His Bride in Chains-Chapter 128: Assumptions

Rafael’s face flushed with fury, his knuckles whitening on the wheelchair arms. "Blind? That’s rich coming from you. How dare you lecture me? I’ve built an empire by seeing through people’s lies, and Eliana? She’s the queen of them. Working with Mirabel and Clara to ruin me—it’s all there, plain as day!" 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

James shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. He stepped closer, lowering his voice to avoid drawing more attention from passersby, who were already glancing curiously at the tense exchange. "You don’t know that, Rafael. You’re just assuming. Letting your hatred for Mirabel cloud everything. God, it’s like you’re drowning in it. I came here today to listen to Eliana’s side of the story, to dig out the hidden truth. Whether you admit it or not, you’re lost without her. I’ve seen you these past weeks—snapping at everyone, buried in work like it’s a shield. And from what I’ve seen of Eliana? She’s miserable too. Pale, eyes red from crying, barely holding it together. But you refuse to see it. And when I finally try to bridge the gap, you ruin it all with that damn phone call!"

Rafael’s eyes flashed behind the sunglasses, his sarcasm turning venomous. He slammed a fist against the wheelchair’s armrest, the metallic thud echoing off the nearby buildings. "Ruin it? I don’t need a woman who jumps into another man’s arms before we’ve even broken up! Pretending she loves me while she’s out with her new boyfriend—Henry, was it? Batting those honey eyes at him, just like she did with me. It’s disgusting!"

James sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. The wind tousled his hair, and he glanced around, noting how Marc had discreetly stepped back toward the SUV, giving them space but staying close enough to intervene if needed. "There you go again, assuming things. How do you even know Henry is her new boyfriend? Have you seen them together? Kissed? Anything beyond a hug or a conversation? The Eliana I know—the kind, loyal woman who cared for you when no one else would—doesn’t strike me as someone who’d do that. If only you’d give her a chance to get her words out before you judge her like some courtroom executioner."

Rafael’s breath came in sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling under his tailored suit. For a moment, vulnerability flickered across his handsome features—a crack in the armor—but he shoved it down, his voice hardening. "A chance? She’s had plenty. Being Mirabel’s daughter changes everything. There’s nothing she could say to erase that. She’s been playing me from the start, and you’re too soft to see it."

James’s patience frayed, his usually calm demeanor giving way to a rare edge of exasperation. He shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder, its contents—a small, thoughtful gift for Eliana—feeling heavier than ever. He’d picked it out earlier that morning: a delicate silver locket engraved with a quote from his favorite poet, Maya Angelou—"You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated." Inside, he’d tucked a photo of her father, scanned from an old picture she’d once shown him, as a way to apologize for Rafael’s cruelty and remind her of her forgiving heart. But now, with the scene exploded, it remained ungiven, a symbol of missed opportunities.

"Soft? Maybe I am, but at least I’m not blinded by rage," James retorted, his voice steady but firm. "Besides, something’s been bugging me ever since that day Eliana came to the company, and you ruthlessly had security throw her out like she was some intruder. The look on her face—it wasn’t just hurt; it was desperation. Like she had something vital to say."

Rafael’s anger simmered, curiosity piercing through despite himself. He removed his sunglasses slowly, revealing those stormy steel-grey eyes, sharp and unclouded—his secret sight a weapon he wielded in silence. "What? What could possibly be bugging you about that? She deserved it."

James met his gaze unflinchingly. "I’ve already had people look into it. Discreetly, of course. Once I get the answers, I’ll tell you immediately. But mark my words, Rafael, you’re going to regret this. Pushing away the one person who might actually love you for who you are—not your money, not your power."

Rafael scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips, though it lacked any real humor. It was more like a bark, sharp and defensive. "Whatever. Save your pity party for someone else. I’m going back to the office. Hurry up if you want to keep your job, James. I don’t have time for this nonsense."

With that, he wheeled himself the last few feet to the SUV, where Marc hurried forward. The driver opened the door with practiced efficiency, helping Rafael transfer from the wheelchair to the plush leather seat inside. It was all an act, of course—Rafael’s legs were as strong as ever, his sight restored—but the pretense was a shield, a way to expose the greed and betrayals lurking in his world. Marc folded the wheelchair and stowed it in the trunk, then slid into the driver’s seat. The engine purred to life, and the SUV pulled away from the curb, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake.

James stood there on the sidewalk, watching the vehicle merge into traffic. He sighed again, a long, weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of the entire drama. The duffel bag felt like an anchor now, the gift inside a poignant reminder of what could have been. He’d meant to give it to Eliana as a quiet apology, a gesture to soften the blow of Rafael’s harshness. The locket was simple yet elegant, its chain fine and shimmering, chosen because it mirrored her natural grace despite her modest life. He’d imagined her opening it, her expressive honey eyes lighting up, perhaps even forgiving the chaos Rafael had wrought. But now? It would have to wait, if it happened at all.

Shaking his head, James pulled out his phone and hailed a cab through an app. The city around him pulsed with life—honking horns, chattering pedestrians, the distant wail of a siren—but he felt detached from it all, exhaustion settling into his bones like lead. When the cab arrived, a nondescript sedan with a chatty driver, James slid into the back seat, giving the company’s towering address in a tired voice.

As the cab lurched forward, James laid his head back against the worn upholstery, closing his eyes. The events replayed in his mind: Eliana’s tear-streaked face, Rafael’s furious accusations, the unspoken truths hanging in the air like fragile threads. "What a mess," he muttered to himself, the words barely audible over the hum of the engine. He wondered if bridges could be rebuilt from such rubble, or if this was the end of the line for all of them. The cab sped on, carrying him toward the glass-and-steel fortress of Rafael’s empire, where secrets festered and hearts bled in silence.