Chapter 277
The conference grounds had stopped pretending to be civilized.
What had once been elegant tents and polite applause had exploded into chaos—flashing emergency lights slicing through the night, voices shouting over one another, radios crackling like they were arguing with themselves. Sirens screamed somewhere down the mountain, sharp and relentless, tearing through the crisp alpine air.
Rafael Vexley’s world was coming apart at the seams.
James pushed his wheelchair with urgent precision toward the waiting vehicle that would take them to the eastern trail, where the terrain dropped off into a treacherous ditch. The air smelled of pine sap and wet earth, heavy and metallic, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath. Around them, search teams swarmed the grounds, moving with frantic purpose—organized chaos, the worst kind.
Viktor, ever unflappable, had “borrowed” a rugged ATV from security without asking for permission—or forgiveness. The engine snarled to life, chewing through underbrush as it tore toward the eastern ditch like it had something personal against the forest.
Rafael gripped the side rail, knuckles whitening. His athletic frame was taut with barely restrained fury, every muscle coiled tight. Behind the carefully cultivated illusion of clouded blindness, his steel-grey eyes were sharp, locked on the chaos ahead—rescuers scattering like ants beneath harsh floodlights.
James settled beside him, wire-rimmed glasses fogging slightly in the cold, his usually neat dark hair now a casualty of the moment. Jax occupied the passenger seat, radio pressed to his ear, its static punctuating the tension like a ticking clock. Updates came in bursts—fragmented, urgent, never enough.
Behind them, Oliver, Will, Liam, and Kai vanished into the darkness on foot, shadows slipping between trees, moving fast and silent.
“Faster, Viktor,” Rafael snapped.
The command wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise like a blade. His jaw clenched hard enough to ache, dark waves of hair whipping wildly in the wind.
“If she’s—” His voice caught, just for half a second. Enough to betray him. “If anything’s happened to her or the baby p>
“We’ll get there, boss,” Viktor said calmly, hands firm on the wheel, his voice maddeningly steady—as if the mountain itself had hired him for emotional stability. “Just hold on p>
James leaned closer, placing a grounding hand on Rafael’s arm. His kind eyes were dark with concern, but his tone stayed measured.
“Rafael,” he said quietly, “breathe. Panicking won’t help her. And you’re terrifying enough already without hyperventilating p>
“Easy for you to say,” Rafael snapped, sarcasm dripping thick enough to burn. It was a cheap shield, but it was all he had to keep the terror from clawing its way out of his gut. “You’re not the one who promised to protect her. My wife—pregnant, alone, in this godforsaken ditch p>
The ATV skidded to a brutal stop at the edge of the trail, gravel spraying as the headlights cut down into the valley. Below them, the steep drop pulsed with activity—ropes swaying, harnesses creaking, floodlights blazing like artificial suns. Medics and security teams moved in controlled chaos, their voices overlapping in sharp commands and strained encouragement as they hauled survivors upward.
Rafael was out of the vehicle before Viktor had even finished braking.
His long legs carried him straight to the precipice, instincts screaming louder than reason. Behind him, James hissed urgently, “The chair, Rafael! People are watching p>
“Forget the damn façade,” Rafael growled, fists clenched at his sides.
Too late.
James was already shoving the wheelchair into place behind him, ramming it into his calves with uncharacteristic force. “Sit. Now. Or you blow everything we’ve spent years covering up p>
Rafael shot him a glare that could’ve cracked stone, then dropped into the chair with a sharp, furious thud. The act felt like swallowing broken glass. His piercing eyes—far too focused for a blind man—locked onto the rescue below, cataloging every movement.
His heart slammed against his ribs as the first figure emerged—Jason Asher.
The golden boy looked anything but golden now—blonde hair caked with dirt and blood, hazel eyes blown wide with shock, charm nowhere to be found. His ankle twisted at an ugly angle as medics rushed in, voices calm, hands efficient, loading him onto a stretcher.
“That’s Asher,” Jax muttered, stepping up beside them, phone still glued to his ear. “Alive. Definitely not having a good night p>
Rafael’s hands curled into fists against the armrests, fury igniting hot and fast. “What the hell was he doing with her?” he snarled. “If he lured her out there p>
The ropes shifted again.
Everyone froze.
Eliana’s body rose slowly into view, cradled in a rescue blanket like something heartbreakingly fragile. Her warm brown skin was scraped and bruised, her slender form terrifyingly limp. Leaves were tangled in her long, curly black hair, framing her soft, heart-shaped face—too still, too pale. Her lips were parted slightly, as if caught mid-breath.
One hand rested instinctively over her pregnant belly.
Even unconscious, she was protecting their child.
“Eliana p>
Rafael’s voice cracked open, a guttural cry that silenced the nearby rescuers. The world seemed to pause around it. He surged forward in the chair, fingers digging into the frame, but James grabbed him firmly.
“Let them work,” James said quietly, urgently. “Rafael—please p>
The medics transferred her with practiced care, movements gentle but swift. One of them looked up and called out, “Pulse is steady. She’s in shock. Possible concussion, multiple abrasions p>
Another voice followed, sharper. “Get her to the ambulance. Now. And check the fetus p>
Rafael’s world tunneled to that moment, fear slamming into him like a tidal wave. Losing her—his kind-hearted, loyal light who had thawed his frozen soul—would unravel him. And the baby, their future, fragile and innocent. “Move!” he demanded, wheeling closer as they loaded her into the waiting ambulance, its red lights flashing like accusatory beacons. Jason was bundled into a second vehicle nearby, groaning softly, but Rafael spared him only a venomous glance. “You’ll answer for this, Asher,” he muttered under his breath. “Hurt or not p>
James wasted no time. He lifted two fingers and signaled Viktor. “We’re following p>
Then he turned, voice snapping into command mode. “Jax, get the men moving. Oliver—trail the ambulances, discreetly. No heroics. Will, secure anything that looks even remotely like evidence. Liam, read the rescuers—if anyone’s lying, I want to know. Kai, shadow Asher’s transport. Don’t let him sneeze without you knowing p>
Acknowledgments came fast and quiet. The team dissolved into motion like they’d rehearsed this exact nightmare.
To be continued p>