Silence settled between them—not the brittle kind that snapped with resentnt, but the dense, humming sort that pressed against the skin, weighted with everything neither of them was quite brave enough to say out loud.
Rafael Vexley lay beside Eliana, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other hovering as if unsure whether to pull her closer or give her space. The bedside lamp cast a soft amber glow across the room, gilding the sharp lines of his face and softening them all at once. His steel-grey eyes studied her like she was a puzzle he both feared and needed to solve. The sheets were tangled around their legs, warm, intimate, carrying the mingled scent of her lavender shampoo and his familiar cologne—comforting, dangerous, addictive.
He didn’t rush her. That alone said more than words ever could.
Instead, he reached out slowly, his fingertips brushing her cheek with a tenderness that felt almost reverent, as though he were committing her to mory all over again. The touch lingered, unhurried, grounding.
"Eliana," he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges, like it had scraped its way out of his chest. "I won’t force you. You know that, right?" His thumb traced a small, absent circle near her jaw. "But... I need you to reconsider."
She felt the shiver before she could stop it.
"This conference," he continued, shifting closer, his presence warm and unmistakable, "it’s not just another room full of overdressed people pretending to like each other. It’s a statent. A chance to introduce you to the world as my wife. Properly." His gaze held hers, unwavering. "No doubts. No whispers. No one questioning whether what we have is real."
Eliana inhaled slowly, her honey-brown eyes flickering with conflict as she turned to face him fully. "Rafael, I—"
"Wait." His interruption was gentle, almost pleading. He propped himself up on one elbow, dark wavy hair falling into his eyes in a way that would’ve looked unfairly handso even if she weren’t already lying next to him. "Just hear out."
He took a breath, like he was choosing his words carefully, like each one mattered. "Ever since we got married, people out there have been tearing us apart without ever eting us. Doubting our marriage. Calling it a farce, a contract, sothing temporary." His jaw tightened briefly before easing again. "But if you stand beside —if they see you the way I see you—there won’t be room for doubt anymore."
His hand slipped down, resting protectively on her belly, the gesture instinctive, possessive in the best and worst ways. "They’ll see that we’re real. That you’re not so afterthought. And those vultures—the ones who’ve made your life hell, like my stepmother?" A humorless smile tugged at his lips. "They’ll think twice before coming anywhere near you again. They’ll know you’re not alone. That you’re protected."
He paused then continued.
"That you’re mine."
Eliana’s chest tightened at the word. Mine. Not owned—claid. Chosen. Because sowhere deep down, a quiet voice reminded her that this marriage was indeed a contract. A desperate solution. A carefully negotiated agreent. Not exactly the stuff of fairy tales. She wondered—dangerously—if Rafael even rembered that part anymore.
She didn’t say it. She let the thought rest, heavy and unspoken, between her ribs.
Rafael’s expression softened when she didn’t speak. His thumb brushed over her belly with almost unconscious care, his voice dropping further. "And if I’m being honest... all of that aside?" He t her eyes again, sothing vulnerable flickering there. "I just want you there with ."
A faint smile curved his mouth. "I want to show off my beautiful wife. Parade you around shalessly like the treasure you are. Because, God, Eliana—" he exhaled, a quiet laugh slipping out, "you have this annoying habit of making everything better just by existing."
Despite herself, warmth blood in her chest, cracking through her resolve. She shook her head softly, lips twitching. "You’re laying it on thick, aren’t you?"
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. "I’m a businessman. When I want sothing, I negotiate aggressively. Imagine there alone—awkward, itchy to leave after the first handshake. I hate these things; they’re full of fake smiles and backroom deals. But with you? Your company would be the best part. I wouldn’t feel out of place. And honestly, it wouldn’t be wise for the empire if I bolted early. Deals get made in those late-night chats by the fire. You’d keep grounded, make it bearable."
Eliana sighed, turning onto her side to face him fully, her long curls spilling over the pillow like a dark waterfall. "Rafael, I get it. But I’m not ready. The crowds, the eyes on ... and with the baby..."
He didn’t let up, but his persuasion remained gentle, like a warm breeze coaxing a flower to bloom. "Think about it—we’d have our own suite, away from the chaos. Private hikes, just us. And security everywhere. No one touches you without your say-so. You’d be safe, pampered. And you’d humanize , like I said. Turn from the cold billionaire into... well, a man in love."
She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, now you’re a man in love?"
"Absolutely," he replied, his tone turning mischievous. "Hopelessly. Desperately. And if you don’t co, I’ll be miserable. Pining. Probably send you a hundred texts a day complaining about how boring it is without you."
Eliana laughed despite herself, a soft, lodic sound that made his heart ache with affection. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, you haven’t said no again," he pointed out, inching closer. His fingers danced lightly along her side, testing the waters. "Co on, Eliana. For ? Please?"
She squird as his touch turned ticklish, his fingers finding that sensitive spot just below her ribs. "Rafael—stop!"
But he didn’t, escalating with a grin that lit up his chiseled features. "Not until you say yes. Admit it—you want to go. Deep down, you do."
Laughter bubbled out of her as she wriggled away, but he followed, his strong arms pinning her gently in place. "You’re—haha—cheating! This isn’t fair!"
"All’s fair in love and conferences," he teased, his voice laced with mock seriousness as he tickled her relentlessly, his fingers skimming her sides and neck. "Say yes, or face the tickle monster’s wrath!"
Eliana gasped between giggles, playfully swatting at his hands. "Damn you, Rafael! Fine—stop! I said stop!"
To be continued...
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