found the courage to share. And the longer she kept it hidden, the more his trust in her felt like a cruel trick.


    His arms around her should have made her feel safe. Instead, they reminded her of the lie growing between them.


    As the hours ticked by, his whispers grew softer,ced with vulnerability he rarely showed. "I dream of a life without the masks. Just us, building something real. You make me believe it¡¯s possible." His hand tracedzy circles on her back, and eventually, his breathing deepened into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. But Eliana couldn¡¯t close her eyes. Her mind raced, reying his story¡ªthe betrayal, the ident, the woman who had orchestrated it all. Her mother. Mirabel.


    <i>¡¯How could she do that?¡¯ </i>Eliana thought, her stomach churning. ¡¯<i>Abandon me as a child, then destroy this man¡¯s life? And now... what if she remembers me? What if one day she looks at me and sees her daughter?</i>¡¯ The fear gripped her like icy fingers. Luck had kept her secret hidden so far¡ªMirabel hadn¡¯t recognized her that day in the living room. Probably her fury didn¡¯t let her. But luck was fickle.<i> ¡¯If Rafael knew... would he hate me? Would he have let my father die without his help?¡¯ </i>The questions swirled, relentless, keeping sleep at bay.


    She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, but his arms tightened instinctively<i>. ¡¯How long can I ride this wave of fortune?</i>¡¯ she wondered, tears pricking her eyes. One slip, and everything crumbles. He¡¯d see me as the enemy, poisoned by her blood. The night stretched on, endless and tormenting, until the first hints of dawn painted the sky. Only then, exhausted beyond measure, did Eliana¡¯s eyelids finally droop, her body surrendering to a fitful slumber.


    When Rafael stirred the next morning, sunlight spilled through the curtains, flooding the room with soft gold. He blinked against the glow, his body sinking deeper into the sheets, feeling lighter than he had in years. The weight he¡¯d carried for so long¡ªthe secrets, the walls¡ªfelt like it had finally been lifted withst night¡¯s confession.


    He turned his head and found her there. Eliana. Still asleep, her breaths slow and even, her lips parted just slightly as if she¡¯d fallen into a dream mid-sentence. Her warm brown skin carried the soft flush of sleep, and her curls framed her face in wild waves, spilling across the pillow like a halo spun from midnight.


    A smile tugged at his jaw, unshakable and real. I¡¯m the luckiest man alive, he thought, his chest tightening with something fierce and tender all at once. She¡¯s mine to protect now. No more games. No more pretending.


    For the first time in years, Rafael let himself believe in peace.


    Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his heart fluttering with an unfamiliar giddiness. It was like being a boy again, discovering joy in the simplest things.


    Eliana¡¯s eyes fluttered open, still heavy with drowsiness. She hadn¡¯t slept more than a couple of hours, and the world felt hazy around the edges.


    "Morning, beautiful," Rafael said softly, his grey eyes sparkling with affection. "You okay? You look a bit... out of it."


    She forced a small smile, rubbing her eyes. "I¡¯m fine, Rafael. Just... didn¡¯t sleep much. Thinking about everything you said."


    He pulled her closer, his athletic frame enveloping her once more. Kissing her temples, he whispered, "You look stunning even half-asleep. Like a dream I don¡¯t want to wake from."


    Eliana¡¯s heart twisted. She couldn¡¯t believe this was happening¡ªto her, of all people. A girl from nothing, wrapped in the arms of a billionaire. But the guilt gnawed at her, sharp and unrelenting, stealing any joy. How can I enjoy this when it¡¯s built on a lie? When my mother¡¯s shadow looms over us?


    After a moment, Rafael sat up, his dark wavy hair tousled in a way that made him look boyishly handsome. "Hey, how about youe to the office with me today? I want to show you around¡ªmy world, the real one."


    Eliana hesitated, her mind screaming for more sleep. The bed called to her like a sanctuary. "I... um..."


    He caught the flicker of reluctance in her eyes, the way her body hesitated even as her lips stayed quiet. His own gaze narrowed, sharp and searching, but only for a heartbeat. Then, like slipping on a mask, he curved his mouth into that easy, charming grin she knew so well.


    Inside, though, his stomach was tight. He knew what today meant¡ªMirabel¡¯s siblings wereing. The thought of leaving Eliana alone in the house with them twisted his insides. They weren¡¯t just family; they were vultures, circling, waiting for the faintest trace of weakness to tear into. He couldn¡¯t, wouldn¡¯t, risk her being their prey.


    "Come on," he said lightly, brushing a thumb across her hand as if nothing in the world was wrong. " I just can¡¯t stand being apart from you. Not even for a second. And besides..." He let out a softugh, like he was letting her in on a secret. "I made reservations at that fancy ce downtown¡ªfor Sarai and Bianca. To thank them properly for saving you from that whole kidnapping mess. I figured you¡¯d want to be there."


    His tone was yful, but underneath, the plea was real. He needed her with him¡ªnot just because he wanted her, but because the world around them was far too dangerous without his watch.

 Chapter 76: It’s Nothing

    <h4>Chapter 76: It¡¯s Nothing</h4>


    Eliana let out a long sigh, her chest heavy as memories surfaced. Sarai. Once her closest friend, the girl she trusted with everything¡ªuntil betrayal cut their bond to pieces. And then there was Jason... his kidnapping attempt still lingered like a bruise in the back of her mind, the unanswered why gnawing at her whenever she let herself think too long. Why had he sunk so low?


    So much had been happening¡ªher father¡¯s troubles, Rafael¡¯s confessions, the constant storm with her mother¡ªthat she¡¯d shoved those questions into a dark corner. But now, with Rafael looking at her and the chance dangling in front of her, closure suddenly felt like a door she wanted to open.


    "You¡¯re right," she said softly, more to herself than him. Her eyes hardened with determination as she looked up. "I do need to talk to Sarai. About all of it. Why she turned on me, why she betrayed what we had, and then¡ªwhy she came back to save me. I need to hear it from her." She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "Maybe this dinner... maybe it¡¯s finally the time for that."


    "Exactly," Rafael said, his voice enthusiastic. "I¡¯ll give you the grand tour of thepany¡ªtech floors, real estate division, even my pharmabs if you¡¯re interested. Then we¡¯ll head to dinner together. Sound good?"


    She nodded, though her body protested. She had no real choice; his excitement was infectious, and refusing felt wrong. "Okay. I¡¯lle."


    Rafael¡¯s face lit up, bright and unguarded, like a child unwrapping presents on Christmas morning. He pressed quick, yful kisses to her cheeks before springing off the bed with a fluid grace that never failed to surprise her. Crossing the room, he grabbed his wheelchair from the corner¡ªstill keeping up the pretense for the staff¡ªand slid into it with practiced ease.


    "Perfect," he said, wheeling closer, his smile so wide it softened the usualmand in his presence. "I¡¯ll get myself together. Meet me at breakfast? Dressed for the day?"


    His joy was infectious, almost boyish, and with onest grin he wheeled out, pulling the door shut behind him.


    The silence he left behind settled heavy. Eliana sank deeper into the pillows, her chest rising and falling with a deep, tired sigh. "What am I even feeling?" Exhaustion clung to her bones, guilt pressed like a stone in her stomach. And then there was love¡ªthe kind that warmed her, the kind she¡¯d never been given before, not even with Jason. But it tangled with shame. <i>¡¯I don¡¯t deserve it. Not while I¡¯m keeping this secret from him.¡¯ </i>


    Dragging herself up, she padded into the bathroom. Cold water sshed over her face, sharp against her skin. She looked into the mirror and barely recognized the reflection staring back: soft, heart-shaped features etched with worry, eyes that held too many truths unsaid.


    Back in the bedroom, she tugged open the closet. Her fingers trailed over the meager options until she pulled out the best she had¡ªa simple blouse and skirt, modest, worn at the edges. She held them against herself with a twist of nerves<i>. ¡¯I can¡¯t embarrass him. Not in his world. Not at hispany.¡¯ </i>


    The thought gnawed at her as she dressed. <i>¡¯What if I don¡¯t fit in? What if I don¡¯t belong? Do I even deserve to stand beside him at all?¡¯ </i>


    Meanwhile, in his suite, Rafael showered with a spring in his step, humming a tune under the hot spray. He dressed in a crisp designer suit, the fabric hugging his tall, athletic build perfectly. When the maids knocked, offering assistance, he waved them off. "No need today, thanks. And leave Eliana alone too¡ªI¡¯ve got this."


    In the hallway, the maids paused mid-step, trading quick, startled looks.


    "What¡¯s gotten into Mr. Vexley?" whispered the older one, a plump woman with a severe bun and sharp eyes. "His voice¡ªhe sounded... happy. Like he¡¯s just struck gold."


    The younger maid, pale and freckled, let out a quiet snicker. "Maybe it¡¯s that Eliana girl. He seems fond of her. Though I don¡¯t see why. She hardly does any real caregiving. And if he¡¯s dressing himself now... what¡¯s she even here for?"


    Their words lingered in the corridor like smoke as the morning unfolded.


    Downstairs, the dining room gleamed with wealth. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, scattering golden beams across the polished mahogany table. tters of fresh fruit, ky pastries, and carafes of steaming coffee filled the air with warm, inviting scents. James stood by the sideboard, as polished as ever in his immacte suit, his posture a portrait of loyalty and restraint.


    Eliana entered quietly, her footsteps small against the marble floor. She smoothed the modest blouse and skirt she¡¯d chosen, but it didn¡¯t change the fact that they looked worn, out of ce against the room¡¯s grandeur.


    Rafael was mid-conversation with ra when his eyes lifted to her. For a heartbeat, his smile slipped¡ªthe tiniest crack in his perfectposure. His chest tightened. She deserves better than this, he thought, a pang cutting through the warmth of his earlier joy.


    But he didn¡¯t say it aloud. Instead, his expression softened into that charming mask, and with a subtle lift of his chin, he beckoned James closer.


    "James," he said in a low voice, "get some nice clothes for Eliana. Something elegant. And for today¡ªfind her an outfit within thirty minutes. Make it perfect."


    James nodded crisply. "Of course, sir."


    Breakfast passed inpanionable chatter. Rafael teased Eliana gently about her sleepy eyes. "You sure you¡¯re up for the office? I could carry you there if needed," he joked, winking.


    Sheughed weakly. "I¡¯d like to see that¡ªMr. CEO hauling me over his shoulder."


    Afterwards, the clothes arrived quicker than he had expected, folded neatly in a box that looked very elegant. Insidey a sleek emerald dress that shimmered like liquid light, and beside it, a pair of glittering heels that caught the sun like scattered stars.


    Rafael had called her up himself. He held the box with a kind of reverence, as though it contained something rare and fragile.


    "Here," he said softly, extending it toward her. His tone wasn¡¯tmanding like before¡ªit was gentle, almost boyish. "I want you to look your best at thepany. Andter tonight, when we have dinner with Sarai and Bianca. You deserve to shine, Eliana."


    Her breath caught as her fingers brushed the fabric. The dress was smooth, expensive¡ªfar beyond anything she¡¯d ever owned. Memories pricked at her chest. After her grandfather¡¯s death, she¡¯d sold every nice dress, bag, and pair of shoes he had ever gifted her, just to keep herself and her father alive. Survival had stripped her of luxury, piece by piece, until all that remained were worn blouses and patched skirts.


    Now, here she was, holding something so fine it felt unreal in her hands.


    "Rafael... this is beautiful. And the shoes¡ªthey sparkle like stars. I don¡¯t even know how to thank you."


    He gave her that crooked, easy smile that disarmed her every time. "Just wear it," he said simply. Then, without giving her a chance to protest, he tugged her gently onto hisp, ying his role as if the wheelchair truly bound him. His lips met hers in a lingering kiss, soft at first, then deeper¡ªlike he wanted to burn the moment into both their memories.


    Her pulse skittered, her chest tightening with feelings tooplicated to name.


    Rafael pulled back, grinning like he¡¯d just stolen something priceless. "Take your time. I¡¯ll wait outside." And with that, he wheeled himself out, the door clicking shut behind him.


    Eliana clutched the dress to her chest, her heart drumming like a wild thing. Carefully, almost reverently, she slipped it on. It hugged her body in a way that felt unreal, smoothing over her curves, transforming her reflection into someone she barely recognized. The heels gave her height, power¡ªconfidence she didn¡¯t know she could wear.


    But as she turned toward the door, her body betrayed her. A violent twist rolled through her stomach.


    "Oh no..." she whispered, stumbling. Her hand mped over her mouth as bile surged up her throat.


    She bolted to the bathroom, barely making it in time before retching up her breakfast. The sounds echoed in the porcin, harsh and humiliating. Her knees trembled against the tile, her body weak, her eyes watering.


    When the wave finally passed, she sagged against the cold wall, wiping her mouth with the back of her trembling hand.


    <i>¡¯It¡¯s just exhaustion,¡¯ </i>she told herself. <i>¡¯You haven¡¯t been sleeping. You¡¯re thinking too much. It¡¯s nothing. Nothing.¡¯ </i>


    Dragging herself upright, she rinsed out her mouth, sshed cold water over her mmy face, and forced her shaking hands to smooth her hair. In the mirror, her reflection stared back¡ªelegant in the emerald dress, but pale, hollow-eyed. A woman dressed in borrowed confidence.


    Squaring her shoulders, she drew a deep breath, stered on a fragileposure, and stepped out. Ready¡ªor as ready as she could be¡ªto meet Rafael.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


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 Chapter 77: A Happy Billionaire

    <h4>Chapter 77: A Happy Billionaire</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s hand trembled slightly as she grasped the doorknob, the cool metal grounding her against the whirlwind in her chest. The emerald dress whispered against her skin with every breath, a silken promise of something she wasn¡¯t sure she deserved. She pushed the door open, stepping into the hallway where Rafael waited, his wheelchair positioned with that effortless poise that made the world seem to bend around him.


    Rafael¡¯s head turned at the soft click of the door, his eyes lifting to meet her. For a heartbeat, the air between them thickened, charged with an unspoken electricity. Then his lips curved into a grin, slow and genuine, lighting up the sharp angles of his face like dawn breaking over a stormy sea. "Eliana," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "You look... breathtaking. Like you were born to wear that."


    She felt heat bloom in her cheeks, her honey eyes flickering down to the floor before lifting back to him. "It¡¯s just a dress, Rafael. But... thank you. You make me feel like it¡¯s more." Her voice was soft,ced with that quiet vulnerability she couldn¡¯t quite hide, but there was a spark in it too¡ªa tentative joy at seeing the happiness etched into his features.


    He chuckled, the sound low and rich, echoing in the quiet hallway like it belonged to another world¡ªa sound meant only for her. Extending his hand, his eyes softened, though his smile carried that dangerous charm that always left her breathless.


    "Come here," he murmured, his voice velvet andmand all at once. "Let¡¯s get you out of this room before I decide to keep you all to myself."


    Her chest tightened, torn between nerves and a giddy rush of warmth. She slid her hand into his, her slender fingers slipping against his stronger, calloused ones. The touch anchored her, sending a current racing up her arm, as though her body recognized something her heart wasn¡¯t ready to confess. His grip was firm yet tender, his thumb sweepingzy circles against her skin¡ªan unspoken promise, a silent reassurance that the unease still knotted in her stomach didn¡¯t belong there.


    He guided her forward with a quiet confidence, wheeling beside her as though every movement had been rehearsed in a dance only he knew. The simple act of walking with him felt intimate, like stepping into a rhythm that belonged entirely to them.


    The car ride became a fragile cocoon, a pocket of calm before the storm. Morning light spilled across the city, painting the streets in pale gold and cold steel. The world outside moved quickly¡ªsoldiers gathering, banners fluttering in the distance, the restless pulse of a city bracing for the new day. But inside the car, there was only Rafael. His voice filled the space, animated and boyish in a way that disarmed her..


    "You¡¯ll love the office," he said, his tone carrying both pride and mischief. His eyes gleamed as he leaned just close enough for her to catch the warmth in them. "It¡¯s my kingdom¡ªchaos and all. But today..." his gaze lingered on her lips for the briefest of moments before sliding back to her eyes, "...today, with you there, it¡¯ll feel like home."


    The words struck her harder than she expected, making her heart stumble against her ribs. Home. No one had ever said that to her. The word tasted like honey and longing, like something she hadn¡¯t dared to dream of but secretly craved.


    Sheughed softly, trying to mask the swell of emotions rising in her chest. The sound seemed too small against the storm of feelings he stirred in her. She leaned back, willing herself to stayposed, but every time his free hand grazed her arm¡ªlight, fleeting touches that left trails of fire in their wake¡ªher resolve wavered.


    Her body betrayed her, drowsiness tugging at her eyelids, coaxing her to surrender to the gentle lull of his presence. But she fought it, forcing her gaze to stay on him, on the curve of his mouth as he spoke, on the warmth threading through every word. She wanted to hold on to the moment, to the way he made the chaos outside feel distant and unimportant.


    For the first time since her grandfather died, she wasn¡¯t thinking of survival, of consequences, of scars unseen. She was thinking of him¡ªof the way his voice wrapped around her like sunlight, of how his hand hadn¡¯t let go of hers since the hallway. And in the quiet between words, in the way his thumb still brushed her knuckles, she realized that maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªshe could find happiness with him regardless of Mirabel.


    When they arrived at Vexley Holdings, the towering ss monolith that pierced the skyline like a de, Rafael¡¯s driver pulled up to the private entrance. Eliana¡¯s breath caught as they stepped out¡ªwell, she stepped, and he maneuvered his chair with practiced grace. The lobby was a hive of polished marble and hushed efficiency, but the moment they crossed the threshold, heads turned. Whispers rippled through the air like wind through leaves.


    Rafael, the enigmatic CEO who hadn¡¯t set foot in the building with anyone but his steadfast assistant James in years, was chatting animatedly with a woman. A stunning woman in emerald silk, her arm lightly linked with his chair¡¯s armrest, herughter mingling with his. Who was she? The staff exchanged nces¡ªreceptionists pausing mid-keystroke, executives halting their strides. Normally, Rafael glided through these halls like a shadow, his expression a mask of cool detachment, James trailing like a loyal sentinel. But today? He was smiling¡ªactually smiling, his chiseled jaw softened, his dark wavy hair catching the light as he tilted his head toward her.


    "Is that... Mr. Vexley¡¯s guest?" a young intern murmured to her colleague, eyes wide behind her sses. "He looks... happy. Like, really happy."


    Across the lobby, a cluster of board assistants buzzed. "Never seen him bring anyone. Not even family. Who is she? Some new executive?"


    Eliana felt the weight of those stares like pins on her skin, her steps faltering slightly in the towering heels. Her heart pounded, a mix of thrill and terror churning in her gut. "Rafael," she whispered, leaning closer, her voice barely audible over the hum of the space. "Everyone¡¯s looking. I feel like I¡¯m on disy."


    He nced up at her, his grin unwavering, but his tone turned gentle, coaxing. "Let them look, Eliana. They¡¯re just jealous because you¡¯re with me. Focus on me¡ªonly me. The rest? They don¡¯t matter." His words wrapped around her like a warm nket, and she nodded, squeezing his hand tighter. With him, the eyes faded into a blur, and she walked taller, her natural elegance shining through the modest roots that had once made her shrink.


    The real shockwave hit when they approached the private elevator, its gleaming doors reserved for the elite. Gasps echoed faintly as the doors slid open, and Eliana stepped in beside him, the elevator whisking them skyward without a single shared nce at the crowd below. "Did you see their faces?" Rafael teased once the doors closed, hisughter bubbling up. "Priceless. You¡¯re already shaking things up, my beloved."


    She swatted his shoulder yfully, a giggle escaping despite the nausea twisting anew. "Stop it. I don¡¯t want to cause a scene on my first day visiting."


    "First day?" He arched a brow, his eyes twinkling. "This is your day. Every day with you is."


    Up on the penthouse floor, Rafael¡¯s office was a sanctuary of dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sprawling city, and minimalist luxury that screamed power. He wheeled in first, gesturing to the expansive desk piled with reports. "Make yourselffortable," he said, but before she could settle into a chair, he patted hisp with a mischievous wink. "Or better yet, right here."


    <strong><i>To be continued...</i></strong>

 Chapter 78: The Uncle

    <h4>Chapter 78: The Uncle</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened, a flush creeping up her neck. "Rafael! What if someone walks in? This is your office, not... not your bedroom." But her protest was half-hearted,ced with delight at the sheer joy radiating from him¡ªthe way his broad shoulders rxed, his athletic frame leaning back invitingly.


    "Come on," he coaxed, his voice dipping into that husky register that always unraveled her defenses. "Just for a minute. I promise to behave. Mostly."


    She arched a brow, fighting a smile, but the warmth in his eyes pulled her in. With a theatrical sigh and a yful roll of her eyes, she gave in, sliding onto hisp. His arms immediately wrapped around her, strong and steady, as though they had been waiting for this moment all morning.


    The world outside blurred into insignificance. Against his chest, she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, grounding her as she let her head rest on his shoulder. His scent¡ªcrisp, woody, tinged with something spicy¡ªwrapped around her, easing thest of her unease. For a fleeting second, the gnawing worry in her stomach loosened its grip.


    Seeing him like this¡ªunguarded, grinning like a boy,ughter sparking in his eyes¡ªmade her chest tighten with a fierce, protective love. She wanted to bottle this version of him, keep it safe from the weight of betrayals, battles, and blood.


    "You¡¯re impossible," she whispered, her voice a mix of fondness and surrender. Yet her hand betrayed her, tracing slow, absent patterns across his chest, fingers lingering as though they needed the reminder of his warmth.


    He tilted his head, lips brushing the crown of her hair, and whispered back, "Impossible for anyone else, maybe. But not for you."


    He pressed a kiss to her temple. "And you¡¯re perfect. Now, let¡¯s get you something to eat. You must be starving after that staring ordeal at the lobby." He buzzed the inte, his tone shifting to authoritative ease. "Remi, have snacks brought up¡ªfruit, pastries, whatever¡¯s light. And coffee for me."


    Minutester, the door opened, and Remi¡ªRafael¡¯s second secretary, a sharp-eyed woman in her thirties with a no-nonsense bob¡ªentered with a tray. She set it down without a word, her gaze flickering curiously over Eliana but professionally nk. "Anything else, sir?"


    "That¡¯s all for now," Rafael replied dismissively, already waving her out. As the door clicked shut, Eliana eyed the spread: fresh berries glistening like jewels, ky croissants, a pitcher of juice. But the sight turned her stomach, a fresh wave of nausea rising like a tide. She picked at a strawberry, forcing a smile. "Looks delicious. Thank you."


    But she couldn¡¯t eat. The vors blurred on her tongue, and exhaustion crashed over her like a fog. Her eyelids drooped, her body sagging against him. "Rafael," she yawned, "I¡¯m so tired. Is there... somewhere I can rest?"


    His expression softened, concern etching lines around his eyes. He nodded toward the far corner of the office, a private alcove shielded by frosted ss and a plush daybed¡ªhis own hidden retreat for long nights. "Right there. It¡¯s for me, but today, it¡¯s yours. Sleep, Eliana. I¡¯ll be right here."


    She protested weakly¡ª"But your work..."¡ªbut he was already wheeling them over, helping her settle onto the soft linens. The blind drew partially, offering privacy while allowing slivers of light. "Shh," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Rest. I¡¯ve got everything under control."


    As sleep tugged at her, the steady hum of the office filled the background¡ªprinters whirring, muted phone rings, the soft shuffle of papers. The rhythm almost felt like a luby.


    James was the first to appear, pushing the door open with the same precision he brought to everything. His wire-rimmed sses caught the light, tablet bnced in his hand, already scrolling through numbers and charts. He spoke in low, measured tones about quarterly reports, his voice carrying that blend of monotony and quiet authority only James could manage.


    Rafael was closer¡ªtoo close for anyone else, but somehow, it felt right. His chair had been drawn near, and his fingertips asionally grazed the curls at her temple, like he couldn¡¯t help himself. It was a small thing, fleeting and almost idental, yet deliberate in the way it lingered.


    Remi swept in and out like a storm contained in heels, her steps quick, her arms stacked with files. Still, her eyes betrayed her. Each time she nced at Eliana, curiosity shed sharp and unhidden, like a question she dared not voice: <i>Who is this woman who can hold the boss¡¯s attention so easily?</i>


    But the room itself answered for her. No one asked. No one whispered. The air had shifted, dense with something unspoken, as if Eliana¡¯s very presence had drawn a veil over the office¡ªa quiet enchantment, fragile and undeniable.


    Hours slipped by in that drowsy haze. Rafael¡¯s hand continued its gentle rhythm on her hair, a soothing anchor. Then, James¡¯s voice cut through, urgent. "Sir, there¡¯s trouble downstairs. Mirabel¡¯s brother, Victor¡ªhe¡¯s making a scene in the lobby. Demanding to see you. Security¡¯s holding him, but he¡¯s loud."


    Rafael¡¯s hand stilled, his jaw clenching like iron. The warmth in his eyes iced over, a storm brewing. "Victor? What the hell does that snake want now?" His voice was a growl,ced with barely contained fury.


    Eliana¡¯s eyes fluttered open at the shift in his tone, but she kept them closed, her breathing steady. Mirabel¡¯s brother¡ªher uncle? The word sent a jolt through her. Her mother had vanished when she was five, leaving only faded photos and unanswered questions. Rtives? None she¡¯d known. But now, here he was, crashing into her world. She needed to see him, to gauge the man tied to the woman who¡¯d abandoned her. Heart racing, she cracked her lids just enough, the blind¡¯s gap offering a veiled view. She wouldn¡¯t let Rafael know; he was already tense, his focus razor-sharp. Distracting him now would only make it worse.


    "Bring him up," Rafael ordered James, his voice steel. "My office. Now."


    James nodded and exited swiftly. Rafael lingered a moment, his fingers trailing onest time over her hair before he wheeled back to his desk, positioning himself like a king on his throne. The air thickened with anticipation, the cityscape outside a silent witness.


    Minutes stretched like taut wire. Then the door burst open, James ushering in a man who filled the space with arrogance. Victor was tall and lean, his frame wiry under an ill-fitting suit that screamed faded opulence. His face was sharp¡ªhawkish nose, thin lips curled in disdain, eyes darting like a predator¡¯s. He carried himself with the swagger of someone who believed the world owed him.


    "Well, well," Victor drawled, his voice dripping condescension as he approached Rafael¡¯s desk. He leaned forward slightly, as if addressing a child rather than a titan. "If it isn¡¯t the invalid himself. Still ying the part, nephew? Touching." Without invitation, he dropped into the chair opposite, crossing his legs with entitled ease. "I¡¯ve got something important to discuss. Family business, you might say. And it can¡¯t wait."


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 Chapter 79: Shadows of the Past

    <h4>Chapter 79: Shadows of the Past</h4>


    Rafael¡¯s fingers curled hard around the armrests, the leather groaning under the pressure, but his face never wavered. He woreposure like armor¡ªcold, unyielding, almost inhuman. The office, once a cocoon of quiet refuge, now throbbed with tension. Even the air seemed hostile, clotted with the stench of Victor¡¯s cologne¡ªcheap, pungent, and choking.


    From behind the blinds, Eliana froze. Her chest rose shallowly, lungs refusing a full breath. Her heart hammered so violently she was certain the sound would give her away. That man¡ªher uncle by blood but never had she known she even had one¡ªsat just feet away, dripping arrogance like poison. He was a living reminder of everything she¡¯d been forced to survive: neglect, abandonment, the scars no one ever asked her about.


    "Family business," Rafael echoed, each word dipped in sarcasm sharp enough to draw blood. He leaned back in his chair, deliberate and slow, tilting his head toward a fixed point beyond Victor¡¯s shoulder. The performance of blindness was wless, his sightless stare piercing all the same. "How quaint. I don¡¯t recall you or your sister ever dropping by for tea. So tell me¡ªwhat¡¯s the y this time? Another attempt to drain the Vexley coffers dry?"


    Victor¡¯sugh cracked through the room like a whip¡ªshort, humorless, cruel. He shifted, fingers steepling as though he held a sermon over the weak. "Always so theatrical, Rafael. As if I need your scraps. No¡ªthis is bigger." His voice dropped, heavy with false importance. "Your father¡¯s been sniffing around the pharmaceutical division. Irregrities, he called them. Whispers of insider trading, maybe? Or those experimental trials you¡¯ve been running in the dark. He sits on the board, remember. And family¡ª" his lips twitched into a grin that never reached his eyes, "looks out for family."


    Eliana¡¯s stomach twisted, not just from the nausea that had be her unweepanion, but from the venom in his words. Irregrities? The word gnawed at her. Rafael¡¯s empire was brilliance forged in steel, but there were shadows in every corner, secrets tangled with Mirabel¡¯s reach. She shifted on the daybed, the silk of her dress sighing faintly, and then went still again. Victor¡¯s eyes swept the room, cold and calcting, the same hollow chill she remembered from old photos of her mother. He paused at the untouched snack tray, his mouth curling. "Entertaining guests, Rafael? Or is that for the nurses these days?"


    A muscle jumped along Rafael¡¯s jaw, betraying the strike, but his voice remained razor-thin, a sardonic smileced into every syble. "Jealousy isn¡¯t a good look on you, Victor. If my father has doubts about how I run this empire, let him face me directly. But you?" His smile sharpened into something crueler. "You¡¯re nothing but his errand boy. So spare me the theatrics and spit it out¡ªwhat do you really want?"


    From where she sat, Eliana caught it¡ªthe twitch in Victor¡¯s jaw, the fleeting crack in his polished arrogance. For a heartbeat, the mask slipped, and desperation leaked through like water from a fractured dam.


    He leaned in, too close, his voice dropping to a hiss meant only for Rafael. "Money, of course. A loan¡ªcall it an investment, if that makes it easier to swallow." His lips curved, but the smile never reached his eyes. "I¡¯m not Mirabel or Charles, wing at your empire for scraps of control. No, I need something simpler. Capital. Enough to quiet certain... personal debts."


    Victor¡¯s gaze hardened, sharp as a knife. "You owe me, Rafael. Don¡¯t forget that. Your father married my sister, only to dump an invalid child in herp and rxed, leaving her to clean up your mess. If I hadn¡¯t allowed that marriage, if I hadn¡¯t sacrificed my own pride, you would have grown up motherless." His words dripped with venom, each one sharpened to wound. "So, yes, you should be grateful. Very grateful."


    The instant those words left Victor¡¯s mouth, Rafael¡¯sposure faltered. Not in an explosion of rage, but in a slow, suffocating unraveling, like silk tearing under strain. His fingers, which had been drumming a calm, measured rhythm against the polished desk, froze. A vein throbbed at his temple. His jaw locked, sculpting his face into something lean and dangerous, almost predatory.


    He leaned forward, only slightly, but the shift changed everything. The room contracted, the air itself thickening as his voice slipped out¡ªlow, contained, yet vibrating with a fury so potent it felt alive.


    "Grateful?" The word was acid on his tongue, bitter and burning. He let it stretch into silence, the pause as sharp as any ss. "You have the audacity to sit in my office and demand gratitude? After everything you did, after all these years¡ªyou still think you can waltz in here and bend history until it tters your greed?"


    Victor tilted his head, the smirk curling his mouth smug and practiced. But for the briefest heartbeat, his eyes betrayed him¡ªa flicker, a fracture. Then it was gone, buried under his mask of nonchnce. He reclined, one leg crossing over the other, his voice dripping disdain as he leaned back into the chair like he owned it.


    "Oh,e now, Rafael. Don¡¯t y the victim card." His words oozed condescension, each syble meant to sting. "You were a pathetic little invalid then, just as you are now¡ªblind, pitiful, discarded by your own blood. If not for my sister marrying your father, you¡¯d have rotted in some institution, forgotten like yesterday¡¯s trash. She gave you family. She gave you stability." He pressed a hand against his chest, feigning martyrdom. "And me? I endured it. I sacrificed my pride for that union. Do you have any idea what it¡¯s like to have people whisper about my blind step-nephew? The humiliation? The degradation?"


    His smirk deepened, poisonous. "You owe us, Rafael. Every breath you take in this empire of yours¡ªyou owe."


    From her hidden corner, Eliana Bety motionless on the daybed, her slender frame curled beneath the throw Rafael had tucked over her earlier. Through the sliver of space between the blinds, her eyes¡ªwide with shock¡ªcaptured every detail: the hatred carved into Rafael¡¯s face, the twitch of his brow, the fists clenched so tightly beneath the desk his knuckles whitened. He was a storm contained, dark and gathering strength, while Victor lounged in oblivious arrogance, sipping leisurely from the ss of water meant for Rafael, as if this were nothing more than a casual chat.


    When Rafael spoke again, his voice dropped lower, deliberate, each syble precise. But beneath the control, fury swirled like a tempest threatening to break.


    "Tolerated me? Is that the story you¡¯ve convinced yourself of, Victor? When I was a child, broken and grieving, you didn¡¯t lift me up¡ªyou mocked me. You whispered poison into my father¡¯s ear. You treated me like a curse, a weight to be carried. I endured it because I had no choice. But those days are gone. I expanded myte grandfather¡¯s empire out of the ashes you and your kind tried to bury me in. And you dare speak of Mirabel as though she were some saintly mother figure?"


    Victor¡¯sughter exploded, harsh and barking, ricocheting off the walls. It carried no warmth, only cruelty. He pped his knee with mock amusement, shaking his head as though Rafael were still that boy he once tormented.


    "Hate her all you want, boy. It changes nothing. She¡¯s my sister¡ªyour stepmother. That makes me your step-uncle, whether you like it or not. Blood ties bind tighter than any empire. You can¡¯t touch me. What will you do? Throw one of your famous tantrums? Call in your guards like the spoiled little heir you¡¯ve always been?" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. "Mark my words, Rafael¡ªthe empire you cling to will slip from your grasp sooner than you think."


    Eliana¡¯s pulse thundered in her chest, her breaths shallow and ragged. She pressed trembling fingers against her lips to muffle the sound, fear and disbelief tangling inside her. And Rafael¡ªoh, how he changed before her eyes. The cold calction softened for the briefest heartbeat, revealing the scarred boy buried beneath the empire¡¯s steel. But then, just as quickly, the vulnerability vanished. His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk, dark as the storm tightening around him.


    Without a word, his hand slid beneath the desk. His fingers pressed the hidden button. The faint click echoed like a gunshot in the silence, and Eliana¡¯s spine prickled with dread.


    The office doors swung open. James entered first, his presence calm and deliberate, followed by two hulking men in ck suits, their faces unreadable stone. The atmosphere shifted instantly¡ªthis was no longer an office. It was a cage.


    Victor¡¯s grin dissolved. His eyes widened, his body jerking upright from his chair. "What the hell is this, Rafael? Some kind of joke?"


    Eliana¡¯s own shock mirrored his. Her body went rigid, her thoughts scrambled. This wasn¡¯t the man who held her gently minutes ago, who whispered tenderness into her scars. This was someone else entirely¡ªthe recluse, the puppet master, the man who pulled invisible strings and bent them to his will.


    Rafael didn¡¯t stutter, didn¡¯t hesitate. His voice was ice-cold,manding, as he addressed the men without breaking his feigned blind gaze from Victor.


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    "Make him disappear. For a long time. And make sure nothing¡ªnothing¡ªtraces back to me. I want it clean."


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 Chapter 80: A Death Wish

    <h4>Chapter 80: A Death Wish</h4>


    Victor¡¯s face drained of color, his arrogance shattering like ss. He shot to his feet, knocking over his ss in the process, water spilling across the Persian rug in a dark stain. "What are you doing? You can¡¯t¡ªRafael, stop this madness! People saw mee in here! The receptionist, the guards¡ª they¡¯ll know! You think you can just erase me?"


    Rafael¡¯sughter was soft, almost melodic, but it carried a chilling edge that made Eliana¡¯s skin prickle. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, his smirk deepening. "Oh, Victor, you underestimate me. Always have. Don¡¯t worry¡ªI¡¯ve got it handled. Cameras? Looped. Witnesses? Distracted or paid off. This isn¡¯t my first dance with shadows like you."


    Victor lunged forward, his voice rising to a frantic scream. "You bastard! You can¡¯t do this! Mirabel will¡ª"


    But the words were cut short as the two hefty men moved with surprising speed, grabbing Victor by the arms. He thrashed wildly, kicking at the desk and sending papers fluttering like startled birds. "Let go! Help! Someone¡ª"


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    One of the men yanked off Victor¡¯s sock with a grunt, stuffing it into his mouth to muffle the screams into guttural, desperate grunts. Victor¡¯s eyes bulged, wild with terror, as they dragged him toward the door, his heels scraping futilely against the floor.


    Eliana sat frozen in her hidden nook, a whirlwind of shock, fear, and confusion crashing over her. Her hands trembled; she couldn¡¯t process it¡ªthe violence, the cold efficiency. Was this the man who sweetly confessed his love for herst night? The one who¡¯d pulled her father from death¡¯s grip when she thought his life was over? Or was this the darkness he¡¯d hidden, the scars from a family that had tried to destroy him?


    Rafael turned to James, his voice calm as if discussing the weather. "Make sure no one sees them. Use the service elevator¡ªroute it through the back. And James? Discretion above all."


    James nodded curtly, his face betraying no emotion. "Understood, sir." With that, he followed the men out, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving an eerie silence in their wake.


    Rafael exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark wavy hair. He rose from his desk, his tall frame moving with predatory grace toward the corner where Elianay. She quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep, her heart still racing like a trapped animal.


    He knelt beside the daybed, his presence warm and close. Gently, he brushed a curl from her forehead, his touch feather-light. Leaning in, he pressed a sweet kiss to her skin, lingering for a moment. "I¡¯m sorry for the noise, my love," he murmured, his voice shifting seamlessly to the tender tone reserved only for her. "It was just some... business. Go back to sleep. I¡¯ll wake you in an hour and a half¡ªwe have that dinner with Sarai and Bianca. Rest now."


    Eliana could only nod slowly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his. Words failed her; shock clung to her like a second skin. Who was this man, truly? And what was he truly capable of doing?


    The silence that followed Victor¡¯s removal was deafening, a void that swallowed the office whole. Elianay there on the daybed, her body still as a statue, but her mind a tempest of swirling thoughts. The floral throw nket felt heavy against her warm brown skin, and the faint scent of Rafael¡¯s cologne lingered in the air like a ghost. She kept her breathing even, pretending to drift back into slumber, but every nerve ending screamed with the echoes of what she¡¯d witnessed. How could the man who kissed her so sweetly orchestrate such cold ruthlessness? Her brown eyes remained slits, watching as Rafael returned to his desk, his athletic build moving with the confidence of someone who¡¯d just swatted away a fly.


    Rafael settled back into his chair, but the facade of calm didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. He rubbed his temples, a rare sign of vulnerability cracking through. "Damn him," he muttered to himself, voice only but a whisper. But then, as if sensing her unrest, he nced toward her hiding spot. "Eliana? Are you truly asleep, or did that ruckus wake you more than you¡¯re letting on?"


    Her heart skipped a beat¡ªtoo sharp, too sudden to ignore. She couldn¡¯t keep pretending forever. Slowly, she stirred, forcing her body into the motion of waking. A soft, deliberate yawn slipped past her lips, her long, ck curls tumbling over her shoulders in waves, falling like a protective curtain she wasn¡¯t quite ready to push aside. The dress she worefortable yet elegant, stitched from fabric that seemed made to tter her¡ªshifted with a quiet rustle as she sat up straighter.


    "Rafael?" Her voice cracked with sleep, but the unease in it was real. "What... what happened? I heard voices. Loud ones. It sounded like an argument."


    He paused mid-stride, then moved toward her again, each step deliberate, the sound of his designer suit whispering against itself with every motion. His presence filled the room before he even reached her. Finally, he dropped to one knee beside her, his height folding down so he could meet her where she sat.


    When his hand found hers, warm and steady, her breath hitched. His gray eyes¡ªclear now, sharp, no longer hiding behind that practiced cloudiness¡ªlocked onto her face, reading her like an open book.


    "It was nothing you need to worry about, my dear," he said, his voice low, buttery but edged with something unspoken. "Just an unwee visitor from the past. ¡¯Family business,¡¯ as they call it." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, though the tension in his jaw betrayed him. "But it¡¯s handled now."


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, her expressive eyes betraying the turmoil within. She squeezed his hand, her voice soft butced with emotion. "Family? Rafael, that didn¡¯t sound like family. It sounded like... hatred. Who was that man? And the screams¡ªI heard screams. What did you do?"


    He sighed, a deep, resonant sound that carried the weight of years of buried pain. His thumb traced circles on her palm, a soothing gesture that contrasted the storm in his soul. "His name is Victor. Mirabel¡¯s brother¡ªmy step-uncle, if you can believe such ties. He¡¯s always been a leech, sucking at the edges of my empire, demanding what he thinks he¡¯s owed. Today, he pushed too far. Reminded me of old wounds, the kind that never fully heal."


    She leaned closer, her heart-shaped face just inches from his, her voice trembling as fear tangled with empathy. "Old wounds? What did he do to you? You¡¯ve told me about the ident... about Mirabel. But there¡¯s more, isn¡¯t there? The way you spoke to him¡ªit was like you were unraveling a lifetime of betrayal."


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, the muscles ticking as though the memories themselves were lodged in his throat. Yet he didn¡¯t retreat. Instead, he reached up and cupped her cheek, his hand warm and steady against her skin.


    "Yes. More." His voice dropped, low and rough, as if it scraped through broken ss to escape. "So much more. Mirabel, Victor, Lydia¡ªthey circled me like sharks, always waiting to carve up what wasn¡¯t theirs. Victor mocked me, bullied me when I was helpless, called me weak, useless. And Mirabel..." His lips curled, his eyes darkening. "She pretended in front of everyone to be the doting stepmother, all honey andfort, but behind closed doors I paid the price of her smiles. Everything she did was for power, for money. And Victor? Even if he neverid a hand on me, the fact that he¡¯s her brother is enough. Enough reason for me to hate him and everything he represents."


    Eliana¡¯s breath caught. Tears shimmered at the edges of her eyes, blurring the sharp lines of his face. The hatred in his tone was suffocating, pressing into her chest until she struggled to breathe.<i> If he could hate Victor this much simply for sharing blood with Mirabel... what would he do to her when he discovered the truth? That she was Mirabel¡¯s daughter, born of the very womb he despised?</i>


    Her hand trembled as sheid it over his, her voice cracking with emotion. "I¡¯m so sorry you endured all that. You didn¡¯t deserve any of it. But today¡ªwhat happened to him?" Her throat tightened, the image of Victor¡¯s gagged figure shing before her. "Those men... you said, ¡¯make him disappear.¡¯ Did you... hurt him?"


    Rafael¡¯s arms wrapped around her before the panic could consume her. He pulled her against his chest, his strong frame folding over her slender body like armor. His chin rested against her hair, his aftershave mingling with her floral perfume, wrapping them in a cocoon that smelled of warmth and danger all at once.


    "Not hurt, no. Not in the way you fear," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise edged with iron. "Disappear means exile. Far away, where he can¡¯t poison our lives. A private jet to a forgotten corner of the world, with strings tied so tightly he won¡¯t untangle them for years¡ªif ever. I won¡¯t let him touch us, Eliana. You¡¯ve brought light back into my life. I won¡¯t let shadows like him dim it."


    Her heart twisted at his words, dread and devotion colliding in her chest until she felt hollow. She eased back slightly, needing space, her eyes scanning his face as though the truth might be carved there. The smile she forced¡ªa flimsy shield¡ªtrembled, faltering under the weight of her fear.


    "But the violence¡ªthe gagging, the dragging..." Her voice cracked, the words slipping out raw before she could rein them in. Her throat burned with the honesty she¡¯d tried to swallow. "It scared me, Rafael. I¡¯m not na?ve; I know your world isn¡¯t gentle. Ruthless, yes¡ªI¡¯ve epted that. But watching it unfold with my own eyes..." She shook her head, her fingers curling against his sleeve as though clinging to him could anchor her. "It makes me wonder if I truly know you."


    Her chest rose and fell too quickly, the plea breaking free now, soft and trembling. "I just don¡¯t want you carrying blood on your hands. Not for anything. Tell me the truth, Rafael¡ªare you sure he¡¯s not going to be killed?"


    For the first time, the sharp edge in his gaze softened. The calcting billionaire melted away, leaving behind the lonely man beneath the armor. He pressed his lips gently to her forehead, then lingered against her mouth in a kiss full of unspoken promises.


    "I trust you more than anyone, my love," he whispered against her lips. "And as long as you don¡¯t betray me, you will always be safe with me. Whether you love me as much as I love you or not¡ªyou¡¯ll be safe. You¡¯ll be happy. That I swear. Now rest. Dinner awaits, and Sarai and Bianca will start wondering if we¡¯ve vanished." His thumb brushed her cheek, tender where his words were not. "Let me handle the shadows. You¡ªyou bring the light."


    As she sank back slowly, her head resting against the pillows, the storm within her refused to quiet. Shock gnawed at the edges of her mind like relentless waves, but beneath the turmoil, something else began to take shape¡ªa quiet, stubborn resolve that refused to die.


    Wrapped in Rafael Vexley¡¯s embrace, she felt both sheltered and trapped. His arms were strong, protective, a fortress she could so easily get lost in. Yet against that warmth pressed the cold bite of chains¡ªchains forged from the secret she carried, one she could never let slip.


    Every breath beside him felt like walking a tightrope between love and destruction. Because being near Rafael Vexley while hiding a truth like hers... wasn¡¯t just reckless. It was a death wish.


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 Chapter 81: Shadows at the Table

    <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 Lumi¨¨re¡ªan 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 Lumi¨¨re¡¯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¡ªthat 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¡ªthey¡¯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¡ªher 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¡ªa 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¡ªstick 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¡ªthe 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¡ªsmooth,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¡ªwhat 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¡ªit¡¯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¡ª" 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¡ªjust 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¡ªit 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¡ªtruly."


    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¡ªevery gesture, every protection¡ªit¡¯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¡ªa discreet plea for her to refuse. "Eliana, perhaps¡ª"


    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.

 Chapter 82: Whispers of Deception

    <h4>Chapter 82: Whispers of Deception</h4>


    The tension at the table hung like a storm cloud about to break, heavy and electric. Unspoken words crackled in the air as Rafael sat in silence, processing Bianca¡¯s carefully chosen words. His fingers drummed once, twice, against the white tablecloth¡ªa rare tell, a slip betraying the fury coiling beneath his controlled exterior.


    But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm. Too calm. A de sheathed, but sharp enough to cut. "Jason, you say? And Eliana knows this?" His head tilted slightly, grey eyes hidden behind the practiced haze of feigned blindness. "Tell me more, Bianca. Why do you think we¡¯ve let it slide?"


    Bianca leaned forward, closing the distance with a grace that was all calction. Her manicured nails traced the rim of her wine ss, the soft chime deliberate, a punctuation to her performance. The glow of the chandelier kissed her light brown skin, while the expensive perfume she wore¡ªliliesced with something darker, more ambitious¡ªthickened the air between them.


    She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as if the crystal walls themselves might lean in to catch her words. "Oh, Mr. Rafael, it¡¯s such a mess. Jason¡ªhe¡¯s always been obsessed with Eliana ever since we were kids, you know. From what I¡¯ve heard, he orchestrated the whole thing out of jealousy of your rtionship with Eliana. And Eliana..." She paused, letting hershes flutter just so. "Well, she¡¯s too kind-hearted to press charges, I suppose. Or maybe¡ªmaybe she¡¯s still in love with him. After all, they¡¯ve known each other almost all their lives. But you?" Her lips curved, the faintest suggestion of a smile. "I thought you¡¯d be the type to handle it swiftly. Protect what¡¯s yours."


    Her words slid across the table like poisoned honey.


    Rafael¡¯s eyes narrowed¡ªnot enough for most to notice, but Bianca wasn¡¯t most. She would see it, the slight break in his mask. She was no fool. He could taste the game in every inflection, see it in the flicker of her green eyes: calcted innocence, a dangerous performance. She was stoking embers, feeding doubt, hoping to drive a wedge between him and Eliana.


    He knew her type. He¡¯d built his empire by outmaneuvering maniptors like her, by turning traps into weapons. And yet, even knowing the script, even recognizing the theater, something inside him recoiled.


    Because the possibility she dangled¡ªEliana¡¯s silence¡ªfelt like a de pressing against his ribs.


    If Eliana truly knew Jason had orchestrated the kidnapping... why hadn¡¯t she told him? Was she shielding that worthless ex of hers from thew? Or worse¡ªshielding Jason from him? As though Rafael were some uncontroble beast she had to protect others from.


    The thought tore at him, sharp and unrelenting. Her silence, whether born ofpassion or some lingering affection, cut deeper than betrayal. It was vulnerability, raw and unmasked. He, Rafael¡ªthe billionaire recluse who pretended at blindness and frailty to lure out greed and weakness in others¡ªwas suddenly the one exposed. It was a feeling he hadn¡¯t endured since the second car crash that had scarred him, body and soul.


    He forced the ache down, burying it under iron control. His jaw set, the muscle ticking once. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned back, tall frame creating a shadow across the intimate table. When he finally spoke, his words were cold enough to still the air between them.


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    "How are you so sure, Bianca?" His voice was silk stretched over steel. "That Jason was the one who kidnapped Eliana? That she knows about it?" His head angled just slightly, the weight of his presence bearing down on her. "You¡¯re speaking with a lot of certainty."


    Bianca¡¯s expression remained the picture of innocent confusion, her sharp green eyes widening just enough to sell the act, her glossy ck hair catching the light as she tilted her head sympathetically. She ced a hand over her heart, as if the very question pained her, her voice trembling with feigned sincerity. "Mr. Rafael, I wouldn¡¯t say it if I wasn¡¯t sure. Eliana herself told us¡ªme and Sarai¡ªwhen we were rescuing her. She was terrified, poor thing, tied up and gagged, but she heard the kidnappers whispering. They said it outright¡ªthat they were waiting on Jason for their next move." Bianca leaned in, the words sharper now, every syble meant to cut. "And Sarai... oh, Sarai sealed it. She confirmed it to Eliana right there, admitted she¡¯d overheard Jasonying out his ns earlier. No rumors. No whispers. She heard him. He¡¯s been obsessed with Eliana for weeks, ranting about how she belonged to him, especially after you came into the picture. Sarai acted fast, thank goodness¡ªshe couldn¡¯t let her best friend suffer like that. We rushed to the kidnapping site and got her out before things got worse."


    Rafael¡¯s mind raced, piecing together the fragments like a puzzle he¡¯d thought he already solved. His earlier conversations with Eliana reyed in his head¡ªher evasive answers when he¡¯d pressed about the kidnappers, her insistence that she didn¡¯t know who was behind it. Lies? Or omissions to shield him? The anger simmered, a bitter taste on his tongue, but he probed further, his voice steady despite the storm inside. "And why hasn¡¯t Sarai pushed for justice? If she knew, if she overheard... why let Jason walk free?"


    Bianca sighed dramatically, her fingers twisting a napkin in herp as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a hushed toneced with faux regret. "That¡¯s the heartbreaking part, Mr. Rafael. Sarai would never want to see Jason behind bars. She and Eliana... they¡¯re both in love with him, you know? It¡¯s like a fog over their minds¡ªthey can¡¯t see straight. Jason¡¯s charming on the surface, but he¡¯s poison. I¡¯ve tried to tell Sarai a hundred times, but love makes fools of us all. Eliana¡¯s the same; she¡¯s too loyal, too forgiving. I¡¯ve been hoping¡ªpraying, really¡ªthat she¡¯d tell you the truth. You¡¯re strong, decisive. You could get Jason out of their lives once and for all. If it were up to me, if I had the power to press charges... I¡¯d have done it ages ago. Just to free Sarai from his grip, so she could think clearly for once. She¡¯s my sister, after all. I hate seeing her tangled with a mess like Jason."


    Her face was so genuine, etched with lines of concern that crinkled the corners of her eyes, her full lips pressed into a sympathetic pout. Rafael studied her intently, searching for the crack in the facade¡ªthe telltale flicker of deceit. But Bianca was a master performer, her elegant features betraying nothing but earnest worry. It was infuriating; he couldn¡¯t tell if she was faking it or if, in some twisted way, she believed her own lies. The uncertainty gnawed at him, fueling the anger he fought to contain. He straightened his crisp designer suit, the fabric whispering against his athletic build, and responded with measured calm, his sarcastic edge creeping back in like a shadow. "I¡¯m not idle about this, Bianca. My investigations are ongoing. Rest assured, justice will be served¡ªon my terms."


    Bianca¡¯s jaw tightened subtly, a micro-expression that vanished as quickly as it appeared. She had expected fireworks¡ªa explosive reaction, Rafael¡¯s fury turning on Eliana like a weapon. Instead, he sat there,posed and unyielding, his piercing eyes (though she believed them sightless) giving nothing away. Was he so hopelessly in love with Eliana that he¡¯d forgive her lies, her possible lingering feelings for Jason? The thought made her stomach twist with envy and frustration. She forced a smile, nodding as if in agreement, but inside, her mind whirred with new schemes. "Of course, Mr. Rafael. I trust you¡¯ll handle it. For Eliana¡¯s sake."


    Meanwhile, in the opulent restroom of the restaurant, mirrors gleaming like polished diamonds under golden lights, Eliana and Sarai stood side by side at the marble sinks. The air was thick with the scent ofvender soap and underlying tension, the distant hum of the dining room muffled by thick doors. Sarai adjusted her sleek bun in the reflection, her fierce beauty entuated by the sharp lines of her designer dress, which hugged her figure like a second skin. She turned to Eliana with a sharine smile, her voice dripping with false warmth as shethered her hands. "Oh, Eliana, you¡¯re so lucky to have Rafael by your side now. He¡¯s helping you with everything¡ªyour father¡¯s health, a ce to stay, even this fancy dinner. It¡¯s like a fairy tale, isn¡¯t it? From rags to riches, all because of his... affection."


    Eliana¡¯s warm brown skin flushed slightly, her expressive brown eyes narrowing as she met Sarai¡¯s gaze in the mirror. Her long ck curls flowing over her slender shoulders, her designer dress sparkling in the light. She hade here for answers, not titudes, and the emotional wounds from their fractured friendship bubbled to the surface, raw and aching. Her voice, usually soft and resilient, cut short the small talks with quiet strength,ced with hurt. "Sarai, stop. Just stop with the niceties. Why did you betray our friendship? After everything we¡¯ve been through¡ªgrowing up together, sharing secrets, being like sisters¡ªhow could you turn on me like that?"


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 Chapter 83: Apologies

    <h4>Chapter 83: Apologies</h4>


    The restroom gleamed like something out of a luxury magazine¡ªmarble sinks polished to a mirror sheen, crystal chandeliers scattering soft light across every gilded surface. But the air was heavy, choking, charged with a storm that hadn¡¯t yet broken.


    Eliana stood rigid in front of the mirror, her reflection fierce yet fragile, eyes burning with hurt. Those deep brown eyes¡ªeyes that had once trusted Sarai with every secret¡ªnow zed with betrayal. Her long hair tumbled over her bare shoulders, the sequins of her dress glittering faintly under the light, a cruel contrast to the turmoil twisting inside her.


    Her voice cracked through the silence. "Sarai, stop. Just... stop with the sweet talk. Why?" She shook her head, disbelief hardening into anger. "Why did you betray our friendship? After everything¡ªgrowing up side by side, whispering secrets, being like sisters¡ªhow could you turn on me like that?"


    The wordsnded like blows.


    Sarai¡¯s hand faltered under the running faucet, soap slipping from her fingers as thevender scent clung too heavily to the air. Her sharp green eyes flickered in the mirror¡ªcalcting, but for a split second, caught. She straightened slowly, her sleek bun pulling her glossy ck hair tight, every inch of her designer dress molded to perfection. On the outside, she looked unshaken, but her stomach twisted violently. ¡¯God, I might puke.¡¯


    She wanted nothing than to spit the truth, to slice Eliana¡¯s heart open with the de of her hatred for Eliana. But Bianca¡¯s voice coiled through her memory, silk over steel: ¡¯Act pitiful, Sarai. Eliana¡¯s soft heart is our way in. Rafael will fall in our hands through her. Once we¡¯ve taken what we need, she¡¯s finished.¡¯


    So Sarai swallowed her pride, tasting bile as it went down. She let her shoulders sag, let her breath stutter just enough to sell the lie. Green eyes shimmered with rehearsed tears, a practiced fracture in her armor.


    When she reached out, her manicured fingers trembled¡ªnot from regret, but from precision. The perfect touch of false remorse.


    "Oh, Eliana..." Sarai¡¯s voice cracked, soft as foam butced with performance. She let it tremble just enough to sound raw, hershes heavy with the gloss of manufactured tears. "I... I don¡¯t even know where to begin. This guilt¡ªit¡¯s been suffocating me for years, pressing down on my chest every single day. You deserve the truth, no matter how much it hurts."


    She lifted a hand, dabbing at her eyes, smearing the perfect mascara lines she¡¯d so carefully painted earlier. The w made her look more human, more vulnerable¡ªexactly as intended. "The truth is... I¡¯ve always been in love with Jason." Her voice thinned, breaking as if the confession itself wounded her. "Since we were kids. Back when we¡¯d y in the school garden, when you and I would lie under the trees and whisper our dreams into the sky. I never knew how to tell you¡ªhow could I? You were so radiant with hope, so taken by him. Every time you looked at him, I saw that light in your eyes, and it... it tore me apart. Watching you both, while my own heart bled for him."


    Eliana¡¯s lips parted, her breath catching as if the floor had tilted beneath her. Her warm brown skin seemed to drain under the golden glow of the chandeliers, leaving her pallid, shaken. She braced herself against the marble counter, its coolness biting into her palms, the only anchor against the storm building inside her chest.


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    "In love with him?" Her voice was thin, a mix of disbelief and anguish. "Sarai, we were best friends. You could have said something¡ªanything¡ªinstead of this. Instead of..." Her throat closed on the rest, the weight of betrayal pressing too hard on the words.


    Sarai nodded hard, as if the force of it alone could drive the lie deeper into Eliana¡¯s heart. Her voice softened to a hushed, trembling confession, each wordced with calcted sorrow.


    "I know. I know," she whispered, shaking her head as though crushed under the weight of her own guilt. "But love¡ªit blinds you, doesn¡¯t it? And lust..." She exhaled shakily, letting her lips tremble. "God, Eliana, the way he looked at me sometimes... those stolen nces when you weren¡¯t watching. It consumed me. I couldn¡¯t fight it. I let it swallow me whole."


    Her green eyes glistened with tears, her mascara bleeding down like shadows. She clutched at her chest, her breath ragged. "That¡¯s why I betrayed you. I thought it would be just once¡ªjust once to burn out the fire inside me. To quench it, to be free of it. But it spiraled, it twisted, and before I knew it, I was lost in it. Drowning."


    Her voice cracked, breaking into a whisper that dripped with shame. "I was weak. Selfish. Every time I saw your smile, I hated myself more¡ªknowing I was the reason it would one day break."


    Tears streamed down Sarai¡¯s cheeks, glistening trails that caught the chandelier¡¯s glow as if choreographed. With a soft, deliberate copse, she sank to her knees on the shiny marble floor, her designer skirt fanning around her like spilled silk. The humiliation scorched her chest¡ª¡¯Kneeling? To her? To this naive girl dragged up from the slums?¡¯ ¡ªbut she buried the bitterness, hiding it behind a mask of trembling devotion.


    She clutched at Eliana¡¯s hands, her manicured nails pressing just enough to sting. "Please, Eliana, forgive me," she choked out, her voice quivering like ss about to shatter. "I regret it every single day. When you left, when I found out you knew about Jason and me... I was devastated. Absolutely broken, knowing I had destroyed you. My sister in everything but blood."


    Her shoulders shook with carefully measured sobs, her mascara bleeding down her cheeks, ck streaks painting her contrition. "I ended it the moment I realized. I swore I¡¯d never let him near me again. We¡¯re nothing now¡ªjust friends, shadows of what was. But I can¡¯t forgive myself. Not for this. It¡¯s like carrying a sword in my chest, twisting deeper every time I remember what I did."


    Sarai¡¯s voice faltered, dropping to a whisper meant to crack even the hardest heart. "I¡¯ve cried myself to sleep more nights than I can count, reliving every mistake, wishing I could turn back time. You¡¯re the kindest soul I know, Eliana. If anyone could pardon a wretch like me... it would be you."


    She lowered her head, shoulders heaving, every line of her body broadcasting repentance. But behind the veil of tears, her green eyes burned with something far less innocent¡ªtriumph waiting for its cue.

 Chapter 84: The Look of Betrayal

    <h4>Chapter 84: The Look of Betrayal</h4>


    Eliana didn¡¯t move at first. Her slender frame stood frozen, every muscle taut as Sarai¡¯s confession poured over her like acid rain, reopening wounds she thought had scarred long ago. Each word dragged her back¡ªto the nights she¡¯d curled up alone, convinced she wasn¡¯t enough; to the trust she had handed over like fragile ss, now lying in shards at her feet.


    She looked down at Sarai, the once-beloved friend kneeling in designer silk, mascara streaking down her face, the very picture of remorse. For a moment, the sight threatened to crack her. But something deeper stirred¡ªsomething forged in the fire of her past. The strength that had carried her through her father¡¯s illness, the resilience that had steadied her after her mother walked away¡ªit rose like steel in her chest.


    Eliana drew in a slow breath, her fingers slipping from Sarai¡¯s desperate grip. Her voice, when it came, was steady, controlled, butced with an ache so deep it could cut bone. "Sarai... get up. Please."


    The plea was quiet, but final.


    Sarai blinked through her tears, then rose with deliberate slowness, tissue in hand. She dabbed at her cheeks, smearing ck streaks into faint bruises of false regret. Her green eyes locked onto Eliana¡¯s, wide and pleading, every inch the wronged sinner begging for absolution. "Eliana," she whispered, her voice cracking just right, "say something. Yell at me, scream¡ªanything. Just... don¡¯t shut me out."


    "I¡¯ve listened to everything," Eliana said softly, her honey eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And I believe you regret it now, or at least part of you does. But I can¡¯t just erase it. The pain you caused... it changed me. I forgive you, Sarai. Truly. You saving me from Jason¡¯s kidnapping attempt¡ªthat made us even. Without you, who knows what would have happened? But forgiveness doesn¡¯t mean forgetting. I can¡¯t forget how you turned on me, how you chose him over our friendship. I don¡¯t want to be friends anymore. I don¡¯t want anything to do with you or Jason. It¡¯s over."


    Sarai¡¯s face crumpled¡ªor so it appeared¡ªbut inside, rage boiled like venom. ¡¯Humiliated. On my knees, and she rejects me? I could kill her right now, wipe that self-righteous look off her face.¡¯ She forced a nod, her voice quivering. "I... I understand. It hurts, but I deserve it. Just know I¡¯ll always care about you, Eliana."


    Eliana turned away, her long curls swaying as she pushed open the heavy door, the muffled sounds of the dining room rushing in. She walked out without another word, leaving Sarai alone in thevish space, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.


    Thirty minutester, dinner drifted toward its end, the hum of polite conversation filling the gaps between clinking sses and the soft scrape of cutlery. The restaurant¡¯s golden light painted elegant shadows across the table, disguising the fractures beneath the surface. Bianca and Sarai satposed with forced smiles, like porcin ready to crack.


    Rafael, tall and broad even as he sat in the wheelchair that concealed his strength, carried himself with effortlessmand. His dark, wavy hair caught the dim glow, his sharp features softened only by the tailored lines of his midnight suit. With a subtle flick of his hand, he turned to James. His voice, calm yet unmistakably authoritative, cut through the murmur.


    "James. The gifts."


    James moved with the quiet precision of a man trained to anticipate. From a discreet bag, he drew out two boxes¡ªglistening ck, wrapped with silk ribbon. Inside, diamond-encrusted watches gleamed like trophies, luxury carved into time itself. He ced one in front of Bianca first.


    Her manicured fingers brushed the ribbon as if savoring the moment, her painted smile deepening. "How thoughtful, Mr. Vexley," she said, her voice carrying just enough warmth to feel rehearsed. "Thank you."


    "And for you, Miss Sarai," James said, passing the other.


    Sarai took it, her sharp green eyes shing with barely concealed fury as she watched Rafael reach for Eliana¡¯s hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, warm and possessive, as he rolled toward the exit, Eliana walking beside him with her natural elegance, her worn-out past hidden behind that hopeful smile.


    As they disappeared through the doors, Sarai¡¯s grip tightened on the box. "That bitch," she hissed under her breath. "Acting all high and mighty."


    Bianca ced a calming hand on her sister¡¯s arm, her elegant features serene. "Shh, Sarai. Don¡¯t worry. The seeds I sowed tonight¡ªwith Rafael, nting those doubts about Eliana¡ªthey¡¯ll bear fruit soon enough."


    Sarai leaned forward slightly, her fingers still resting on the untouched ribbon of her box. Her voice, low but edged with a spark of curiosity, slipped through the polite haze of the table.


    "What did you tell him?" she asked, her green eyes glinting as they locked on Bianca, searching her expression for cracks.


    Bianca smiled, "Patience, little sister. We¡¯re inseparable, remember? Two peas in a pod. We¡¯ll have our way."


    The limousine glided like a shadow through the glowing city, its hum barely breaking the night¡¯s quiet. Inside, the leather seats seemed to swallow them infort, but Rafael¡¯sfort was an illusion. He sat rigid, his storm-gray eyes fixed on the shifting blur of lights outside the tinted ss. Bianca¡¯s words kept circling his head, poisonous, sharp¡ªEliana¡¯s supposed lies, her heart still chained to Jason. He said nothing, jaw tight, hands motionless, but beneath the polished calm his anger smoldered like coal.


    Eliana turned her head toward him, her face caught in the rhythm of streemps shing across her delicate features. She studied him¡ªthe silence, the tension, the way he wasn¡¯t really there with her at all. "Rafael," she said softly, her voice carrying both worry and a plea. "You¡¯ve barely spoken since dinner. Is something wrong?"


    He squeezed her hand, but the pressure was almost absent, as if the gesture was more habit thanfort. "Just business," he replied smoothly, tone t, imprable.


    But Eliana had learned to hear what he didn¡¯t say. The stillness in his eyes, the clipped edge to his words¡ªit was never just business. Something was breaking beneath the surface, and her heart twisted with the ache of not knowing what.


    By the time they reached the mansion, its vast facade zing under floodlights like a fortress, Rafael¡¯s silence had grown unbearable. He stopped at the doorway, turned his head slightly, and said, "Eliana, before you change,e with me. There¡¯s something I need to discuss."


    Her brows knit, anxiety tugging at her. "Of course. Are you sure you¡¯re okay?"


    He didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t have to¡ªhis silence was already louder than words.


    She followed him through the hushed hallways, her footsteps hesitant on marble floors that gleamed like still water. The elevator carried them up, and the weight in the air only thickened.


    In his room¡ªrich with silk and leather, the faint trace of cologne still clinging to the air¡ªRafael waited until the door clicked shut. Then, with a practiced ease that always left Eliana breathless, he rose from the wheelchair. The mask fell away. No pretense. Just his full,manding height, the sharp cut of his shoulders, his steel-gray eyes suddenly alive with a terrible rity.


    "Eliana," he said atst, voice low, grave. "Did you know Jason was the one who nned your kidnapping?"


    Her breath hitched. The blood drained from her face. "What¡ªhow do you... how do you know that?"


    The answer she gave wasn¡¯t important. The way she faltered, the panic in her eyes¡ªthat was enough. Rafael felt the confirmation slice through him. His chest tightened, his anger finally breaking free.


    "So you did know." His words cut like ss. "And you chose not to tell me."


    "Rafael, wait, I¡ª"


    "How could you keep something like this from me?" His voice rose, sharp and burning with betrayal. "This isn¡¯t some trivial mistake, Eliana. This is your life. My life. Our lives."


    Her eyes welled, her lips trembling as she tried to exin. "I didn¡¯t know how. Everything was chaos¡ªI was scared, confused¡ª"


    He stepped closer, his tone turning razor-edged,ced with a bitterness he had recently stopped directing at her. "Or was it because you¡¯re still in love with him? With Jason?"


    Her denial came in a broken cry. "No! God, no. Not after what he did. Never."


    "Then why?" he pressed, fury and disbelief threaded through his voice. "Why protect him?"


    Eliana broke then, shoulders sagging, tears streaking her cheeks. "Because Sarai begged me not to tell you. She swore it would only make things worse. She said we could... manage it, just us."


    The words were a final blow. Rafael stared at her, his expression carved from ice, each line of his face lit with disbelief. "Sarai," he repeated tly. "The same woman who betrayed you. That¡¯s who you trusted with your safety. That¡¯s who you put above me?"


    She couldn¡¯t answer. Her silence was answer enough.


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    Without another word, Rafael pulled out his phone. His movements were sharp, decisive, his face unreadable now. He dialed.


    "James," he said, his voice calm in a way that terrified Eliana more than his anger. "I need you to handle something for me."


    Her stomach dropped, dread pouring through her veins like lead. Whatever came next, she knew the night had shifted into something they could never undo.


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 Chapter 85: Unstoppable

    <h4>Chapter 85: Unstoppable</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s heartbeat thrashed wildly, a frantic bird battering itself against the bars of its cage. Across from her, Rafael¡¯s thumb hovered over the glowing screen of his phone, a single motion away from unleashing consequences she couldn¡¯t take back. His steel eyes had hardened into shards of ice, cold and merciless, and for a moment she swore the entire room bent to his will.


    Thevish surroundings ¡ª silk drapes spilling from the ceiling like waterfalls, the airced with the rich spice of his cologne, the faint creak of polished leather beneath them ¡ª all pressed in on her, making the space feel suddenly too small, too stifling.


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    Instinct overrode fear. She lurched forward, her hand catching his wrist in a desperate grip. Her slender fingers dug in, her warm brown skin stark against his pale, rigid forearm, a silent plea written in the contrast of their touch. Her vision wavered as tears pooled and shimmered, blurring the sharp lines of his jaw, softening the man who now felt like a stranger ¡ª one she was terrified of losing his temper, yet powerless to stop.


    "Rafael, please," she begged, her voice cracking like fragile ss under pressure. "Don¡¯t do this. Don¡¯t call James. Whatever you¡¯re nning for Jason¡ªit¡¯s not worth it. He¡¯s not worth dragging us into more darkness."


    Rafael paused, his gaze flicking to her face, the storm in his eyes softening just a fraction at the sight of her distress. He lowered the phone slightly, but his grip on it remained firm, unyielding. "Eliana," he said, his tone low and edged with restrained fury, "this isn¡¯t your decision. Jason orchestrated your kidnapping. He put you in chains¡ªliterally. He endangered your life, and you expect me to sit back and do nothing?"


    She shook her head frantically, her long curly ck hair swaying like dark waves in a tempest. "I know what he did was unforgivable. But revenge? That¡¯ll only make things worse. What if it backfires? What if it hurts you¡ªor us? Please, Rafael, let¡¯s think this through. We can go to the police, do it the right way."


    His lips curled into a bitter smile, sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. "The right way? You mean the way you handled it¡ªby keeping it a secret from me? Trusting Sarai, of all people, over the man who¡¯s supposed to protect you?" He pulled his hand free gently, not roughly, his touch lingering for a moment as if he couldn¡¯t bear to hurt her even in his anger. "No, Eliana. Stay out of this. You¡¯ve protected him long enough."


    Her shoulders slumped, fresh tears spilling down her soft face, tracing salty paths over her full lips. "I¡¯m not protecting him. I¡¯m protecting you¡ªfrom bing like him. Jason Asher, with their schemes and shadows. You¡¯re better than this."


    Rafael¡¯s expression hardened again, but there was a flicker of pain in his piercing eyes, a vulnerability he rarely showed. Right now he couldn¡¯t tell if she was truly trying to protect him or save Jason from his anger. He reached out, cupping her cheek with a tenderness that contradicted the storm raging inside him. "Go back to your room, Eliana," he murmured, his voice softening to a gentlemand, like a whisper of wind through leaves. "Rest. We¡¯ll talk more in the morning. I... I don¡¯t want to yell at you. I can¡¯t bear to see you like this."


    She searched his face, hoping for a crack in his resolve, but found only the unyielding wall he¡¯d built around his heart. With a shuddering breath, she nodded, her voice only a whisper. "Okay. But promise me you¡¯ll think about it. Promise me you won¡¯t do something you¡¯ll regret."


    He didn¡¯t respond, just watched her with those steel eyes that hid so much. Eliana turned away, her dinner dress swishing softly against her legs as she walked to the door, each step feeling like wading through msses. The click of thetch behind her echoed like a finality.


    The hallway stretched endlessly before her, the marble floors cold and unforgiving under her feet, mirroring the chill settling in her chest. Tears blurred her vision as she made her way to her room, the mansion¡¯s grandeur mocking her turmoil¡ªthe crystal chandeliers twinkling like distant stars, the walls adorned with priceless art that seemed to watch her with indifferent eyes. She pushed open her door, the room enveloping her in itsvish embrace: the massive four-poster bed with its plushforter, the soft glow of bedsidemps creating warm shadows on the soft curtains.


    Eliana copsed onto the bed, the mattress sinking under her weight like a weing abyss. She buried her face in the pillows, the fabric muffling her sobs as waves of emotion crashed over her¡ªbetrayal from Sarai, guilt for her secrets, fear for Rafael¡¯s soul. Her body shook with each heaving cry, her curly hair sying out like a dark halo around her. "Why did I trust her?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice raw and broken. "Why couldn¡¯t I just tell him everything?"


    The minutes dragged, stretching into an endless haze of heartache. Time itself felt cruel, every second pulling her deeper into the wreckage of the night. Her mind refused to let go, reying each moment like broken ss cutting into her skin ¡ªher talk with Sarai, Rafael¡¯s confrontation, the hollow sting of his disappointment.


    Loneliness pressed down on her chest, suffocating, heavier than the silence that filled the room. Her mind was full, her thoughts over flowing but she had no one to help unclog her mind.


    As if the universe sensed her istion, her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Henry¡¯s name. Eliana lifted her head, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her hand. She stared at the device, its insistent vibration a lifeline in the storm. Henry¡ª the one with the warm eyes and kind heart, who had always been there as a listening ear. His advices were usually a steady anchor in her turbulent life. But could she burden him with this? Her thoughts swirled chaotically: no Sarai to confide in anymore, no one else who understood her past with Jason and now her present with Rafael. Maybe Henry could help sort through the tangled mess of her feelings, offer rity amid the chaos.


    With a trembling hand, she reached for the phone, hesitating onest moment before swiping to answer. "Hello?" she managed, her voice thick with unshed tears.


    Meanwhile, back in Rafael¡¯s room, the door creaked open, admitting James with his usual efficient stride. James closed the door behind him and approached Rafael, who stood tall now, no longer confined to the wheelchair facade. The room¡¯s atmosphere crackled with tension, the air heavy with the scent of Rafael¡¯s lingering anger.


    "You called, sir?" James asked, his voice steady, eyes scanning Rafael¡¯s face for clues.


    Rafael paced slowly, his athletic build forming long shadows across the Persian rug. He stopped, turning to James with a gaze like forged steel. "Bianca cornered me at dinner tonight. She spilled everything¡ªimed Jason was the mastermind behind Eliana¡¯s kidnapping. And the unbelievable part? Eliana knew. She overheard the kidnappers mentioning they were waiting for Jason¡¯s orders. Sarai even confirmed it to her directly. But she chose to hide it from me."


    James¡¯s brow furrowed, his expression a mix of concern and caution. "Sir, that¡¯s a serious usation. Did you confront Miss Eliana about it?"


    Rafael nodded, his dark wavy hair falling slightly over his forehead as he ran a hand through it in frustration. "I asked her point-nk, just now. She couldn¡¯t deny it. Her face said it all¡ªthe panic, the guilt. She admitted Sarai begged her to keep quiet, said it would only make things worse."


    James crossed his arms, his voice measured. "And you believe Bianca? She¡¯s as maniptive as theye¡ªperhaps even worse than Sarai. Twisting truths is her specialty."


    "I know," Rafael snapped, his sarcasm surfacing like a shield. "I¡¯m not blind to her games¡ªpun intended. But Eliana¡¯s reaction confirmed it. She protected that scum, James. After everything he¡¯s done."


    James shifted his weight, choosing his words carefully. "The team we assigned to track the kidnappers¡ªthey¡¯re closing in. Leads are solidifying. Why not wait? Confirm Bianca isn¡¯t feeding you lies to stir the pot?"


    Rafael¡¯s eyes shed with impatience. "Wait? While Jason walks free, plotting God knows what next? No. I want you to bring him to Austin Miller within 24 hours. Let Austin¡¯s men soften him up¡ªproperly¡ªfor daring toy a hand on Eliana. Then, he tells me the truth himself."


    James hesitated, his tone turning advisory, almost paternal. "Sir, if Jason vanishes suddenly, Bianca will suspect you immediately. She could go to the police, spin a tale that paints you as the viin. We can¡¯t trust her¡ªfrom the intel I gathered about her, she¡¯s just as horrible as Sarai, if not more cunning."


    Rafael let out a dry, humorlessugh, the sound echoing bitterly in the room. "You think I¡¯m stupid, James? I know the risks. But no one will even know he¡¯s missing at first. And even if they do report it, the police won¡¯t act for at least 48 hours on an adult missing person case¡ªthat¡¯s the standard window before they take it seriously. By then, I¡¯ll have wrung the confession from him, and I¡¯ll deliver him to the authorities myself, gift-wrapped with evidence."


    James opened his mouth to protest further, but Rafael held up a hand, his voice brooking no argument. "Don¡¯t argue with me on this. Just do it. Get it done."


    With a resigned nod, James straightened. "As you wish, sir. I¡¯ll make the arrangements."


    Back in Eliana¡¯s room, the phone felt heavy in her hand as Henry¡¯s voice came through, warm and familiar,ced with that quiet ambition she remembered from their college days. "Eliana? Hey, it¡¯s me. I was just thinking about you¡ªwanted to check in after ourst chat. How¡¯s everything?"


    The sound of his concern, so genuine and untainted by any web of deceit, shattered her fragileposure. A fresh sob escaped her lips, raw and uncontroble, her body curling inward on the bed as tears soaked theforter.


    "Eliana?" Henry¡¯s voice shifted instantly, shock threading through it like a jolt of electricity. "What¡¯s wrong? You sound... God, are you crying? Talk to me¡ªwhat happened? Are you okay? I¡¯m worried sick here."

 Chapter 86: A Shoulder to Cry On

    <h4>Chapter 86: A Shoulder to Cry On</h4>


    Eliana¡¯s grip on the phone was so tight her fingers ached, the cold ss biting into her palm as if it were the only thing keeping her from unravelingpletely. Her knuckles nched white, a silent testament to the storm raging inside her chest. The room¡ªspacious, gilded, wless in every way Rafael liked it¡ªsuddenly felt suffocating.


    Eliana¡¯s tears had slowed, leaving faint trails cooling on her cheeks, but her body still carried the echo of her grief. Her throat burned from the sobs she¡¯d barely managed to choke back, and when she opened her mouth, her voice came out thin, trembling, threaded with a rawness that told the truth her silence could not.


    "Eliana? Please, talk to me," Henry¡¯s voice pleaded from the other end of the line,ced with that familiar warmth that made her feel seen, even from miles away. She could picture him now¡ªtall and handsome, with those sharp features softened by his kind, blue eyes, probably sitting in his luxurious apartment surrounded by medical textbooks, his brow furrowed in concern. "You¡¯re scaring me. What¡¯s going on? Did something happen with your dad? Or... or with that job you mentioned?"


    She dragged in a shaky breath, the kind that scraped against her throat and refused to smooth out. It caught halfway, breaking apart like a sob she didn¡¯t have the strength to swallow. The silence on the line pushed her over the edge, and before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out¡ªraw, unpolished, a confession born of desperation.


    "Henry..." Her voice cracked, thin but urgent. "It¡¯s Rafael. Rafael Vexley." She pressed the phone tighter to her ear as if that could steady her, as if hearing her own voice would make the chaos make sense. "He... he confessed his love to me. He told me two days ago¡ªjust blurted it out like he couldn¡¯t keep it buried anymore." Her breath hitched, memory flooding in. "He said he¡¯d been fighting it for so long, but he couldn¡¯t anymore. That in the middle of everything¡ªthis madness, this danger¡ªI was the only one who ever saw through his walls. That I was the one thing he couldn¡¯t lie to."


    There was a pause on the line, a heavy silence that stretched like a taut wire. Henry¡¯s heart twisted sharply in his chest, a familiar ache blooming anew. He leaned back against his couch, running a hand through his tousled hair, his warm eyes clouding with unspoken sorrow. He¡¯d loved Eliana ever since he met her in college, herughter had always cut through the noises like sunlight piercing clouds. But she¡¯d been with Jason then, and he¡¯d buried his feelings deep, content to be her friend. Now, hearing this¡ªit stung like salt in an old wound. She¡¯s happy, he scolded himself inwardly, forcing a smile into his voice even though she couldn¡¯t see it. That¡¯s all that matters. Don¡¯t be selfish, Henry. She¡¯s been through enough.


    "Wow, Eliana... that¡¯s... that¡¯s huge," he finally managed, his tone steady despite the turmoil inside. He swallowed hard, pushing down the jealousy that threatened to surface. "Rafael Vexley, the billionaire? I mean, from what I¡¯ve heard, he¡¯s not exactly the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. How do you feel about it? Do you... do you love him too?"


    Eliana bit her lip, her honey eyes staring nkly at the ceiling as she searched her soul for an answer. Her slender frame curled deeper into the bed, the softforter a poor substitute for thefort she craved. Rafael¡¯s confession had ignited something in her¡ªa spark of warmth amid the cold dread¡ªbut it was tangled with so many other threads. "I... I feel something for him, Henry. Something deep, pulling at me like a current I can¡¯t fight. He¡¯s been so kind, in his own guarded way. But is it love? Or just gratitude? He¡¯s given me a job, a purpose when I had nothing. He¡¯s paying for Dad¡¯s treatments, pulling strings with the best doctors. How do I separate that from real feelings? It¡¯s all so messed up."


    Henry¡¯s mind raced, piecing together the fragments she¡¯d shared in their recent reconnections. He¡¯d always been her sounding board, offering advice with that quiet ambition that drove him toward his medical dreams. But this? This was uncharted territory. "Gratitude can feel a lot like love sometimes, especially when someone¡¯s been your lifeline. But hey, emotions aren¡¯t ck and white. Give yourself time to figure it out. You deserve that."


    She let out a soft, bitterugh, the sound muffled by her hand as she wiped away fresh tears. "Time? That¡¯s the one thing I don¡¯t have, Henry. There¡¯s a problem with his love¡ªit¡¯s built on lies. Mine, mostly. And I¡¯m so guilty, so scared right now. I feel like I¡¯m walking on eggshells, waiting for everything to shatter."


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    Henry¡¯s voice sharpened with worry, his reserved nature giving way to protective instinct. He sat up straighter, his sharp features tightening in the dim light of hismp. "What do you mean? Eliana, you¡¯re not making sense. What¡¯s got you this worked up? Is he pressuring you or something?"


    Her heart pounded as she prepared to unleash the secret that had been festering inside her like a poison. The room¡¯s air felt thick, charged with the weight of her confession. "A few days after I first arrived at Rafael¡¯s house¡ªas his caregiver¡ªI found out something horrifying. My mother, the one who abandoned my father and me when I was five... she¡¯s now Rafael¡¯s stepmother. Mirabel Vexley. She¡¯s married into his family, wed her way to the top with her pearls and silk and that icy stare."


    Henry gasped audibly, the sound sharp and involuntary, like a punch to the gut. He nearly dropped the phone, his warm eyes widening in disbelief. "What? Your mother? The one who just... vanished? And now she¡¯s part of the Vexley empire? Eliana, that¡¯s insane. How did you even find out?"


    Eliana¡¯s voice cracked, emotion flooding her words as she relived the shock. Her expressive eyes brimmed with tears again, her lips trembling. "It was like a nightmare. I had a fight with her daughter Celina, sheter got involved and I even got pped by her. And the worst part? Rafael hates her. Despises her with every fiber of his being. Apparently, she¡¯s tried to kill him several times¡ªpoison, idents, you name it. All for control of the family fortune."


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 Chapter 87: Leave

    <h4>Chapter 87: Leave</h4>


    Henry¡¯s mind reeled, his ambitious brain struggling to process the drama unfolding in her life. He paced hisrge living room now, the marble cold under his bare feet. "She pped you? He hates her? She tried to kill him? God, Eliana, this sounds like something out of a thriller novel. Does he know? About you being her daughter?"


    "No!" she whispered fiercely, her voice dropping as if the walls had ears. Fear wed at her chest, making her breathe in short bursts. "He has no idea, and I¡¯m terrified of what he¡¯d do if he found out. Rafael doesn¡¯t just hate her, Henry¡ªhe hates everyone associated with her. By blood or even acquaintance. He¡¯d see me as an enemy, a nt sent to betray him. I¡¯ve seen his cold side, Henry. That calcting re, the sarcasm that cuts like a knife. What if he turns it on me?"


    Henry stopped pacing, his hand pressing against his forehead as he absorbed the blow. Shock painted his handsome face, his warm eyes darkening with concern. "This is... I don¡¯t even know what to say. What about your mom? Has she said anything? Did she even apologize for abandoning you after all these years?"


    Eliana¡¯sugh was hollow,ced with pain that twisted her soft, heart-shaped face. "Apologies to me? She didn¡¯t even recognize me. She looked right through me, Henry. Like I was dirt on her designer heels. And it¡¯s worse¡ªshe hates me now. Wants to harm me because of that fight I got into with Celine, her precious daughter. My half-sister, can you believe it? Celine¡¯s this spoiled brat, and I stood up to her, and now Mirabel¡¯s gunning for me. She doesn¡¯t even know I¡¯m her flesh and blood, and she¡¯s already plotting my end."


    Henry¡¯s shock deepened, his voice rising in incredulity. "Hates you? Wants to harm you? Eliana, that¡¯s messed up on so many levels. Your own mother, treating you like an enemy without even knowing the truth. This house... it¡¯s not safe for you anymore. You can¡¯t stay there, surrounded by people who could destroy you at any moment."


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    She let out a long, weary sigh, her shoulders sinking as though the weight of the evening might crush her. Her curls tumbled forward, spilling over her shoulders in loose, untamed waves that brushed against the satin of her gown. She hadn¡¯t even bothered to change¡ªthe elegant dress clung stubbornly to her warm brown skin, a reminder of a night that had spun far beyond her control.


    "It¡¯s not just that, Henry, there¡¯s more," she whispered, her voice quivering between exhaustion and anger. "Now Rafael and I are at each other¡¯s throats over Jason." Her lips pressed tight for a moment before the words broke free in a rush. "Turns out Jason orchestrated my kidnapping a few days ago. He hired thugs¡ªactual thugs¡ªto drag me off while I was on my way to see my father at the hospital. Only God knows what he nned to do with me if it had worked."


    Her hand trembled as she raked it through her curls, eyes burning at the memory. "But Sarai... she came out of nowhere. She scared them off. Saved me. Then she begged me¡ªbegged me¡ªnot to tell Rafael. Said it would only make things worse, that Jason could get killed by Rafael if he knew."


    Henry¡¯s gasp this time was louder,ced with horror. "Kidnapped? Eliana, you were kidnapped? By Jason? Why the hell didn¡¯t you tell me sooner? God, I knew that guy was bad news back in college, but this? This is criminal. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"


    "I¡¯m fine now, physically," she assured him, though her voice wavered. "But Rafael found out somehow¡ªthrough one of his many links, I think. And he¡¯s furious. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s nning for Jason, but it scares me. Rafael¡¯s ruthless when he¡¯s betrayed. And I hid it from him, Henry. To protect Rafael, maybe even Jason a little. Now everything¡¯s exploding."


    Henry¡¯s tone turned blunt, his reserved demeanor cracking under the weight of his worry. He leaned against the wall, his heart pounding. "Eliana, listen to me. You¡¯re not safe in that environment. Kidnappings, attempted murders, family secrets that could blow up in your face¡ªit¡¯s a powder keg. You have to leave. As soon as possible. Pack a bag, get out before it alles crashing down."


    "But I can¡¯t just leave," she protested, her emotional resilience fraying at the edges. She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, her hopeful smile long gone, reced by a mask of despair. "Rafael¡¯s paying for Dad¡¯s hospital bills remember? Without him, we¡¯d be back to square one¡ªbills piling up, Dad suffering. And Rafael... he¡¯s been betrayed so many times, Henry. His family, his so-called friends and caregivers. If I vanish now, it¡¯ll shatter him all over again. I¡¯d be no better than the rest."


    Henry took a deep breath, calming his racing thoughts. His voice softened, turning advisory like the doctor he aspired to be. "Okay, okay. I get it. But let me ask you this, Eliana¡ªcalmly. Are you free in that house? Can you walk the halls without looking over your shoulder? Can you sleep at night with your eyes closed, without the guilt gnawing at you or the fear that Rafael will uncover your lies? Or that your mother will find a way to harm you, daughter or not?"


    She fell silent, the questions hitting her like arrows. The room spun slightly, the elegant furnishings mocking her turmoil. No, she wasn¡¯t free. Every day was a tightrope walk, every smile a facade.


    "And if the answer to those is no," Henry continued gently, his ambition fueling his resolve to help, "then you have to leave. For your sake, for your dad¡¯s in the long run. I¡¯m willing to help you escape, Eliana. Whatever it takes¡ªpick you up, find a ce, anything. Just say the word."


    Eliana¡¯s breath hitched, the offer hanging in the air like a lifeline. But as the weight of it settled, she wondered if she had the strength to grab it¡ªor if the chains of her secrets would hold her captive forever.

 Chapter 88: Making Up

    <h4>Chapter 88: Making Up</h4>


    Eliana held the phone tight to her ear, her voice only a whisper in the dim glow of her room. The blue gown from earlier still clung to her skin, silk against warmth, a reminder of the night¡¯s chaos and everything it had stirred up inside her. Henry¡¯s voice came soft through the line, concern threading every word, but her own secrets sat heavier, pressing down with each breath.


    "Henry, I... I just don¡¯t know if I can walk away from all this," she murmured, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It¡¯s like I¡¯m trapped in a web, and every move I make tightens the threads."


    On the other end, Henry¡¯s voice was steady,ced with that reserved ambition she remembered from their college days together. "Eliana, you¡¯ve got to think about yourself for once. You¡¯re stronger than this. Remember that."


    A sharp knock echoed against her door, jolting her like a thunderp. Her heart leaped into her throat, pounding wildly. "Henry, someone¡¯s at the door," she hissed, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. "Thank you... thank you for being such a good listener. I promise I¡¯ll think about everything you said. Really think about it."


    "Eliana, wait¡ª"


    "Goodbye, Henry. I have to go." She ended the call with a trembling finger, the screen going dark as she tossed the phone onto the bed. Her curls bounced wildly as she scrambled out from under the covers, her bare feet padding softly against the cool marble floor. She smoothed her gown with shaky hands, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. Who could it be at this hour? Her mind raced¡ªMirabel? Some servant with another twisted message? Or worse, Rafael, his grey eyes piercing through her facade like he did earlier?


    She approached the door cautiously, her hand hovering over the knob for a moment before turning it. The door creaked open, revealing Rafael in his wheelchair, his tall frame somehowmanding even in the dim hallway light. His dark wavy hair was slightly tousled, as if he¡¯d been running his hands through it in frustration, and his crisp shirt was unbuttoned at the cor, exposing a hint of his athletic build. Those piercing eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist.


    "Rafael," she said, her voice guarded,ced with the wariness of someone who¡¯d just been burned. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to shield herself from whatever storm he might bring. "Do you... need anything from me? It¡¯ste."


    He didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, hisrge hand enveloping hers in a surprisingly gentle grip. His touch was warm, hard from years of hidden workout sessions with James, and it sent a conflicting rush offort and fear through her. "Eliana," he said softly, his voice a low rumble that carried the weight of regret. "I¡¯m sorry. For how I handled things earlier. I shouldn¡¯t haveshed out like that."


    Her eyes widened, surprise flickering before she could react. He drew her closer with a steady tug, guiding her onto hisp. A soft gasp slipped from her lips as she settled against his chest, framed by the wheelchair¡¯s armrests that turned the moment into something almost intimate. Her curls brushed his shoulder while he rolled them down the hall, his movements effortless, practiced. Only two doors were in the hall¡ªhis and hers.


    The wheels whispered over the floor, the hallway lights creating shadows that stretched and swayed around them. When they reached his room, he eased the door shut with a quiet click, enclosing them in silk and scent. His bed loomedrge, draped in sheets that caught the light, while the faint trace of his cologne lingered in the air like a promise left hanging.


    "Rafael, what are you¡ª" she started, but he cut her off gently, his hands resting on her waist, holding her steady as if she might flee.


    "I was angry, Eliana," he confessed, his sarcastic edge softened by vulnerability. His grey eyes searched her face, tracing the curve of her heart-shaped features. "Angry that you didn¡¯t tell me about Jason¡¯s involvement in your kidnapping. But I¡¯ve thought about it... really thought about it. I know I can seem scary at times. Intimidating. And maybe you just didn¡¯t want too much drama exploding from the whole mess."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened further, her lips parting in surprise. She nodded slowly, her hands instinctively resting on his shoulders for bnce. The warmth of his body seeped through her gown, stirring something deep within her despite the turmoil. "Yes... that¡¯s exactly it," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I don¡¯t want you getting involved in anything that would make you do something horrible because of anger. You¡¯ve already been through so much, Rafael. I see the pain you hide, and I... I couldn¡¯t bear to add to it."


    He let out a sigh, his chiseled jaw tightening for a moment before rxing. His fingers tracedzy circles on her back, a soothing gesture that contrasted his earlier cold demeanor. "I know you¡¯re still getting to know me," he said, his tone earnest, almost pleading. "And maybe your feelings for me aren¡¯t that strong yet. Not like mine for you. But I wouldn¡¯t do anything to ruin what we have, Eliana. What we¡¯re building. It¡¯s fragile, I get that. But I hate lies. God, I hate them more than anything. They tear everything apart. Please, don¡¯t lie to me again. Even omitting the truth... that¡¯s a lie too. It chips away at us."


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    Eliana¡¯s heart sank like a stone in her chest, the weight of her unspoken secrets¡ªher connection to Mirabel, the blood ties that could shatter everything¡ªcrushing her from within. She felt a pang of guilt so sharp it stole her breath, her honey eyes misting over. How could she promise that when the truth could destroy him? Destroy them? "Rafael... I..." she whispered, her voice cracking, but she couldn¡¯t find the words. Not yet.


    Before the silence could swallow them, he pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her with a possessive tenderness. She melted against him, her head resting on his shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of him. Then, slowly, he tilted her chin up with a finger, his lips brushing hers in a sweet, tentative kiss. It started soft, almost apologetic¡ªhis mouth warm and gentle, coaxing hers open with feather-light pressure. She responded hesitantly at first, her hands sliding up to cup his face, feeling the stubble along his jaw.


    But the kiss deepened, emotion fueling the fire. Rafael¡¯s tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her with a hunger that made her gasp. His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. "Eliana," he murmured against her mouth, his voice husky. "You drive me crazy. In the best way."


    She moaned softly, the sound escaping before she could stop it, her body arching into his touch. "Rafael... oh God," she breathed, her fingers tangling in his dark wavy hair. The kiss turned hot, urgent¡ªtongues dancing, breaths mingling in ragged pants. He nipped at her lower lip, eliciting a whimper from her, and she felt the heat pooling between her thighs.


    In a surge of passion, Rafael gripped her thighs and stood abruptly from the wheelchair, lifting her effortlessly in his arms. The facade of his disabilities shattered in that moment, his athletic build revealed in full strength as he pressed her against the wall. The cool surface contrasted the fire of his body, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. "Fuck, I need you," he growled, his lips crashing back onto hers with bruising intensity. Eliana gasped.


    The kiss escted, wild and consuming. His hands fumbled with his shirt, ripping it open to expose his chiseled chest, muscles rippling under her exploring fingers. He shrugged it off, then yanked down his pants, his hard cock springing free¡ªthick, veined, and throbbing with need. Eliana¡¯s breath hitched at the sight, her pussy clenching in anticipation. "Rafael... please," she begged, her voice a sultry plea.


    He unzipped her gown with frantic fingers, the fabric pooling at her waist before he tugged it down, exposing her full breasts and the curve of her hips. His mouth descended on her neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks that would bloom like bruises tomorrow. "You¡¯re so fucking beautiful," he rasped, his tongue trailing down to her corbone. She moaned louder, her nails digging into his shoulders as he captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation shot straight to her core, her pussy dripping with arousal.


    "Oh god, yes... Rafael!" she cried, her head thrown back against the wall. He switched to the other breast,vishing it with the same attention¡ªtongue swirling, teeth grazing¡ªwhile his hand slipped between her legs, fingers teasing her slick folds. She bucked against him, moaning uncontrobly, the room filled with the wet sounds of his mouth on her skin.


    They were lost in the haze, high on each other. Rafael¡¯s cock pressed against her thigh, hot and insistent, pre-cum smearing her skin as he ground into her. He positioned himself at her entrance, ready to thrust deep into her tight pussy, to fuck her senseless against the wall. "I¡¯m going to fuck you so hard, Eliana," he groaned, his eyes dark with lust. "Make you scream my name."


    But suddenly, a wave of nausea crashed over her like a heavy rock. Her stomach churned violently, the room spinning. "Rafael... wait," she gasped, pushing at his chest. Panic red in her eyes as bile rose in her throat. She wriggled free, her feet hitting the floor unsteadily, and bolted for the bathroom.


    She barely made it to the toilet before retching, her body heaving as she threw up, the acrid taste burning her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat from their passion. What the hell was happening? The Chapter ended there, leaving her hunched over, vulnerable and alone in the tiled sanctuary, while Rafael¡¯s concerned voice echoed from the doorway. "Eliana? What¡¯s wrong?"


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 Chapter 89: Morning Chaos

    <h4>Chapter 89: Morning Chaos</h4>


    The dim glow of the bedsidemp spilled across the room, painting everything in shades of gold and shadow. Rafael stood motionless in the bathroom doorway, breath caught in his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was bare, stripped not just of clothing but of the armor he wore in the daylight¡ªthe ruthless mogul whomanded boardrooms and bent empires to his will.


    Now, under the softened light, he was only a man. His body¡ªsculpted, powerful, still slick with the remnants of their passion¡ªlooked carved out of fire and tension, every muscle pulled taut as if bracing for impact. But it was his face that betrayed him. Those steel eyes, usually cold and unshakable, were blown wide with worry, unguarded in a way he never let the world see. His jaw flexed, clenched so hard it looked painful, as though he could grind his fear into silence.


    And across from him, the source of his undoing¡ªEliana. She was hunched over the toilet, her body trembling with each violent heave, fragile in a way that shattered him. Her dark hair clung damply to her cheeks, shoulders shivering with effort. The sound of her retching ripped through him louder than any gunshot.


    Rafael¡¯s fingers twitched at his sides, torn between the instinct to rush forward and the fear that if he touched her now, he might break her further. For the first time in years, the man who controlled everything felt powerless.


    "Eliana?" Rafael¡¯s voice cracked through the silence, low but trembling at the edges, rougher than he meant it to be. Panic threaded through every syble.


    He took a cautious step forward, the chill of the bathroom tiles biting into his bare feet, but he barely registered it. All he saw was her¡ªsmall, trembling, folded over the porcin.


    "What¡¯s happening?" His words cracked, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to hide. He swallowed hard, steel eyes locked on her as if looking away would make her vanish. "Talk to me, please. Just... tell me you¡¯re okay."


    Eliana dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, smearing away thest trace of weakness as fresh tears streaked down her warm skin. With trembling fingers, she flushed the toilet, the sound too loud in the small space, then slumped back against the wall.


    Her chest rose unevenly, each breath a struggle she tried to disguise. Those soft brown eyes lifted to Rafael¡ªmisty, raw¡ªbut behind the haze, she summoned that stubborn thread of strength he both admired and hated, because it meant she¡¯d rather suffer than let him see her break.


    "I¡¯m... I¡¯m fine, Rafael." Her voice was a fragile whisper, shaky but carried with a thread of resolve. She tried for a smile, but it faltered, her lips trembling with the effort. "It¡¯s nothing serious. I probably just... rushed my dinner."


    She nced away, as if ashamed of her own weakness. "I was nervous¡ªwith Sarai and Bianca there. My stomach doesn¡¯t handle stress well. Indigestion hits hard, that¡¯s all. It¡¯ll pass. Really, it¡¯s not that bad."


    The words came out steady enough, but her pallor, the sheen of sweat on her forehead, betrayed her.


    Rafael knelt beside her, hisrge hands gently cupping her face, thumbs brushing away her tears. Even in his nudity, there was no awkwardness; only raw, protective emotion etched across his handsome features. "That doesn¡¯t sound like nothing, Eliana. You were fine a minute ago, and now... this? We should go to the hospital. Right now. Let me get dressed¡ª"


    "No, no hospital," she interrupted firmly, cing her hands over his. Her expressive eyes locked onto his, pleading. "Rafael, please. I don¡¯t want to make a fuss. It¡¯s just a stomach thing. I¡¯ve had worse. Trust me, okay? I¡¯ll be alright."


    He searched her face, his piercing gaze conflicted, a storm of worry brewing behind it. "I don¡¯t like this. You¡¯re pale, and... damn it, Eliana, I can¡¯t just stand here and do nothing. If it gets worse¡ª"


    "It won¡¯t," she assured him, her voice softening as she leaned into his touch. She stood slowly, pulling him up with her, and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. Her head rested against his broad chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "See? I¡¯m okay now. Just hold me for a second."


    Rafael enveloped her in his arms, his chin resting on her curly hair. He sighed deeply, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. "You scare the hell out of me, you know that? Fine, no hospital¡ªfor now. But if you so much as wince again, we¡¯re going."


    Eliana pulled back with a small, genuineugh, her emotional resilience shining through. "Deal. Now, let¡¯s get out of here before we both catch a chill." She nced around the luxurious bathroom, spotting the plush bathrobes hanging on the hooks. Grabbing one, she slipped it over her slender frame, the soft fabric enveloping her like a warm embrace. Then, she handed him the other with a yful wink. "Here, Mr. Vexley. Can¡¯t have you strutting around like that all night."


    Rafael chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that broke the tension, as he tied the robe around his waist. "Strutting? I was about to im what¡¯s mine, remember? But alright, bossy." He followed her to the sink, where she rummaged through the cab like it was her own space¡ªpulling out a spare toothbrush and handing it to him with a grin.


    "Here, minty fresh for both of us," she said, squeezing toothpaste onto hers. They stood side by side at the double vanity, brushing their teeth in sync, foam bubbling at their lips. Eliana caught his eye in the mirror and made a funny face, crossing her eyes and puffing her cheeks. Rafael burst outughing, nearly spitting out his toothpaste.


    "You¡¯re ridiculous," he said through a mouthful, shaking his head. "How do you go from throwing up to this in five minutes?"


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    "It¡¯s a talent," she replied, rinsing her mouth and smiling brightly. "Now, shower time. You first, or me?"


    They took turns under the steaming water, the bathroom filling with the scent ofvender soap. Eliana emerged first, her long curls damp and framing her heart-shaped face, and Rafael followed, his dark wavy hair slicked back, looking every bit themanding CEO even in a robe.


    Finally, they climbed into the massive four-poster bed, the silk sheets whispering against their skin. Rafael pulled her close, her back against his chest, his arm draped possessively over her waist. "You know, our little moment got paused because of your traitorous stomach," he teased, his breath warm against her ear. "I was this close to making you scream my name. But I¡¯ll let you rest tonight. Tomorrow, though? No distractions. I¡¯m iming that sweet body of yours, Eliana. All of it."


    She giggled, the sound light and melodic, turning in his arms to face him. "Promises, promises, Mr. Vexley. But yeah, tomorrow sounds perfect." Theirughter faded into a sweet kiss, his lips gentle on hers, a stark contrast to the earlier fire. It was tender, lingering, filled with unspoken promises.


    As they drifted off, tangled in each other¡¯s arms, the world outside the bedroom faded away. Rafael¡¯s breathing evened out first, but Eliana¡¯s mind lingered on the warmth of his embrace, her emotional wounds soothed for the moment.


    The next morning, sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, creating golden hues across the room. Rafael stirred first, his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He grabbed it quietly, not wanting to wake her, and read the message from James: <strong><i>"Sir, Jason¡¯s been captured. Austin Miller¡¯s men have him locked down at the warehouse¡ªinterrogation¡¯s already underway. I¡¯m inside the house now, waiting for you downstairs. Just give the word, and we move."</i></strong>


    Rafael¡¯s jaw tightened, a flicker of his cold, calcting side resurfacing. He nced down at Eliana, her face peaceful in sleep,shes fanning her cheeks. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I¡¯m sorry, my love," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I have to handle Jason myself. If I don¡¯t, he¡¯lle after you again. Put you in danger. I can¡¯t let that happen."


    He slipped out of bed carefully, padding to the bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water falling over him, but his mind was elsewhere¡ªplotting, protecting. He didn¡¯t know Eliana had stirred at his kiss, her eyes fluttering open just enough to hear every word he said to her. Shey still, pretending to sleep, her heart racing as he dressed in a crisp suit and wheeled himself out in his chair, maintaining the facade.


    Once the door clicked shut, Eliana sat up abruptly, her breathing in hard gasps. "What is he nning to do to Jason?" she whispered to the empty room, her hands clutching the sheets. Panic wed at her chest. She swung her legs over the bed and hurried to the balcony, parting the curtains just in time to see Rafael¡¯s sleek ck car pulling away from the mansion¡¯s grand driveway, tires crunching on gravel.


    A fresh wave of nausea hit her hard. She mped a hand over her mouth and dashed back to the bathroom, dropping to her knees before the toilet. Her body convulsed as she threw up again, the acrid burn in her throat mirroring the whirlwind in her mind. "What¡¯s wrong with me?" she gasped between heaves, tears blurring her vision. She couldn¡¯t understand it¡ªindigestion? Or something more? She¡¯d get it checkedter, when she visited her father at the hospital. But right now, her thoughts swirled around Rafael. "Please, God," she prayed aloud, her voice trembling. "Don¡¯t let him harm Jason. Don¡¯t let him take this into his own hands. He¡¯s better than that."


    As she rinsed her mouth and sshed water on her face, a sudden m echoed from the bedroom door. Voices¡ªsharp, angry¡ªpierced the air. Eliana froze, her hand on the doorknob. Instinct screamed at her to hide. She cracked the door just a sliver, peeking through the gap.


    There, in the opulent bedroom, stood Mirabel Vexley, her elegant frame radiating fury. Her smooth brown skin was flushed, her immactely styled hair slightly disheveled for the first time Eliana could remember. She was nked by Celina, the spoiled 18-year-old with her designer outfit and pouty lips, and a young man¡ªolder, maybe 20¡ªwith slicked-back hair and a smug expression. Caleb, Eliana guessed, the entitled step-sibling.


    Maids hovered nervously in the doorway, wringing their hands. "Where is Rafael?" Mirabel screeched, her voice like ice cracking under pressure. "I know he¡¯s done something to my brother Victor! He couldn¡¯t just vanish¡ªRafael¡¯s behind this! If he doesn¡¯t hand Victor over right now, I¡¯ll make him pay!"


    One maid stammered, "Ma¡¯am, Mr. Vexley left early this morning. We don¡¯t know¡ª"


    "Shut up!" Mirabel snapped, her pearls clinking as she whirled on them. "I know everything I need to know about that little gutter-rat caregiver of his. Eliana. Rafael loves her¡ªthinks she¡¯s his precious savior. If he won¡¯t give me Victor, I¡¯ll take my anger out on her. Search this house! Every room, every corner. Find her and bring her to me. Now!"


    Celina smirked, crossing her arms. "Yeah, let¡¯s see how tough Rafael is when we mess with his toy."


    Caleb chuckled darkly. "This¡¯ll be fun. About time we put that gold-digger in her ce."


    Eliana gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. She retreated deeper into the bathroom, locking the door with trembling fingers. Her body shook uncontrobly, fear gripping her like chains¡ªfear of her own mother, the woman who¡¯d abandoned her for this world of wealth and cruelty. Huddled in the corner, knees drawn to her chest, she whispered to herself, "Please, stay away. Please don¡¯t find me."

 Chapter 90: Another Escape

    <h4>Chapter 90: Another Escape</h4>


    Mirabel Vexley stormed out of Rafael¡¯svish bedroom like a thunderp breaking over marble. Every strike of her heels ricocheted down the hallway¡ªsharp, unforgiving, a sound that made even the chandeliers seem to tremble. Rage carved itself into her features, her jaw tight, her eyes burning. The silk blouse hugging her figure clung as if it, too, wanted to escape her fury.


    She wasn¡¯t alone. Celina and Caleb shadowed her, their presence less support and more extension of her venom. Celina tossed her hair with the kind of dramatics only a spoiled daughter could perfect, lips twisting into a sneer that promised cruelty. The hem of her designer skirt swished with each step, like a warning before the strike. Caleb, ever the vulture, kept his pace deliberately unhurried, his slicked-back hair catching the chandelier¡¯s glow. His chuckle was low, dark, predatory¡ªlike he could already taste the chaos waiting to unfold.


    Behind them, a small army of maids scurried in fear, their expressions tight and anxious. Mirabel didn¡¯t slow; she turned on them with the kind of authority that left no room for hesitation.


    "Spread out!" Her voice cracked through the hall, brittle and cutting. "Every room, every closet, every shadow in this cursed mansion. That little caregiver¡ªEliana¡ªshe¡¯s here. Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know it."


    The maids exchanged nervous nces but obeyed, peeling off in different directions.


    Mirabel¡¯s hands curled into fists at her sides, her fury sharpening with every word. "Rafael thinks he can protect his little pet project. I hear she didn¡¯t go out with him this morning. If he¡¯s hiding Victor from me, I¡¯ll make her pay for it." Her voice dropped into a growl, venom dripping from every syble. "Drag her out if you have to. I want her face in the light when she realizes what crossing me costs."


    Celina flipped her hair dramatically, her voice dripping with venom. "Oh, this is gonna be epic, Mom. I¡¯ve been dying to put that nobody in her ce. Thinks she can just waltz in here and be somebody important? Oh please."


    Caleb cracked his knuckles, his smug grin widening. "Yeah, let¡¯s see how Rafael likes being on the receiving end for once. That gold-digger caregiver probably thinks she¡¯s safe in his bed. Not anymore."


    The maids scattered like frightened birds, their whispers echoing faintly down the grand hallways. Mirabel paused at the top of the sweeping staircase, her pearls clinking as she gripped the banister. "Remember, no mercy. Rafael¡¯s weakness is her¡ªexploit it."


    Inside the bathroom, Eliana¡¯s heart pounded like a trapped animal against her ribs. She had locked the door, but the thin barrier felt like paper against the storm brewing outside. Curled in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, she clutched her bathrobe tighter, the soft terrycloth a poor shield against the chill of terror. Tears stung her eyes as memories flooded her¡ªMirabel¡¯s abandonment, the years of poverty with her father, the emotional scars that never fully healed. And now, this: her own mother hunting her like prey.


    The voices faded down the hall, and Eliana dared to move. She cracked the bathroom door open, peeking into the empty bedroom. The massive four-poster bed loomed like a silent witness, the silk sheets still rumpled from where she and Rafael had tangled in passion the night before. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she darted out, her bare feet silent on the plush carpet. She snatched her phone from under the pillow, its screen lighting up with a soft glow that felt like a lifeline in the dim room.


    Back in the bathroom, she mmed the door shut and locked it again, sliding down against the cool tile wall. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled to Rafael¡¯s number. "Come on... pick up," she breathed, the words trembling out like a prayer she wasn¡¯t sure anyone would answer. The phone rang once, twice¡ªthen dropped into voicemail.


    Her stomach twisted. Doubt mmed into her chest like a breaker against the rocks, stealing her breath. If she tried again, he might rush back, guns zing¡ªmetaphorically or not. A confrontation with Mirabel could explode into chaos. What if, in the heat of it all, Mirabel¡¯s eyes widened in recognition? "Eliana is... my daughter?" The truth would shatter everything. Rafael, with his deep-seated trust issues, might see her secrecy as betrayal. He could turn on her, his love twisting into something lethal. No, she couldn¡¯t risk that. Living under this roof meant constant danger now¡ªMirabel¡¯s shadow loomed toorge, too vicious.


    Swallowing hard, Eliana swiped to another contact: Henry Jackson with the warm eyes and unspoken affections. He was safe, reliable. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice answered,ced with surprise. "Eliana? Hey, it¡¯s early¡ªeverything okay?"


    "Henry," she whispered urgently, cupping her hand over the mouthpiece to muffle her words. The mansion¡¯s walls seemed to have ears, and Mirabel¡¯s screeching echoed faintly from downstairs. "I... I need help. It¡¯s bad. Rafael¡¯s stepmother¡ªMy mom¡ªshe¡¯s here with her kids, storming the house. They¡¯re looking for me. She thinks Rafael did something to her brother Victor, and she¡¯s taking it out on me. They¡¯re searching everywhere, Henry. I heard them¡ªthey called me a gold-digger, a toy. I¡¯m hiding in the bathroom, but they could find me any second."


    Henry¡¯s voice shifted instantly from casual to panicked, his breathing audible over the line. "What? Eliana, oh God¡ªare you serious? Your own mother? This is so crazy. Okay, listen to me: you need to get out of there. Now. Find a back door, a window, anything. I¡¯m jumping in my car right this second. I¡¯ll pick you up¡ªwhere can I meet you? Just get out with your life, don¡¯t go packing anything. Leave it all behind."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes darted around the bathroom, the luxurious fixtures mocking her vulnerability. "I... I don¡¯t know. The estate¡¯s huge, guards everywhere. But yeah, I¡¯ll find a way. Just hurry, please."


    <fn3f64> Original content can be found at ?ovelFind</fn3f64>


    "Should I call the police?" Henry asked, his tone frantic, the sound of car keys jingling in the background. "This sounds like a home invasion or something. They can¡¯t just¡ª"


    "No!" Eliana hissed, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. "No police, Henry. Please. Rafael... he¡¯s involved in this mess somehow. I don¡¯t want anything to hurt him. He¡¯s not here, but if cops show up, it could blow up everything. Juste get me. I¡¯ll figure out an exit."


    "Alright, alright," Henry relented, though worryced his words. "I¡¯m on my way. Stay on the line if you can¡ªtell me when you¡¯re out."


    As Eliana nodded to herself, clutching the phone like a talisman, the bathroom door rattled. She gasped, her breath freezing in her lungs. She scrambled behind the door, pressing her body t against the wall, her heart thundering so loudly she feared it would give her away. The knob turned, and the door swung open slowly. Eliana gasped in fear, she could have sworn she had locked the door earlier.


    "Eliana?" a soft whisper called out. "Miss Eliana, it¡¯s me¡ªra."


    Relief flooded Eliana like a dam breaking. She peeked around the door, seeing the kind-faced maid with her ck hair tied back, her uniform crisp but her eyes wide with concern. Eliana lunged forward, wrapping her arms around ra in a desperate hug. "ra! Oh, thank God. I thought it was them."


    ra hugged her back fiercely, her voice a hushed murmur against Eliana¡¯s ear. "Shh, dear. I heard themotion¡ªMrs Vexley is on a warpath. You can¡¯t stay here. She¡¯s tearing the ce apart looking for you. If she finds you... well, let¡¯s not let that happen."


    Eliana pulled back, her honey eyes brimming with tears. "I know. I was just talking to a friend¡ªhe¡¯sing to get me. But Rafael... I tried his phone but..."


    ra shook her head sadly, her hands gripping Eliana¡¯s arms. "His phone¡¯s off, same as James¡¯s. They¡¯re probably handling some business, undercover or something. You¡¯re on your own right now, miss. But I¡¯m not letting you face this alone. Come on, I¡¯ll help you escape. We have to hurry; they¡¯re checking the upper floors first, but it won¡¯t be long."


    Eliana nced down at herself¡ªstill in the fluffy bathrobe and slippers from the night before, her curly hair tousled and damp. "I¡¯m not even dressed. What if they see me?"


    "No time for that," ra urged, tugging her hand. "Follow me. Stay quiet, stay low."


    They slipped out of the bathroom, Eliana¡¯s slippers whispering against the carpet as they crossed the bedroom. The door to the hallway was ajar, and ra peeked out, her finger to her lips. "Coast is clear¡ªfor now."


    They moved like shadows down the corridor, ra leading the way with the practiced stealth of someone who¡¯d navigated this mansion¡¯s secrets for years. Instead of the main staircase, ra veered toward a narrow service door hidden behind a tapestry depicting ancient hunts¡ªironic, Eliana thought bitterly. It creaked open to reveal a dimly lit back stairwell, used by staff to move unseen. This route was different from the one Eliana used when she escaped the mansion before.


    "Down here," ra whispered, her voice echoing softly off the stone walls. "It leads to the kitchens, then out to the gardens. But we can¡¯t go straight¡ªMrs Vexley got eyes everywhere."


    Eliana¡¯s pulse raced as they descended, the air growing cooler andced with the faint scent of baking bread from below. At the bottom, ra paused, listening. Voices drifted from the kitchen¡ªmaids chattering nervously about the search. "Not that way," ra muttered. She pulled Eliana into a side passage, a forgotten utility corridor lined with pipes and dusty crates. "This old tunnel runs under the east wing. It was for the original staff back in the day¡ªleads right to the greenhouse. From there, a gate to the outer grounds. No one uses it anymore; overgrown with ivy. Perfect cover."


    Eliana nodded, her breath hitching. "ra, you¡¯re a lifesaver. How do you know all this?"


    ra offered a small, wry smile as they hurried along, the dim bulbs flickering overhead. "Been here longer than most. Seen the Vexleys¡¯ dirtyundry¡ªliterally and figuratively. You remind me of my elder sister, miss. Kind, but too trusting. Can¡¯t let them break you."


    They emerged into the greenhouse, the air humid and thick with the scent of orchids and ferns. ss walls shimmered with morning light, but ra steered them toward a rusted side door camouged by climbing vines. She pushed it open with a grunt, revealing a narrow path through the manicured gardens, bordered by tall hedges that formed a natural maze.


    "Here," ra said, thrusting a familiar box into Eliana¡¯s hands¡ªher old packing box, taped shut but bulging slightly. "I helped you pack this in your room earlier. Grabbed it when I started hearing themotion. Thought you might need it if things went south."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened in shock and gratitude, clutching the box like a treasure. "ra... I don¡¯t know what to say. Thank you. This means everything."


    ra squeezed her shoulder, her eyes misty. "No time for tears. Run, dear. Get as far as you can¡ªmake sure Mrs Vexley doesn¡¯t spot you. Stay safe. And if you ever need anything..."


    "I will," Eliana promised, hugging her onest time. "You¡¯re family to me now."


    With that, ra slipped back inside, the door clicking shut. Eliana bolted down the path, the box awkward under her arm, her robe pping like a g of surrender. She ran until the mansion was a distant silhouette, then ducked behind a cluster of rose bushes, their thorns pricking at her skin like tiny warnings.


    Panting, she ripped open the box, pulling out a faded gray hoodie and a pair of worn jeans¡ªremnants of her old life, simple and unassuming. She shrugged off the robe, the cool morning air raising goosebumps on her warm brown skin. Hurriedly, she tugged on the jeans, zipping them with shaking hands, then pulled the hoodie over her head, its fabric soft and familiar against her curls. Slippers discarded for bare feet¡ªbetter for silence¡ªshe shouldered the box again and kept running, thorns and gravel biting into her soles.


    As she dialed Henry¡¯s number once more, her voice breathless over the line, "Henry? I¡¯m out. Heading toward the main road¡ªhurry!"


    The estate¡¯s gates loomed ahead, freedom tantalizingly close, but the shadows of betrayal lingered, chaining her heart even as she fled.

 Chapter 91: The Runaway

    <h4>Chapter 91: The Runaway</h4>


    The morning sun hovered just above the rooftops, spilling a hazy gold across the restless city. Eliana emerged from the estate¡¯s shadow like a fugitive breaking free of a cage, the battered packing box pressed tight against her chest. Gravel and thorns bit into her bare feet, but she barely noticed¡ªpain was easier than looking back.


    The streets beyond the Vexley gates roared to life around her, loud and unapologetic. Cars honked, engines growled, and strangers brushed past with clipped conversations and hurried footsteps. The air was covered with exhaust, fried dough, and the bitter promise of strong coffee from corner vendors. It was chaos, but it was hers¡ªraw, unfiltered freedom.


    <fn4e5e> Chapters first released on F?ndNovel</fn4e5e>


    Her hand trembled as she lifted it, gging down a yellow cab that swerved to the curb with a squeal of tired brakes. Sliding into the back seat, she tugged her faded gray hoodie low over her curls as though the fabric could shield her from the past clinging to her skin. The box stayed locked in her grip, her only anchor in a world that suddenly felt too vast, too alive, and too uncertain.


    "Where to, miss?" the driver asked, ncing at her disheveled appearance in the rearview mirror.


    Eliana¡¯s voice was barely a whisper, her honey eyes darting nervously. "The nearest coffee shop... something quiet. Like, um, Brew Haven on Elm Street."


    The cab lurched forward, and Eliana pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. She texted Henry the address, her heart pounding. "Meet me here. Please. Hurry."


    Minutester, the cab pulled up to the quaint coffee shop, its windows steamed from the inside, the aroma of fresh brews wafting out. Eliana paid with crumpled bills from her box, stepping out onto the sidewalk just as Henry¡¯s sleek gray sedan screeched to a halt nearby. He burst from the car, his tall frame cutting through the morning crowd, his sharp features etched with worry under his warm eyes.


    "Eliana!" Henry called, his voice breaking as he spotted her huddled by the entrance, looking small and lost in her oversized hoodie.


    She turned, her expressive eyes filling with tears at the sight of him. Without a word, Henry closed the distance in three long strides, engulfing her in his strong arms. Eliana copsed against his chest, her body shaking with sobs that she¡¯d held back for so long. The world blurred around them¡ªthe chatter of patrons entering the shop, the distant siren of a passing ambnce¡ªas he held her tightly, his hand stroking her back in soothing circles.


    "Oh, Henry," she whispered through her tears, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I... I didn¡¯t know who else to call. Everything¡¯s falling apart."


    "Shh, it¡¯s okay," Henry murmured, his own voice filled with so much emotion. He pulled back slightly, cupping her soft, face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "You¡¯re safe now. What happened? Tell me everything, but first, let¡¯s get you out of here. This ce is too exposed."


    Eliana nodded, sniffling as she clung to his arm. "I escaped the mansion. Mrs. Vexley... she¡¯s after me. Rafael¡¯s gone, and I... I just ran."


    Henry¡¯s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone gentle. "Come on. My car¡¯s right there. We¡¯ll talk at my ce¡ªit¡¯s secure, and no one will find us."


    He guided her to the sedan, opening the door for her with a protective nce around. As they drove through the city, the skyline shifting from modest shops to towering skyscrapers, Eliana stared out the window, her mind a whirlwind of fear and relief. Henry reached over, squeezing her hand. "You¡¯re not alone anymore, Eliana. Whatever¡¯s going on, we¡¯ll figure it out."


    The drive ended at a gleaming high-rise in the heart of the upscale district, where doormen in crisp uniforms nodded respectfully as Henry led her inside. The elevator whisked them up to the penthouse, the doors opening to a sprawling space that screamed quiet luxury¡ªfloor-to-ceiling windows offering panoramic views of the city, sleek marble floors, modern art on the walls, and plush leather furniture arranged around a firece. The air was scented with fresh linen and a hint of citrus from a diffuser. It was worlds away from the opulent but oppressive Vexley mansion; this felt warm, lived-in, with bookshelves lined with medical journals and a grand piano in the corner.


    "Wee to my home," Henry said softly, helping her out of her hoodie and settling her onto the oversized couch. "My parents are upstate in their home¡ªold family estate. They¡¯ve always been... well,fortable. Dad¡¯s in finance, Mom¡¯s a phnthropist. This ce is mine, though. Make yourselffortable."


    Eliana looked around, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and difort. "Henry, this is... incredible. I feel like I don¡¯t belong here, in my ratty jeans and all."


    He chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension with a bit of humor. "Hey, those jeans have character. Better than some of the designer nonsense I¡¯ve seen at gs. Want some tea? Or coffee? You look like you could use something warm."


    She managed a weak smile. "Tea would be great. Thank you, Henry. For everything. Picking me up, bringing me here... I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you."


    As he busied himself in the open-concept kitchen, pouring hot water over a chamomile bag, he nced back at her. "You don¡¯t have to thank me. I¡¯ve known you since college, Eliana. Remember Jason¡¯s numerous parties? You were the one who made those nights fun, dancing like no one was watching. I¡¯ve always... cared about you."


    Eliana¡¯s cheeks flushed slightly, but her expression turned somber as she epted the steaming mug he handed her. She wrapped her hands around it, drawingfort from the warmth. "Henry, I... I don¡¯t know what to do now. Rafael¡ªhe¡¯s away on business, I think. Part of me wants to go back when he returns, to exin everything. But another part... I just want to disappear from his life. It¡¯s all soplicated."


    Henry sat beside her, his warm eyes searching hers. "Why go back? From what you¡¯ve told me before, it sounds like a cage there. Talk to me."


    She took a shaky breath, her voiceced with emotion. "My father, Henry. My Papa... he¡¯s still in the hospital. Like I mentioned before, Rafael¡¯s been paying for his care¡ªthe treatments, the room, everything. Without that money, Papa wouldn¡¯t make it. I can¡¯t just abandon him. If I leave Rafael for good, what happens then? I¡¯m trapped."


    Henry¡¯s face hardened with resolve, but his tone remained calm. He pulled out his phone, dialing a number without hesitation. "I won¡¯t let that happen. Give me a second."


    Eliana watched, confused, as he spoke into the phone. "Marcus? It¡¯s Henry. I need you to arrange a transfer for Frank Bet from Golden Heart Hospital to our family¡¯s private facility. Make it happen within the hour¡ªconfidential, no traces. No one knows who or where he¡¯s going. Understood? Good."


    He hung up, turning back to her with a reassuring smile. Eliana¡¯s brown eyes widened in shock, her mug nearly slipping from her grasp. "Henry, what are you doing? You can¡¯t just¡ª"


    "I just did," he said gently, cing a hand on her arm. "Your father¡¯s hospital is changed now. Our family¡¯s clinic is top-tier¡ªbest doctors, no questions asked. You don¡¯t have to be indebted to Rafael anymore. No more living in fear, Eliana. You don¡¯t have to go back to that house, to that life."


    Her voice rose, a mix of gratitude and protest, tears welling up again. "But now I¡¯ll be indebted to you! Henry, I can¡¯t ept this. I don¡¯t want to owe anyone, not after everything. It¡¯s too much."


    Henry shook his head firmly, his expression earnest. "No, Eliana. You¡¯re not indebted to me in any way. This is just me helping a friend¡ªsomeone I care about deeply. You can leave anytime you want. Walk out that door right now, and I won¡¯t stop you. With me, there¡¯s no fear, no chains. You decide to stay or go; it¡¯s your choice. But all I want is your happiness. I don¡¯t want you going back to Rafael¡¯s house, living in that shadow anymore. You¡¯ve suffered enough."


    Eliana opened her mouth to argue, her mind racing with objections¡ªhow could she burden him like this? How could she trust another man with her life after all the betrayals? But suddenly, the room spun, a wave of dizziness crashing over her like a cold wave. She staggered, her hand flying to her forehead as her vision blurred.


    "Whoa, Eliana!" Henry eximed, leaping to his feet and catching her before she could fall. He guided her back to the couch, his strong arms supporting her weight. "Easy, sit down. Breathe."


    She sank into the cushions, her face pale against her warm brown skin, trying to wave him off with a forced smile¡ªjust like she¡¯d done with Rafael so many times before. "I¡¯m fine, Henry. Really. Just... tired from all the running. It¡¯ll pass."


    But Henry, with his aspiring doctor¡¯s instincts, wasn¡¯t fooled. He knelt in front of her, his fingers gently checking her pulse at her wrist, then pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. "Your heart¡¯s racing, and you¡¯re mmy. Are you okay? How are you feeling? Be honest with me."


    Eliana hesitated, her full lips pressing into a thin line. She averted her eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie. "It¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ve been a bit offtely, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯s stress."


    Henry¡¯s warm eyes narrowed with concern, his voice firm but kind. "Eliana, I¡¯m training to be a doctor¡ªI know when something¡¯s not right. How long have you been feeling dizzy? Any other symptoms? Nausea? Headaches?"


    She sighed, her shoulders slumping as the emotional weight pressed down. "Okay, fine. Yes, I¡¯ve been throwing up recently... mornings mostly. And dizzy almost all the time. But Henry, it¡¯s probably just anxiety or something I ate. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing serious."


    Henry¡¯s eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing his handsome features, but he kept hisposure, his tone steady and professional. "That doesn¡¯t sound like nothing. We need to run some tests¡ªblood work, maybe a quick exam. Just to be sure."


    Eliana shook her head, panic edging into her voice. "No, Henry. I don¡¯t want to make a fuss. I¡¯m fine, really. Let¡¯s not overreact."


    He took her hands in his, his grip warm and reassuring, his eyes pleading. "Please, Eliana. Do it for me. I need to know you¡¯re okay. After everything you¡¯ve been through, I can¡¯t just ignore this. Let me help¡ªit¡¯s what I do."


    She searched his face, seeing the genuine worry, the unspoken affection that had lingered since their college days. Her resistance crumbled, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Okay... for you. But only because you asked so nicely."


    Henry smiled, relief washing over him as he squeezed her hands. "Thank you. I¡¯ll set it up right away. You¡¯re going to be alright¡ªI promise."


    As the city buzzed below them, the penthouse wrapped in a fragile peace, Eliana leaned back against the couch, her mind swirling with uncertainties and the thoughts of Rafael. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn¡¯t feel entirely alone.

 Chapter 92: Unexpected News

    <h4>Chapter 92: Unexpected News</h4>


    Henry Jackson¡¯s smooth gray sedan glided through the afternoon traffic like a shadow slipping between beams of light. Skyscrapers loomed on either side, their ss facades catching the sun and tossing it back in fractured shards. Inside, the city noise dulled to a distant hum, swallowed by leather seats and the low purr of the engine.


    Eliana Bet sat curled in the passenger seat, her hoodie zipped tight though it did little against the chill that had settled in her bones. Her fingers fidgeted restlessly in herp, twisting the frayed hem as though it might anchor her spiraling thoughts.


    Henry hands rested steady on the wheel, long fingers tapping lightly against the leather. Every few blocks he cut her a sidelong nce, his sharp profile softened by concern. He¡¯d always had that look¡ªback in college, when she was pulling all-nighters in the library and he¡¯d show up with coffee and a lopsided grin.


    "Eliana, we¡¯re almost there," he said, voice low, carrying the same warmth as the chamomile tea he¡¯d made her earlier that morning. "My family¡¯s hospital isn¡¯t far. No red tape, no endless waiting rooms. Straight to the right people, straight to the care you need."


    Her lips parted, hesitant. "Henry, I... I don¡¯t know. This feels like too much. I¡¯m probably just tired. We could turn back¡ª"


    He shook his head, his tone firm but not unkind. "Not happening. You nearly copsed back at my apartment. I¡¯m your friend¡ªand a soon-to-be doctor. I¡¯d be breaking every rule in the book if I let you brush this off. Besides," he added, sparing her a nce, "your dad¡¯s already on his way there. Marcus confirmed it. The transfer¡¯s in motion. He¡¯ll be in the best hands too."


    Her chest tightened at the mention of her father. The memory rose unbidden: his thin frame swallowed by sterile white sheets, the dimming spark in the eyes that once lit up her entire world. She swallowed hard, blinking against the burn behind her eyes.


    <fn9bf8> This content belongs to F?ndNovel</fn9bf8>


    "Papa..." Her voice wavered. Then softer, almost ashamed: "Thank you, Henry. Really. But I hate feeling like a burden."


    "You¡¯re not a burden," he replied, reaching over to give her hand a quick squeeze before returning it to the wheel. "You¡¯re Eliana¡ªthe girl who always lit up my day every time I set my eyes on you. Remember that time at Jason¡¯s when you dragged me onto the floor for that ridiculous line dance? I stepped on your toes twice, and you justughed it off. You have always been so kind and nice to me. Let me do this for you, please."


    A faint chuckle escaped her, the memory a brief flicker of light in her storm-clouded mind. "Yeah, well, you weren¡¯t half bad once you stopped thinking so hard about it. Also, I didn¡¯t do anything out of the ordinary, Henry. But if this means so much to you, fine. I¡¯ll stop being stubborn."


    The car pulled up to a gleaming modern building, its facade a blend of ss and steel that screamed quiet luxury. "Jackson Memorial Clinic," the sign read, though it felt more like a high-end spa than a hospital. Henry parked in a reserved spot near the entrance, then hurried around to help her out, his arm steady around her waist as she swayed slightly on her feet.


    "Easy there," he murmured, his warm eyes scanning her face. "I¡¯ve got you."


    Inside, the lobby was a far cry from the crowded, fluorescent-lit hospitals Eliana knew. Polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of chandeliers, and the air smelled faintly ofvender rather than antiseptic. A receptionist in a crisp uniform looked up with a professional smile. "Mr. Jackson, good to see you. And this must be Miss Bet?"


    Henry nodded. "Yes, Sarah. We¡¯re here for a full check-up. Priority, please. And my father¡¯s already cleared the transfer for Frank Bet¡ªhe should be arriving soon."


    "Of course," Sarah replied efficiently, tapping at her keyboard. "Dr. Ellis is ready in Suite 3. Right this way."


    They were whisked down a hallway lined with abstract art and plush seating areas. Eliana leaned on Henry¡¯s arm, her legs still shaky, her mind racing with a whirlwind of fears¡ªabout Rafael, about Mirabel, about her father, about the life she¡¯d fled from just hours ago. The suite was spacious, with arge exam table, state-of-the-art equipment, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured garden.


    Dr. Ellis, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense bob and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed sses, greeted them warmly. "Henry, always a pleasure. And you must be Eliana. Let¡¯s get you settled. From what Henry described on the phone, we¡¯ll start with vitals, blood work, and a quick ultrasound if needed. Sound good?"


    Eliana nodded weakly, perching on the exam table as a nurse bustled in to draw blood and take her blood pressure. Henry hovered nearby, his athletic frame leaning against the wall, arms crossed in a pose that screamed protective concern. "You¡¯ll be fine," he whispered to her. "This ce is top-notch. My family¡¯s poured everything into it."


    Thirty minutes ticked by in a blur of quiet efficiency¡ªfar faster than any public hospital wait. Eliana fidgeted with the edge of her paper gown, her curly hair falling over her shoulders like a protective veil. Henry paced subtly, checking his phone for updates on Frank¡¯s transfer. "He¡¯s en route," he said atst, pocketing the device. "Should be here within the hour. No traces back to Rafael¡¯s setup¡ªclean as a whistle."


    Before Eliana could respond, Dr. Ellis returned, clipboard in hand, her expression neutral but with a hint of something unreadable. "Eliana, Henry¡ªresults are in. Everything looks stable overall¡ªno major issues with your vitals. But there¡¯s one thing we need to discuss."


    Eliana¡¯s heart pounded, her big eyes widening as Henry instinctively moved to her side, taking her hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, grounding her as she felt another wave of dizziness threaten. "What is it, Doctor?" she asked, her voiceing out small.


    Dr. Ellis sat on a stool, facing them directly. "Eliana, based on the blood work and your symptoms¡ªdizziness, nausea, fatigue¡ªyou¡¯re pregnant. About three weeks along, by our estimates. Congrattions, if that¡¯s the right word here. We¡¯ll need to schedule follow-ups, prenatal care..."


    The words hung in the air like a thunderp. Eliana¡¯s world tilted, her full lips parting in shock, but no sound came out. Pregnant? Three weeks? Her mind nked, the room¡¯s soft beeps and hums fading into white noise. Henry¡¯s hand tightened around hers, his warm eyes flickering with a storm of emotions she couldn¡¯t yet decipher.


    Dr. Ellis gave them a moment, then stood. "I¡¯ll give you two some privacy. If you have questions, buzz the nurse." She slipped out quietly, the door clicking shut behind her.


    For a long, suspended second, Eliana stared at the wall, her slender frame frozen. Then, like a dam bursting, the panic hit. She yanked her hand free, her breathing in short, ragged gasps. "No... no, this can¡¯t be happening. Pregnant? Me? Oh God, Henry, what am I going to do?"


    Henry turned to her fully, his sharp features etched with worry as he gently grasped her shoulders. "Eliana, hey¡ªbreathe. In and out, like this." He demonstrated, his voice calm despite the ache twisting in his chest. Hearing those words¡ªpregnant¡ªhad shattered something inside him, a quiet dream he¡¯d harbored since he reunited with Eliana crumbling to dust. But he buried it deep, focusing on her, on being the rock she needed.


    She shook her head wildly, tears spilling down her warm brown cheeks. "I can¡¯t be pregnant! Not now! I have so many problems¡ªPapa¡¯s sick, Rafael¡¯s... everything with him is a mess. And now a baby? A baby in the mix? How am I supposed to handle this? I can barely keep myself together!"


    Her voice rose, echoing in the pristine room, her expressive eyes wild with fear. She clutched at her stomach instinctively, as if the tiny life there was both a miracle and a curse. Henry pulled her into his arms without hesitation, his tall frame enveloping her slender one. "Shh, it¡¯s okay. You¡¯re not alone in this. Panic won¡¯t help¡ªlet¡¯s talk it through. You¡¯ve got this strength in you, Eliana. I¡¯ve seen it."


    She sobbed against his chest, her body trembling. "But how? A baby means... everything changes. I wasn¡¯t ready for this. None of it!"


    He stroked her curly hair soothingly, his own heart breaking silently. The woman he¡¯d loved from afar, pregnant with another man¡¯s child¡ªit stung like salt in a wound. But love, he reminded himself, wasn¡¯t about possession. It was about support. "First things first¡ªwho¡¯s the father?" he asked softly, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze.


    Eliana sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Rafael. It¡¯s Rafael¡¯s. Without a doubt. We... we were together, but..."


    Henry nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Okay. And you two¡ªare you dating? Like, officially?"


    She hesitated, her soft heart-shaped face flushing with confusion. "I... I don¡¯t know, Henry. What we have¡ªhad¡ªit¡¯splicated. He¡¯s cold one minute, tender the next. We weren¡¯t exactlybeling it. But now... oh God, now there¡¯s a child."


    Her panic surged again, and she paced the small space, her worn sneakers squeaking on the tile. "I have to go back to him. Tell him about the baby. But if I do, that¡¯s it¡ªour rtionship will never end. He¡¯ll keep me with him there forever. Even though Rafael isn¡¯t bad, my secrets would turn me into his enemy. When he finds out about Mirabel... that she¡¯s my mother? He¡¯ll resent me, Henry. Worse, he might resent the baby. me it for trapping him or something. I can¡¯t let that happen!"


    Henry¡¯s eyes softened with empathy, though a flicker of his own pain shed through. He stepped forward, pulling her into another hug, his arms a safe harbor in the storm. "Eliana, calm down. Don¡¯t jump to conclusions like that. Take a breath¡ªdeep one. Good. Now listen: with the baby in the picture, yeah, things change. It would be wrong to just disappear from Rafael¡¯s life without a word. He deserves to know, and so does the child."


    She pulled back slightly, searching his face. "But how? What do I even say?"


    He cupped her cheek gently, his voice steady and wise beyond his years. "The best thing is to tell him the truth¡ªall of it. Start with the big one: that you¡¯re Mirabel¡¯s daughter. Lay it out, no secrets. Then, tell him about the baby. Give him a chance to react honestly. Hiding it will only make everything worse down the line."


    Eliana¡¯s eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open as if he¡¯d suggested jumping off a cliff. "What? Tell him everything? Henry, that¡¯s... that¡¯s insane! He¡¯ll explode. Or worse, shut downpletely. You don¡¯t know him like I do¡ªhe¡¯s got walls higher than these skyscrapers."


    Henry chuckled softly, trying to inject a bit of levity into the heavy moment. "Hey, if he explodes, at least it¡¯ll be dramatic¡ªlike one of those soap operas we used to mock in college. But seriously, Eliana, truth is the only way forward. You¡¯ve been carrying these burdens alone for too long. Let it out, and see what happens. You¡¯ve got me in your corner, no matter what."


    She stared at him, the shock lingering, her mind reeling at the audacity of his suggestion. The room felt smaller, the weight of the revtion pressing down, but in Henry¡¯s embrace, a fragile seed of hope began to take root.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


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 Chapter 93: A Good Friend

    <h4>Chapter 93: A Good Friend</h4>


    As the smooth ck car rolled away from the sprawling Vexley estate, the morning sun slid across its gleaming hood, scattering reflections like shards of ss over the perfectly trimmedwns. The mansion behind them stood in all its opulent silence¡ªcolumns, marble, and secrets¡ªbut Rafael Vexley didn¡¯t nce back.


    He sat in the back seat, spine stiff as iron, his eyes trained on the road ahead though he wasn¡¯t the one driving. His wheelchair, polished to a cold shine, was folded and strapped neatly beside him¡ªa prop more than a necessity. To the world, it painted him as fragile, broken. To Rafael, it was the perfect disguise, a mask that let people underestimate him. He thrived in their underestimation.


    The interior smelled faintly of leather and expensive cologne, but it couldn¡¯t mask the tension coiled inside the car. James kept both hands steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the asphalt stretching endlessly before them. He didn¡¯t speak. He didn¡¯t need to. The low growl of the engine was the only sound, a rhythmic pulse that filled the silence like a warning drumbeat.


    Rafael slid a hand into the pocket of his tailored jacket. His movements were deliberate, elegant¡ªpracticed. He withdrew his phone, its sleek screen catching a sh of sunlight. A faint smirk curved his lips as his thumb hovered, then pressed with finality. The screen went dark. He switched it offpletely, as if severing a lifeline. No calls. No distractions. No one prying into what came next.


    "Switch it off, James," Rafael said, his voice low andmanding,ced with the cold calction that defined him in moments like these. "You know the drill. Austin¡¯s rules¡ªno exceptions, not even for old friends."


    James nodded, ncing in the rearview mirror as he powered down his own device. "Understood, sir. Last thing we need is Austin¡¯s paranoia kicking in. He¡¯s cautious for a reason, running that mafia empire of his."


    Rafael leaned back, his piercing steel eyes staring out the window. A flicker of memory surfaced, unbidden but vivid. Austin Miller, the head of one of the country¡¯s most formidable underground syndicates, wasn¡¯t just a business associate; he was a ghost from Rafael¡¯s haunted past. They had met in the cold, unforgiving halls of that elite boarding school, a ce that felt more like a prison than an education. Rafael¡¯s father with the push from Mirabel had shipped him there to hide her embarrassment¡ªa blind, vulnerable boy who didn¡¯t fit her perfect family image. Austin¡¯s parents, meanwhile, had sent him as punishment for his rebellious streak, hoping the strict regime would break him.


    But it hadn¡¯t. Instead, it forged an unlikely bond. For a whole year in that ce, Austin had been Rafael¡¯s shield, his broad-shouldered protector Rafael against the cruel taunts of their peers. "Hey, leave the blind kid alone," Austin would growl, his voice already carrying the authority that wouldtermand a criminal empire. Rafael, grateful beyond words, had repaid him with quiet loyalty, sharingte-night conversations in the dorms about dreams bigger than their circumstances. "One day, I¡¯ll get out of here and build something unstoppable," Rafael had whispered once, his hands clenched in frustration. Austin hadughed, pping him on the back. "And I¡¯ll be the guy making sure no one messes with you, Raf. Blind or not, you¡¯re sharper than half these idiots."


    Then, Rafael¡¯s grandfather had swooped in like a savior, pulling him from that hellhole and back into the world of wealth and opportunity. Rafael had thought that was the end of it¡ªuntil ten yearster, when a tall, imposing figure strode into the lobby of Vexley Enterprises, demanding a one-on-one with the CEO. Austin Miller, now a kingpin in the shadows, was shopping for top-tier security tech to fortify his sprawling properties. As they sat across from each other in Rafael¡¯s opulent office, Austin had tilted his head, studying him intently.


    "You look just like this kid I knew back in boarding school," Austin had said, his voice gruff but tinged with nostalgia. "Blind as a bat, same name¡ªRafael. Hell, even the same sarcastic grin and he was fun. I remember one time we snuck into the kitchen and ¡¯borrowed¡¯ the headmaster¡¯s prized whiskey, poured it into the punch bowl at the formal dinner. Chaos ensued."


    Rafael¡¯s heart had skipped a beat. He lowered his voice, a rare smile cracking his facade. "It was apple juice we swapped it with, Austin. But yeah, I remember. And I¡¯m that Rafael. Guess we both escaped that dump in our own ways."


    <fn4d61> This text is hosted at find[?]ovel</fn4d61>


    Austin¡¯s eyes had widened, then crinkled with genuine joy. "No shit! Raf, you sly bastard. Look at you now¡ªrunning empires while I¡¯m... well, running mine." Theirughter had echoed through the room, reigniting a friendship tempered by time and trials. But Rafael was no fool; Austin¡¯s world was drenched in blood and betrayal. He set invisible boundaries¡ªmutual respect, asional favors, but never full immersion. Austin, for his part, understood. He was dangerous, yes, but loyal to those who earned it.


    Now, in the present, Rafael was cashing in one of those long-shelved favors, the kind you didn¡¯t waste on anything small.


    He remembered the weight of the moment as clearly as if it were still unfolding. Yesterday, after James had patched him through to Austin¡¯s office on a secure line, Rafael¡¯s voice had been low, deliberate, steady enough to disguise the storm underneath.


    "Austin," he¡¯d said, his tone clipped but burning, "I need your help."


    There had been a pause on the other end, a silence thick with calction. Men like Austin didn¡¯t move without knowing the stakes. Rafael hadn¡¯t left him guessing for long.


    "I want you to find a man. Jason Asher." He¡¯d spat the name like venom, every syble heavy with contempt. His fingers had tightened against the armrest of his chair until his knuckles nched. "He touched what is mine. He dared."


    Rafael¡¯s voice had darkened then, hisposure fraying just enough to let Austin hear the edge of the fury he¡¯d been choking back. "Get him to confess. Every detail. Make him admit what he plotted¡ªthe kidnapping of my caregiver... of Eliana Bet." The hesitation in his voice had betrayed the crack in his armor, the way her name lodged itself somewhere dangerous inside him.


    The silence that followed stretched thin before Rafael finished, his tone like steel drawn across stone. "Make him talk, Austin. And when he does¡ªI want that brat to pay. I want him to know what it means to cross me."


    Austin had chuckled darkly. "For you, Raf? Consider it done. My boys are pros at loosening tongues."


    <i>To be continued... </i>

 Chapter 94: Denial

    <h4>Chapter 94: Denial</h4>


    The car wound through the city outskirts, finally pulling up to a sprawling estate that screamed opulence masking menace. It wasn¡¯t Austin¡¯s real home¡ªthat was a fortress buried deeper in secrecy¡ªbut a "business" property: a massive house with marble columns, a mechanic¡¯s garage humming with activity, and hefty guards patrolling every corner like silent sentinels. James helped Rafael into his wheelchair, maintaining the charade, and they were escorted inside by two burly men who nodded respectfully.


    <fne05b> N?w ?ovel chapt?rs are published on f?ndnovel</fne05b>


    Austin waited in his office, a room lined with dark wood panels and shelves of antique books that hid safes full of secrets. He rose from behind a massive oak desk, his frame as imposing as ever¡ªbroad shoulders, a scar tracing his jaw from some long-ago skirmish. "Rafael, my man," he boomed, sping Rafael¡¯s hand firmly. "Wheelchair and all¡ªstill pushing back when the world tries to push you down, huh? Smart as ever."


    Rafael allowed a tight smile, his voice steady. "Some habits die hard, Austin. Thanks for handling this. Jason Asher¡ªdid he crack?"


    Austin¡¯s expression darkened as he poured two sses of scotch, handing one to Rafael. He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "About that. My guys have been at him for hours. Beat him within an inch of his life¡ªbruises, blood, the works. But the bastard¡¯s sticking to his story like glue. Swears up and down he never ordered any kidnapping on your girl, Eliana. ims he¡¯s innocent as amb."


    Rafael¡¯s grip tightened on the ss, his steel eyes narrowing behind the feigned cloudiness. "That¡¯s bullshit. He¡¯s lying. Jason¡¯s been scheming from the start¡ªcheating, manipting. He has to be behind it. Let me talk to him myself. I¡¯ll get the truth out."


    Austin studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, Raf. But remember, this is my turf¡ªno phones, no slip-ups. Follow me." He gestured to James. "You too, quiet man. Stay close."


    Rafael wheeled after Austin, James trailing silently, his face impassive. They moved through thebyrinthine house, passing corridors lined with artwork that could fund a small nation. Hefty men stood at every turn¡ªtattooed enforcers with eyes like hawks, nodding deferentially to Austin. The air grew thicker,ced with the faint metallic tang of oil from the adjacent garage where mechanics tinkered on armored vehicles. "Impressive setup," Rafael remarked dryly as they descended a staircase. "Still paranoid about wiretaps?"


    Austinughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the walls. "Paranoid? Nah, just smart. In my line of work, one loose end and you¡¯re done. Remember boarding school? Those pricks who bullied you¡ªI handled a few after you left. Quietly."


    Rafael¡¯s lips twitched. "I never asked for details. Probably for the best."


    They reached a reinforced door guarded by two stone-faced sentinels. Austin nodded, and they stepped aside. "In here," he said, pushing it open. "Your boy¡¯s waiting."


    The room was a stark contrast to the luxury above¡ªa dimly lit chamber with concrete floors stained from years of "interrogations." In the center, Jason Asher hung limply, his wrists bound above his head to a long metal rod spanning the ceiling. His once-golden-boy charm was shattered: blonde hair matted with sweat and blood, hazel eyes swollen shut, his gym-toned body bruised and battered, clothes torn and stained. He dangled like a broken puppet, breaths ragged and shallow.


    A burly interrogator stood nearby, knuckles raw from his work. He nced at Austin, who jerked his chin. "Wake him up, Ro. Our guest wants a chat."


    Ro grinned wickedly, cracking his knuckles before delivering a sharp punch to Jason¡¯s gut. Jason gasped awake, his body jerking against the chains with a metallic rattle. "Ah! Please... no more," he wheezed, his voice hoarse and broken.


    Ro leaned in, his face inches from Jason¡¯s. "One more time, pretty boy. Why¡¯d you try to kidnap Eliana Bet? Spill it, or I¡¯ll make sure you never walk straight again."


    Jason¡¯s head lolled, tears mixing with the blood trickling from his split lip. "I... I didn¡¯t! I swear on my life, I never ordered any kidnapping. Eliana... she¡¯s my ex, yeah, but I wouldn¡¯t... God, please believe me. I¡¯m telling the truth!"


    Austin crossed his arms, watching impassively. "See what I mean, Raf? Kid¡¯s been singing the same tune all night. My guys have tried everything¡ªfists, threats, even a little water y. Nada."


    Rafael wheeled closer, his face a mask of cold fury. "Jason," he said, his voice slicing through the air like a sharp ice. "Look at me. You know who I am. Rafael Vexley. The man whose life you¡¯ve been trying to upend. Confess. You plotted to take Eliana¡ªyour jealousy, your entitlement. Admit it, and maybe my friends here will go easy."


    Jason¡¯s head lolled forward before he forced it up again, every movement dragging a wince from his battered frame. His swollen eyes struggled to focus, lids puffed and heavy, but recognition finally flickered through the haze of pain.


    "Vexley?" His voice cracked, a hoarse whisper scraped raw. "It¡¯s... it¡¯s you?"


    A bitter, brokenugh rattled in his chest. "The blind cripple she¡¯s... shacking up with?" The words stumbled out, part defiance, part disbelief.


    Then his bravado crumbled, and panic bled through. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, trembling. "This... this is about her, isn¡¯t it? Eliana?"


    He shook his head frantically, chains clinking as his wrists jerked. "No! I didn¡¯t do it! Kidnap? That wasn¡¯t me!" His words tumbled faster, desperate, unsteady. "I screwed up, yeah¡ªI cheated on her, with Sarai. Stupid. The worst mistake I ever made." His voice broke on the admission, shame threading through the fear.


    "But hurt her?" His eyes glistened, wide with terror, pleading with whatever shred of mercy might be left in the room. "Never. I¡¯d never touch her like that. I love her¡ªGod, I love her so much. Please..." His voice dropped to a desperate rasp, raw and shaking. "Please, just let me go. I swear, I don¡¯t know anything. I don¡¯t."


    Ro nced at Austin, who nodded. Another punchnded, this time to Jason¡¯s ribs, eliciting a guttural cry. "Liar!" Ro snarled. "Boss says you nned it. Details¡ªnow!"


    Jason sobbed, his body trembling. "I¡¯m not lying! Check my phones, my emails¡ªnothing! I swear, it¡¯s the truth!"


    They continued the barrage¡ªpunches, ps, questions hurled like weapons. Jason¡¯s denials echoed, unwavering despite the pain. Rafael watched, confusion gnawing at his gut. Why wouldn¡¯t he break? Jason was spoiled, narcissistic¡ªnot built for this. Yet here he was, clinging to innocence like a lifeline. Rafael¡¯s mind raced, his emotional scars prickling. Was he wrong? No, impossible. Jason had to be guilty Eliana, Sarai and Bianca said so.


    As the beating intensified, a faint beep cut through the chaos. James stiffened, pulling a small pager from his pocket¡ªthe only device Austin permitted, for emergencies. He scanned the message, his face paling slightly. Stepping to Rafael¡¯s side, he leaned down, voice urgent but low. "Sir, something important¡¯se up. We need to talk¡ªnow."


    Rafael¡¯s eyes flicked to him, a storm brewing. "What is it, James? This better be worth interrupting."


    But James¡¯s expression said it all¡ªtrouble, the kind that could shatter everything.


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