Chapter 278
Engines roared to life. The ambulances surged ahead, lights screaming through the darkness as the convoy tore back along the winding mountain paths toward the festival’s medical tent.
Calling it a tent was a lie everyone politely agreed to ignore.
This was a sprawling, state-of-the-art medical facility wrapped in luxury canvas—part field hospital, part billionaire panic room. Inside were MRI machines, surgical suites, and enough medical tech to treat a small country, all courtesy of the conference’s smug promise of “maximum security p>
Rafael sat rigid in the ATV, fury coiling tighter with every second.
How did this happen?
This place crawled with guards, drones, thermal sensors, and enough surveillance tech to spot a mosquito sneezing at fifty meters. And yet Eliana—his Eliana—had been out there. Alone. Pregnant. With Jason Asher.
The conclusion felt obvious. Too obvious.
Asher had lured her out. Some pathetic attempt at reconciliation. A conversation that had gone wrong.
But the idiot’s injuries complicated things. A man who planned an ambush usually didn’t end it with a wrecked ankle and a face full of gravel.
Interrogation would come later.
They pulled up to the medical tent under blinding floodlights, shadows snapping sharply across the canvas walls. Rafael wheeled himself inside, James glued to his side like a conscience that refused to shut up.
“Glasses,” James muttered, already holding them up. “Put them on p>
Rafael scowled. “James, if there was ever a moment I didn’t feel like pretending p>
“Now,” James insisted, practically shoving the dark shades onto his face. “Unless you’d like half the medical staff realizing you’re miraculously cured. We can’t risk exposure now p>
Rafael hissed under his breath but let it happen. The tinted lenses slid into place, hiding eyes far too sharp for a blind man.
The waiting area buzzed with controlled urgency. Nurses in scrubs moved quickly, monitors beeped in tight, nervous rhythms, voices stayed low but clipped. Rafael parked the wheelchair in the corner, impatience radiating off him like heat from a live wire.
His men gathered nearby, faces grim, shoulders tight.
“Update,” Rafael demanded.
Jax stepped forward. “Eliana’s in exam room one. They’re checking for internal injuries—concussion, shock. Monitoring the fetal heartbeat p>
Rafael’s jaw locked.
“Asher’s in room two,” Jax continued. “Minor fractures. Bruised ego. Unfortunately conscious p>
Rafael exploded.
“This is unacceptable!” His voice cracked through the tent, bouncing off canvas and steel alike. “Oliver—you lost her. How? Will, what were all your toys doing, taking a nap? Liam, were you reading a romance novel instead of people like Jason Asher? Kai, Viktor, Jax—you’re supposed to be the best money can buy p>
His sarcasm curdled into raw fury. “And the conference organizers—’maximum security,’ they said. Drones, patrols, billion-dollar systems—yet my pregnant wife ends up in a ditch? Incredible. Truly inspiring incompetence p>
The bodyguards shifted uneasily.
Oliver stepped back half a pace, hawk-like gaze lowered. “She slipped the perimeter like smoke,” he said quietly. “That’s on me p>
Rafael turned toward him slowly. “Damn right it is p>
Then he jabbed a finger toward an approaching security chief—a broad man with a conference badge and the haunted look of someone reconsidering his career choices.
“Evidence,” Rafael snapped. “Now. Did she fall, or was she pushed? I want cameras, footprints, timestamps, witnesses—everything. If anyone laid a hand on her, I will bury them. Financially. Legally. Personally p>
The chief swallowed and nodded fast. “Y-Yes, Mr. Vexley. Teams are already combing the site p>
James placed a firm, calming hand on Rafael’s shoulder and leaned in. “Easy,” he murmured. “You’re drawing attention p>
Rafael shrugged him off, but tears pricked his eyes, hot and unwelcome. He blinked them back fiercely, the ruthless billionaire cracking under the weight. Eliana—his growth, his trust, his love—fighting for life because of his world’s dangers. A sob choked him, and he swiped at his face, shades askew.
“Rafael James murmured, adjusting the glasses gently. “Don’t. Stay composed p>
“Composed?” Rafael’s voice trembled. “She’s in there, James. Unconscious. Our child… if I lose them p>
More tears escaped, visible now, tracing paths down his chiseled cheeks. He tried to stem them, jaw working silently, but the dam broke in quiet heaves.
James knelt beside him. “We’ll get through this. But no rash moves—no standing, no removing the shades. Promise me p>
“You’re hovering like a damn nanny,” Rafael growled, irritation flaring amid the grief. “Back off p>
The waiting area filled with sympathizers—CEOs in rumpled suits, billionaires with concerned frowns, socialites murmuring condolences. One approached, a tech mogul with a sympathetic smile. “Rafael, terrible news. If there’s anything p>
“Suspect,” Rafael muttered, then louder: “Get away! All of you! Who knows what hand you had in this p>
The man backed off, startled. Another tried—a pharmaceutical heir. “We’re all worried p>
“Worried? Or covering tracks?” Rafael roared, wheeling forward aggressively. “Out! Everyone’s a viper until proven otherwise p>
Murmurs rippled, heads turning. Nurses exchanged glances, one hurrying over. “Mr. Vexley, perhaps a private tent? For privacy p>
Rafael nodded curtly, tears still glistening. “Fine. Away from these snakes p>
They escorted him and James to a quiet side tent, partitioned for VIPs—soft lighting, comfortable chairs, a small table with water. His men stationed outside. Rafael wheeled to the center, breaths ragged.
James paced in a slow, careful loop, like someone trying not to set off an already-primed explosive. “Rafael,” he said gently, “sit still. Drink some water. The doctors are the best money can buy. She’ll be okay p>
“Calm down?” Rafael snapped, the words tearing out of him. “How—how am I supposed to calm down?” He turned sharply toward James, fury flashing. “I said back off with the hovering! I don’t need a babysitter—I need my wife p>
His hands came up to his temples, fingers digging in as his control frayed. His chest hitched, tears burning again, unwelcome and relentless.
“If I lose her His voice broke, rough and unsteady. “God, James, I swore I’d protect her. From my family. From the world. From everything.” A hollow laugh slipped out, brittle and painful. “And now this p>
He swallowed hard. “Jason being there—it stinks. It feels staged. Like a setup. But he’s hurt too.” His jaw tightened. “I can’t even interrogate the bastard yet p>
“We’ll get answers,” James said firmly. “Our people are already working. Just breathe. And for once, don’t make any rash decisions—no ditching the chair, no ripping off the glasses. We expose your secrets when we decide to p>
Rafael’s frustration surged hot and sharp. “Your repeating voice is starting to grate, James,” he snapped. “I’m not a child. Stop mothering me p>
James lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine. But you know I’m right. We’ve come too far to p>
The tent flap snapped open.
A voice cut through the air like a whip. “You swore you’d protect her, Rafael! And you couldn’t even do that? What kind of husband lets his pregnant wife fall into a ditch p>
Rafael’s head jerked up.
Behind the dark lenses, his steel-grey eyes widened in shock. The anger drained from his face in an instant, replaced by something raw and disbelieving. Whatever he’d been about to say collapsed in his throat as recognition slammed into him like a thunderclap.
For the first time since the alarms had sounded—
Rafael Vexley was utterly speechless.