The pavilion lights dimd as the welco dinner wrapped up, the evening dissolving into the soft clink of abandoned wine glasses and the low hum of satisfied, overfed conversations. Sowhere behind them, laughter lingered; ahead, the mountain night breathed cool and sharp, slling of pine needles, damp earth, and distant campfires that promised secrets and burned marshmallows.
Eliana stepped into the night with her arm looped comfortably through Rafael’s as Jas guided his wheelchair along the softly lit path. The scene could have passed for intimate and ordinary—if not for the quiet army moving with them. Rafael’s n followed at a distance that was no accident. Oliver lted into the shadows like smoke that knew where to hide. Will’s broad fra spoke fluent don’t try it. Liam’s eyes flicked constantly, cataloguing movents and threats with hawk-like focus. Kai moved so quietly he might as well have been a rumor. Viktor stayed steady and unreadable, while Jax—ever the conductor—controlled their invisible periter with nothing more than a subtle nod.
From the fringes of the path, half-hidden among lingering conference guests pretending not to eavesdrop, Jason Asher watched.
His hazel eyes burned, frustration simring just beneath the surface. He’d run a hand through his already-ssy blonde hair so many tis it looked like it had survived a mild storm. All evening, he’d circled—hovering near exits, scanning for a miracle opening. Maybe she’d slip away alone. Maybe a bathroom break. A drink refill. Anything.
Nothing.
Eliana was never alone. Rafael was always there, calm and immovable, like a very well-dressed wall. And those n—damn them. They dressed like everyone else, blending in with the casual evening crowd so well Jason couldn’t even count them. Approaching was a terrible idea, and Jason knew it. Still, he lingered in the shadows, gym-toned body coiled tight, watching a scene that twisted sothing ugly in his chest.
Then Eliana laughed.
It wasn’t polite laughter. It wasn’t social laughter. It was real—bright, unguarded, echoing into the night as Rafael murmured sothing in her ear. Jason’s fists clenched.
How dare she laugh like that—with him?
His gaze dropped, unwilling but helpless, to the gentle curve of her baby bump. It hit harder than he expected, a sharp, unsettling punch to his ego. Pregnant. So the stories were true. Eliana was really pregnant with another man’s child. His Eliana.
The thought made his jaw tighten, but his resolve only hardened. Another man’s child or not, Jason wasn’t giving up. Not on her. Not ever. In his mind, the story still ended the sa way—with Eliana coming back where she belonged.
Ahead, Rafael stopped the wheelchair suddenly and, with effortless strength that made the move look almost casual, pulled Eliana onto his lap. His hands settled at her waist—protective, familiar. He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, drawing a delighted giggle from her lips. Her curly black hair spilled over his shoulder as she leaned into him, her warm brown skin glowing softly under the moonlight like it had been painted there.
Jason felt his blood boil.
He knew Rafael’s reputation. Everyone did. The man was ruthless—a quiet puppet master with a smile sharp enough to cut. Jason still rembered the cold, the pain, the terror of being kidnapped and tortured by Rafael’s n over a cri he hadn’t committed. He hadn’t kidnapped Eliana. But Rafael hadn’t cared about the truth then.
And he wouldn’t hesitate now.
"No." Jason said to himself, "Charging in blind would be suicide." He forced himself to breathe, to retreat deeper into the shadows. Tomorrow, he decided, his narcissistic mind already spinning with possibilities.
Tomorrow, he’d find a way to get his woman back.
Unaware of the watchful eyes, Eliana and Rafael continued their stroll, the path winding toward their luxurious tent. As they reached the entrance, the flap billowing softly in the breeze, Eliana turned to Rafael with a soft smile. "That was nice, Rafael. The air out here... it clears my head."
He nodded, his steel-grey eyes—unmasked now in privacy—eting hers with a warmth that cracked his cold facade. "Good. You needed it after that circus of a dinner." Jas bid them goodnight and departed, the n dispersing to their posts.
Inside the tent, crystal chandeliers shimred softly, scattering warm light across polished hardwood floors and a silk-draped bed that looked far too luxurious for sothing technically classified as "temporary shelter." It felt less like camping and more like royalty slumming it for the weekend.
Eliana drifted toward the marble bathroom, the hem of her blue dress whispering against her legs. The long stroll had left its mark—dirt, fatigue, and a general sense of I need hot water imdiately. "I’m going to take a bath," she said over her shoulder. "That stroll left feeling gritty. And no, that’s not a taphor."
Rafael wheeled closer, eyes glinting with mischief as his voice dropped into a mock-serious, overly concerned tone. "A bath? Alone?" He clicked his tongue. "Princess, this is reckless. Truly. What if you slip? What if you need soone to scrub your back? Or dramatically rescue you from a rogue bar of soap?" He leaned in slightly. "I should join you. For safety reasons, obviously."
Eliana stopped at the partition and turned, honey-brown eyes dancing with amusent. She crossed her arms, head tilting just enough to say ’I see you.’ "Oh really? Safety?" she echoed. "Is that what we’re calling it now?" She arched a brow. "Nice try, Casanova. But no. You don’t get deluxe bathroom access yet. You have to earn those privileges, Mr. Vexley."
Rafael laughed—a deep, unguarded sound that softened the sharp lines of his chiseled jaw. "Earn them, huh?" he said, shaking his head. "Fine. One day, Eliana, I’ll break down every wall you’ve built. I’ll earn your love, your trust... even your forgiveness." His eyes held hers, steady and sincere. "Everything."
For a mont, sothing tender flickered behind her gaze—old wounds stirring, mories she rarely let surface. But she masked it with a soft, hopeful smile. "Maybe," she said gently. Then, she waved him away playfully, "But tonight? Out. Shoo."
She disappeared behind the screen, leaving Rafael smiling to himself.
Later that night, as always, sleep found them tangled together. Rafael’s athletic fra curved protectively around her, his hand resting instinctively on her belly, quietly attuned to the subtle movents of the life growing there. Eliana nestled against his chest, her breathing slow and even, the chaos of the world montarily silenced.
In his arms, she found peace. And for now, that was enough.
To be continued...
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