Chapter 214
Eliana plastered a sweet, radiant smile on her face, her honey eyes sparkling with feigned joy. It was a mask so convincing it sent a chill down Rafael’s spine—he’d seen her genuine smiles, the ones that lit up rooms like sunshine, but this? This was calculated, a performance that terrified him more than any boardroom battle. “Oh, we’re just so excited,” she said sweetly, her voice carrying over the din with effortless charm.
James stepped in smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the chaos. “Ladies and gentlemen, the couple appreciates your interest. They’ll be happy to answer all your questions after the court ceremony. For now, please give them space p>
With that, James took the handles of the wheelchair, wheeling Rafael forward as Eliana walked beside them, her arm linked loosely with his. They ascended the ramp to the courthouse entrance, the grand doors swinging open to reveal a polished lobby echoing with the footsteps of clerks and lawyers. The air inside was cooler, scented with old wood and paper, a stark contrast to the emotional whirlwind they’d left behind in the car.
The ceremony was set in a modest courtroom reserved for civil unions, but nothing about it felt modest with Rafael Vexley’s name attached. The judge, a stern woman in her sixties with silver-streaked hair and wire-rimmed glasses, stood at the bench, her robes crisp and authoritative. Flanking her were two witnesses: James, steadfast and silent, and Jax, who had arrived moments earlier in a discreet SUV with the rest of Rafael’s men—Oliver, Will, Liam, Kai, and Viktor lingering in the shadows outside like an invisible guard. Jax, the orchestrator with his sharp eyes and easy confidence, nodded reassuringly as he took his place.
The media had been granted limited access, a few select reporters with cameras rolling from the back, capturing every moment for the world to devour. Eliana stood before the judge, her posture straight and composed, while Rafael remained in his wheelchair, his hands clasped tightly to hide their tremor. The room hummed with anticipation, the wooden pews creaking under the weight of observers.
“Do you, Eliana Bennett, take Rafael Vexley to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?” the judge intoned, her voice echoing off the paneled walls.
Eliana turned to Rafael, her expression softening into one of national—no, matrimonial—bliss. She leaned down slightly, her hand cupping his cheek in a gesture so tender it made the cameras whir. “I do,” she said, her voice warm and loving, infused with a sweetness that could melt steel. Her eyes locked onto his, and for a fleeting second, Rafael glimpsed the real emotion beneath—the love she claimed to have buried.
Rafael’s heart pounded, a whirlwind of confusion swirling within him. Was this her? The genuine Eliana, or the actress playing a part? He didn’t know if he should be elated or terrified. “And do you, Rafael Vexley, take Eliana Bennett to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part p>
He swallowed hard, his voice steady despite the storm inside. “I do.” The words felt like a vow and a plea all at once.
The judge nodded approvingly. “By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride p>
Eliana bent down, her full lips brushing Rafael’s in a kiss that started chaste but deepened just enough to draw gasps from the onlookers. Her fingers threaded through his dark wavy hair, pulling him closer, and for that moment, the world faded—the reporters, the witnesses, the lies. Rafael’s hands rose to her waist, holding her as if she might vanish, his heart aching with a mix of joy and fear. She pulled back with a dazzling smile, whispering so only he could hear, “Business, remember p>
The room erupted in applause as rings were exchanged—simple platinum bands that gleamed under the fluorescent lights, symbols of a union forged in fire. James and Jax signed the documents with flourish, their signatures sealing the deal. Flashbulbs popped, capturing Eliana’s adoring gaze on Rafael, her arm around his shoulders as James wheeled him toward the exit. Rafael glanced up at her, his expression a mask of composed happiness, but inside, he was torn. Happy? Yes, because she was his. Scared? Absolutely, because he couldn’t tell where the act ended and the truth began.
As they emerged from the courthouse, the news spread like wildfire. Headlines blared across screens worldwide: “Billionaire Recluse Rafael Vexley Weds Caregiver in Surprise Ceremony!” Social media exploded with clips of the kiss, speculations about the “fairytale romance” between the paralyzed tycoon and the humble beauty who had nursed him with all her love. Pundits dissected every detail—the wheelchair, the sweet smiles, the whispers of hidden depths.
Miles away, in a lavish London hotel suite overlooking the Thames, Mirabel Vexley adjusted her pearl necklace in the gilded mirror. The room was a symphony of opulence: crystal chandeliers forming prisms on silk drapes, a king-sized bed piled with Egyptian cotton, and the faint scent of her signature Chanel perfume lingering in the air. She was preparing for an evening gala, her elegant gown—a deep emerald silk that accentuated her smooth brown skin and immaculately styled hair—hugging her tall, commanding figure. At early fifties, she exuded icy poise, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor as she rehearsed her speech in her mind.
Mirabel Vexley was sure that she only had to be in London until next tomorrow. She was very certain that by tomorrow, Eliana Bennett would come knocking at her door pleading for her mercy. Everyone who crossed her always pleaded for their lives at some point.
A soft knock interrupted her. “Come in,” she called, her voice clipped and authoritative.
Lydia, her efficient secretary—a mousy woman in her thirties with glasses and a tablet perpetually in hand—entered, her face pale. “Mrs. Vexley, you need to see this. It’s… urgent p>
Mirabel turned, arching a perfectly manicured brow. “What is it, Lydia? I’m on a schedule p>
Lydia thrust the tablet forward, a news alert glowing on the screen. The headline screamed: “Rafael Vexley Marries Eliana Bennett in Courthouse Ceremony—Exclusive Footage p>
Mirabel’s eyes scanned the article, her composure cracking like fine china. The video played automatically: Eliana in her gown, Rafael in his suit, the kiss that sealed their vows. Her hand flew to her chest, breath catching in a sharp gasp. The room spun, her vision blurring as a vise tightened around her heart. “No… this can’t be,” she whispered, staggering back until her legs hit the edge of the bed. She collapsed onto it, clutching the pearls as if they could anchor her. Her face drained of color, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. Lydia rushed forward, alarmed. “Mrs. Vexley? Are you alright? Should I call a doctor p>
Mirabel waved her off weakly, but her mind raced—Eliana? The headline struck like lightning. Her abandoned daughter? Married to her stepson? The implications crashed over her: exposure, ruin, the unraveling of every secret she’d buried. Her heart pounded erratically, teetering on the edge of collapse, as the world she’d built threatened to crumble.