Chapter 25: Don’t Fight It

Eliana Bennett’s chest tightened with a cold dread that made her stomach twist. She stood frozen, trembling from head to toe, tears gathering in her wide eyes before slipping down her soft warm cheeks. Rafael Vexley’s words echoed in her mind, sharp and cruel: "The truth is whatever I say it is." Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, like a bird trapped in a tiny cage, thrashing to get free. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t wrong. In his world—the world of the rich and untouchable—truth was just another thing they could bend and twist to fit their stories. Her dreams, worn thin like the soles of her sandals, meant nothing here. She was just another thread in the grand fabric he controlled, and he could snip her away whenever he felt like it. She opened her mouth, desperate to speak, but no words came out. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms until they stung. Maybe if she focused on that pain, she wouldn’t fall apart right there in front of him. The air felt heavy, almost too thick to breathe, and even the faint clinking sounds from the staff setting the table seemed to mock her silence. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t do this to her, that he couldn’t just play with her life like it was his favourite game. But the words were trapped behind her teeth, tangled with fear and anger. Her curls quivered as she shook her head in disbelief, as if denying this reality would make it vanish. Rafael didn’t care. He wheeled himself back to the table and leaned back in his chair, studying her with those cold steel-grey eyes that saw everything and felt nothing. His sharp jaw tensed slightly, and then a smirk spread across his lips—a smirk that felt more like a wolf baring its teeth. Slowly, he picked up his fork and speared a piece of steak, moving with deliberate calmness, like he had all the time in the world. The gentle clink of metal against his plate cut through the tense silence like hot knife. He chewed with infuriating ease, as if he hadn’t just torn her world apart with one sentence. For him, this was nothing but another move in a game he knew he would always win. "Eliana," he said after a few bites, his voice smooth but laced with steel, "you’re still standing there. Don’t tell me you’re planning to make a scene again." He dabbed his lips with a crisp white napkin, the motion almost theatrical, before setting it down with a flourish. "It’s simple, really. You owe me. And I’m not a patient man." Eliana’s breath hitched, her tears falling faster now, hot and heavy. She swiped at them angrily, her voice finally breaking free, though it trembled with the weight of her emotions. "You can’t do this, Rafael. You can’t just... trap me here like some kind of prisoner! I didn’t steal anything! You know I didn’t!" His smirk widened, a glint of dark amusement flickering in his eyes. "Prisoner? Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Miss Bennett. I’m offering you a job and a chance to repay your debt. Most would call that generous." He tilted his head, his wavy dark hair catching the light, making him look like some fallen angel playing at benevolence. "But if you’d rather test my patience, go ahead." Eliana moved before she even realized it, her sandals squeaking against the smooth marble floor as she turned away from him. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat pushing her forward with a shaky mix of desperation and stubborn hope. He’s bluffing, she told herself over and over, trying to calm the panic rising inside her. I didn’t steal anything. He’s just trying to scare me. She was almost at the doorway, her fingertips brushing the cold wood of the doorframe. Freedom was right there, so close she could taste it, when Rafael’s voice pulled her to a stop. "Not so fast," he drawled, his tone laced with mocking surprise. It made her flinch. "I almost forgot to mention—" She turned to face him, her chest tight with dread. "If you’re going to work for me properly, Eliana," he continued, leaning back in his wheelchair with that same infuriating calm, "you’ll need to be close. You’ll live here, in my house, until every last penny of your debt is paid. Only then— only then—can you walk away." Her body froze mid-step, her mouth falling open in shock. She spun around, her curls bouncing wildly, her eyes blazing with a mix of horror and indignation. "Live here?" she choked out, her voice rising. "You can’t be serious! I have a home, Rafael! I have a life! You can’t just demand I uproot everything because you say so!" Rafael’s laughter was low and rich, rolling through the room like thunder. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the arms of his wheelchair, his clouded gaze pinning her in place. "Oh, but I can, Eliana. And I am. You’ll move in today. No arguments, no delays. You’ll do your job, and you’ll do it well, or I’ll make sure your father hospital stay is a lot less... comfortable." Eliana’s hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. Her vision blurred with fresh tears, and she shook her head, her voice a desperate plea. "This isn’t fair! You’re twisting everything, Rafael! I didn’t force you to give me your money, and I didn’t ask for this! Why are you doing this to me?" He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to Clara’s direction, who stood frozen near the sideboard, her hands twisting nervously in her apron. "Clara, are you there?" he asked. "Yes sir." Clara replied walking up to him. "Clara," he said, his voice clipped and authoritative, "prepare a room for Miss Bennett. Make sure it’s ready by tonight." Clara’s dark eyes darted to Eliana, filled with a sympathy that only deepened Eliana’s despair. "Yes, sir," she murmured, her voice soft but strained, before casting Eliana a look that begged her to stay calm. Rafael’s gaze returned towards Eliana’s direction slightly, his expression unyielding. "You have until tonight to settle in," he said, his tone final. "I won’t tolerate excuses tomorrow. Understood?" Eliana’s mouth opened again, a protest forming, but Rafael was already moving. He wiped his lips with the napkin once more, the gesture precise and dismissive, before rolling his wheelchair toward the door. The soft hum of the motor filled the room, a stark contrast to the chaos in Eliana’s heart. James, his assistant, followed silently, his glasses glinting as he adjusted them, avoiding Eliana’s gaze as they exited the dining room. Eliana stood alone in the cavernous space, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The weight of Rafael’s ultimatum pressed down on her, heavy as the marble beneath her feet. Her mind raced, replaying his words, his smirk, the way he’d toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. She wanted to run, to flee this house and never look back, but the image of her father’s gentle, weathered face held her in place. Frank Bennett, with his kind eyes and quiet strength, deserved better than to be caught in Rafael’s web of lies. Clara’s soft footsteps broke the silence as she approached, her expression a mix of pity and caution. "Eliana," she said gently, her voice sounding small, "don’t fight him. It never ends well for those who do. Mr. Vexley... he’s not like other men. He’s got ways of making things happen, ways you can’t fight." Eliana turned to her, tears streaming down her face, her voice trembling with frustration. "Clara, how can I just... accept this? He’s trying to control my life! I can’t let him do that!" Clara’s lips pressed into a sad smile, her hands reaching out to squeeze Eliana’s arm. "I know, sweetheart. I know it ain’t right. But you’ve gotta be smart about this. Go get your things today, bring ’em here. If you don’t..." She hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease. "You’ll regret it tomorrow. Trust me." Eliana’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her like water from a cracked vase. "I don’t understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "How did this happen? How did I end up here?" Clara’s smile softened, tinged with a sorrow that seemed to carry years of unspoken stories. "I’ll have your room ready when you get back," she said, her voice kind but firm. "Just... do what you need to do, Eliana." With that, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing faintly as she disappeared through a side door, leaving Eliana alone in the vast, glittering dining room. Eliana stood there, her heart a battlefield of defiance and despair. The chandelier’s light danced across the walls, creating shadows that seemed to mock her predicament. Her hands trembled as she wiped her tears, her mind a whirlwind of questions. What had just happened? How had her life spiraled into this trap, orchestrated by a man who wielded power like a weapon? She glanced at the doorway where Rafael had disappeared, his cold laughter still ringing in her ears. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—a crack in his clouded gaze, a hint of light. But it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it. With a shaky breath, Eliana turned toward the door, her steps heavy with the weight of a future she couldn’t escape. Not yet.