His Bride in Chains-Chapter 147: Panicking

Rafael’s world tilted—then shattered like glass. Henry Jackson. The name hit him like a blow to the chest. Him again?! He was there? Of course he was. The man who always lingered near Eliana every time Rafael saw her, his presence too casual to be innocent. The same name Sarai and Bianca had tossed into their web of lies, claiming Eliana was secretly dating him.

Rafael’s breath caught, his chest tightening as if the air itself had turned against him. His steel eyes—hidden behind the mask of blindness—flashed wide with a terror he couldn’t contain. Could it truly be coincidence that Henry happened to be there? Or had Sarai and Bianca’s venom finally found its mark?

A vision of Eliana rose unbidden—her warm laughter, the kindness in her touch, the way she spoke his name like it meant something. The thought of her in danger, in his hands, sent a sharp pain ripping through his chest. Fear wrapped around him like iron chains, crushing every ounce of composure he had left.

"Henry Jackson..." The words trembled out of him, barely a whisper. Then, with a steadier breath, he forced control back into his voice. "No. It can’t be her. Verify it, James, please. And... thank you."

He ended the call, his trembling hands nearly dropping the phone. Panic surged, hot and unrelenting. He couldn’t sit here any longer, feigning helplessness. "Phone, call Marc," he commanded, his voice breaking with urgency.

Marc, his loyal driver, picked up immediately. "Yes, boss?"

"Bring the car around. Now. I’m going out."

Sarai’s eyes lit up with feigned surprise. "Going out? In your condition? Mr. Vexley, is that wise? Let us help—"

"No," Rafael snapped, his sarcasm cutting through like a blade. "You’ve ’helped’ enough. Stay here or leave—I don’t care."

Bianca rose gracefully, her designer heels clicking on the marble floor. "But Rafael, darling, where are you going? To the hospital? We could come with you, for support."

He wheeled toward the door, his athletic build straining against the pretense. "I said no. This is my fight now."

A few minutes later, the low growl of a black luxury sedan echoed through the courtyard as it glided to a stop before the mansion’s grand entrance. The car gleamed under the night lights—sleek, powerful, and silent, like a predator waiting for command.

Marc stepped out first—a mountain of a man with the steady patience of someone who’d seen too much but still believed in loyalty. His rough hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped Rafael into the back seat, mindful to keep up the act, to protect the illusion that his boss was nothing more than a broken man in a chair. Of course it was an act on his part, he simply believed that was the case.

As the car pulled away from the sprawling estate, Rafael leaned forward, his tall frame trembling as if the walls of his control were beginning to crack. Fear wrapped around his ribs, squeezing tighter with every passing mile.

Images of Eliana tormented him—her soft, heart-shaped face streaked with tears, her curls tangled and dark with blood, those full pink lips gasping his name into the silence. The thought clawed at him, merciless and raw. What if she was gone?

Outside, the city lights smeared into golden streaks against the tinted glass—beautiful, distant, and cruel. They blurred like memories he couldn’t hold onto, each one reminding him of how trapped he truly was: inside his own body, inside his lies, and inside the shadow of that crash that had changed everything.

Meanwhile, back at the mansion, the evening hummed with mischief. The Monroe sisters slipped into their cherry-red convertible, its paint gleaming under the setting sun like liquid fire. The air smelled of expensive perfume and victory.

Sarai slid behind the wheel, her manicured fingers drumming against the leather as the engine purred to life. She revved it once—just to hear the growl—then tossed her sleek black hair over one shoulder, the wind immediately catching it. The adrenaline lighting up her amber eyes made her look almost feral. "Can you believe it, sis?" she said, grinning as the tires whispered against the gravel. "He’s breaking. All that calm, that control—it’s slipping. Eliana’s out of the picture. Dead, or close enough."

Bianca’s laughter floated through the night, soft and musical, the kind of sound that could fool anyone into thinking she had a heart. But her smile was razor-edged as she adjusted the rearview mirror, watching Rafael’s taillights disappear into the distance. "Oh, my sweet little pea," she purred. "It’s almost poetic. We’ve always been unstoppable—two peas in a pod, remember? And that silly girl actually thought she could outshine us? With her thrift-store dresses and doe eyes?"

She shook her head, a cruel spark dancing in her gaze. "Now Henry has her—one way or another—and Rafael? He’ll crumble. And when he does..." Her lips curved into a smirk as she leaned back in her seat, the city lights glinting off her diamond earrings. "We’ll be right there to catch him. Maybe even walk away with a slice of that billionaire fortune for dessert."

The convertible roared to life, vanishing down the driveway like a streak of red lightning, leaving behind only the echo of their laughter—and the faint scent of danger in the night air.

Sarai giggled, her sarcastic tone turning playful. "Imagine the headlines: ’Billionaire Recluse Loses Caregiver in Tragic Accident.’ And us, the grieving friends. Priceless!"

As the cherry-red convertible trailed the black sedan through the winding streets, the sisters’ laughter sliced through the night air—light, reckless, and cruel. It rolled off the city walls like the echo of something wicked and unrepentant. To anyone else, it might have sounded carefree; to Rafael, had he heard it, it would’ve been the sound of hell itself.

Inside the sedan ahead, his torment brewed in silence, the clash of fury and fear twisting through him like a storm he couldn’t escape. The night around them seemed to hold its breath, torn between their games of deceit and the truth waiting to bare its teeth.

The road curved sharply, streetlights flickering over wet asphalt as both cars sped toward the same destination—Jackson’s Hospital. Where the lies would either unravel... or destroy them all.