Chapter 136
Rafael Vexley stood rooted to the polished marble floor of his corner office, a fortress of glass and steel high above the restless city. The skyline stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows—towers of light stitched together like a glittering web, beautiful and treacherous all at once. A low hum from the air conditioning filled the silence, a sterile, artificial cold that couldn’t touch the feverish heat gathering in his chest.
His jaw tightened. Those storm-grey eyes of his—usually calm, calculated, unreadable—were locked on the phone in his hand as though it were a live explosive. The message stared back at him, every word searing itself into his mind like a brand.
“Rafael, I don’t know if you’ll believe me or not… but what I wanted to tell you all this while is that I’m pregnant. And the baby is definitely yours p>
Pregnant.
The word didn’t just echo—it thundered through his skull, reverberating in the hollow space behind his ribs. It was as if the city outside had gone quiet, as if every light had dimmed just enough for that one word to consume the entire room.
His fingers clenched around the phone. The world that he’d spent years constructing—flawless, controlled, untouchable—suddenly felt fragile. Eliana’s voice, her laughter, every stolen glance between them surged up like a flood he hadn’t braced for.
He blinked hard—once, twice—as if he could force reality to reshape itself. But the message glared back at him, unwavering, a cruel truth carved in digital ink. His fingers, hands that never faltered when sealing deals or crushing rivals, now trembled as he tightened his grip on the device. A thin crack of air escaped his chest. The office—his sanctuary, his battlefield—seemed to shrink around him. The mahogany desk that had witnessed his triumphs and the leather chairs that hosted his power plays now felt like silent jurors, watching his composure unravel.
How could this be? He had spent years forging walls of steel around his heart, a fortress no one could breach. Yes he lowered those walls for Eliana but yesterday, he had made up his mind—sworn—to stop looking back, to keep Eliana at arm’s length, to pour every ounce of his strength into outmaneuvering the vultures circling his empire. But Eliana Bennett, with a single message, had knocked over the board entirely. One revelation—and every carefully laid strategy lay scattered at his feet.
“James… what have I done?” Rafael’s voice cut through the charged silence, rough and unsteady, the words scraping against his throat like gravel. His hand jerked as he thrust the phone toward his most trusted ally.
James, still catching his breath from bursting into the room moments earlier, leaned forward, his brow furrowing under the harsh fluorescent lights. The lights painting hard lines across his face, deepening the furrow between his brows. Behind them, the city glimmered indifferently, a distant constellation.
On the desk, the tablet displaying the damning video footage lay forgotten, its glow fading into darkness like an accusation retreating into the shadows—waiting.
James took the phone gingerly, his eyes scanning the text. His face, usually a mask of professional composure, slackened in shock. “Sir… this… So it’s true? I mean, pregnant? With your child?” He handed it back, his voice a whisper laced with astonishment. “Did you… know anything about this p>
Rafael shook his head slowly, his dark wavy hair falling slightly over his forehead, disheveled for the first time today. “Know? How could I? She tried to tell me, begged me to listen, and I His words trailed off, swallowed by a wave of regret that crashed over him like a tidal surge. He paced to the window, his athletic frame making a long shadow across the carpet. The city below pulsed with life—cars weaving like threads in a tapestry he controlled from afar—but inside, chaos reigned.
Suddenly, a memory flooded back, vivid and unbidden, pulling him into the past like a riptide. It had been two and a half months ago, in the dim glow of his bedroom at the estate. Eliana had been there, her warm brown skin flushed against the silk sheets, her honey-brown eyes sparkling with a mix of desire and hesitation. They had been intimate, their bodies entwining in a rare moment of vulnerability for him. But then, midway through, her face had paled, a sheen of sweat breaking on her soft heart face.
“Eliana? What’s wrong?” he had asked, his voice husky with concern as he propped himself up on one elbow, his chiseled jaw tightening.
She had clutched her stomach, bolting from the bed to the bathroom, the door slamming behind her. The sound of retching echoed faintly, and when she emerged, her lips were pressed into a thin line, her long curls tousled and damp.
“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? The hospital?” He had reached for her, his piercing eyes searching her face in the low light.
She had shaken her head, forcing a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s nothing, Rafael. Really. Just… something I ate, maybe. Or I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m fine p>
He had noticed her pallor then, the way her slender frame seemed more fragile under her modest nightgown. “You look exhausted. Pale. Let me call someone p>
“No, please,” she had insisted, her voice soft but firm, crawling back into bed and curling against him. “It’s nothing. Let’s just… go to bed p>
But now, in the harsh light of hindsight, Rafael recalculated the timeline with the precision of a CEO analyzing market trends. Two and a half months. It aligned perfectly with their intimacy—the only time he had let his guard down enough to be truly close with her. The color drained from his face, leaving his handsome features ashen, like marble under moonlight. His heart pounded, a drumbeat of realization that drowned out everything else.
“James,” he said, turning abruptly, his voice a raw rasp. “That night… about two and a half months ago. She was sick, throwing up. I thought it was nothing—she swore it was. But now… God, it matches. The pregnancy… it has to have happened during that time p>
James’s eyes widened, his reserved demeanor cracking as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sir, that’s… that’s possible. But we need to confirm. This changes everything. If she’s carrying your child p>
Rafael snatched his phone back, his fingers flying across the screen. He dialed Eliana’s number, the ringtone mocking him with its endless trill. Once. Twice. On the third attempt, a robotic voice cut in: “The number you have dialed does not exist.” He stared at the device, confusion knitting his brows. “What the hell? It worked before. Why now p>
To be continued p>