<h4>Chapter 22: Dumbfounded</h4>


    Eliana Bet burst out of Rafael Vexley’svish bedroom, her bare feet pping against the icy floors of his sprawling mansion. The shock of cold travelled up her legs, jolting her awake in a way nothing else could. She clutched desperately at the oversized white shirt hanging off her shoulders—his shirt. It barely covered her thighs, the crisp fabric sticking to her skin, damp with sweat and lingering fear.


    Her hair was a wild mess of curls, tumbling around her face like a storm she couldn’t tame, each strand a reminder of how utterly out of ce she was in this pce of perfection. The pristine hallway, lined with towering windows that weed the shy morning sun, only made her feel smaller. She prayed under her breath that everyone in the house was still asleep. The idea of being seen like this—hair tangled, eyes swollen with unshed tears, drowning in the scent of him—made her stomach twist with humiliation.


    Her wide, panicked eyes flicked down the endless corridor, heart hammering against her ribs with every step. Each beat was a cruel reminder of what she’d done. Or what had been done to her. <i>I slept with him. Oh God... I actually slept with him.</i> The words looped endlessly in her mind, scraping against her sanity like shards of ss.


    She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Sure, she’de here ready to sell herself to him—because what other choice did she have? Her father was dying, and Rafael Vexley was her only lifeline. But this? Waking up next to him, half-naked, her body aching in ces she couldn’tprehend, his arm heavy across her waist as if he owned her... This wasn’t part of her n. Especially when she hadn’t even been conscious for it. A shiver tore through her at the memory of his lips brushing her temple, tender and possessive in a way that felt like a sick joke.


    She quickened her pace, feeling like a thief sneaking out with stolen dignity. The mansion felt like a maze designed to keep her trapped, with its crystal chandeliers overhead, it’s gleaming floors, and ornate gold frames housing portraits of powerful, untouchable people who seemed to watch her with silent judgement.


    Her breath came out in ragged bursts as she rounded a corner, searching desperately for the exit. <i>Please... just let me leave before anyone sees me like this. </i>But as always, fate had its own twisted sense of humour.


    "Oh my God. What do we have here?"


    A voice sharp and dripping with mockery cut through the silent hallway. Eliana froze mid-step, her blood turning to ice. Slowly, she lifted her gaze and felt her heart sink.


    At the end of the corridor stood a girl who looked like she’d stepped straight out of a glossy magazine cover. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen, with sleek blonde hair pulled into a painfully tight high ponytail that shimmered under the chandelier light. Her face was pretty in that harsh, intimidating way, her features sharpened by perfectly done makeup that screamed money and time to spare. She wore a matching designer athleisure set that hugged her slim frame, the brand logos practically shouting her status to the world.


    Celina Vexley.


    Those piercing blue eyes swept over Eliana, raking her from head to toe. Taking in the oversized shirt that drowned her small frame. The bare legs peeking out beneath its hem. The flushed, tear-stained cheeks.


    "Who are you?" Celina demanded, crossing her arms, her manicured nails tapping against her elbow. "And how the hell did you get into my house?"


    Eliana’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her throat was tight, her mind a whirlwind of shame. "I—I’m—" she stammered, clutching the shirt tighter, as if it could shield her from the piercing gaze.


    Celina’s eyes narrowed, and she snapped her fingers. "Maids! Get over here!" Her voice echoed through the hall, and within moments, five women in crisp ck uniforms appeared, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Celina pointed at Eliana, her tone icy. "Who is this? And why is she prancing around my house looking like that?"


    One of the maids, an older woman with kind eyes, hesitated before stepping forward. "Miss Celina, that’s... that’s Eliana. She’s Mr. Rafael’s new caregiver."


    Celina’s perfectly arched brows shot up, and then sheughed—a loud, cruel sound that bounced off the marble walls. "Caregiver? <i>Caregiver?" </i>She doubled over, clutching her stomach as if the idea were the funniest thing she’d ever heard. The maids shifted ufortably, their eyes darting between Celina and Eliana. "Oh, this is rich! You’re telling me this... this stray is supposed to be taking care of my brother? Look at her! She looks like she just rolled out of his bed!"


    Eliana’s face burned, her hands trembling as she took a step back. "I—I didn’t—" she started, but Celina cut her off, herughter turning sharp and vicious.


    "Oh, please! Don’t even try to deny it. You’re wearing his shirt, for God’s sake!" Celina’s eyes gleamed with malice as she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "What, did you think you’d seduce a blind, crippled man and get a piece of the Vexley fortune? Newssh, sweetheart—my brother can’t even see you, and he sure as hell can’t... you know." She wiggled her fingers suggestively, her lips twisting into a sneer. "I didn’t even know he could perform in that department, considering he’s, what, paralyzed from the waist down? And blind as a bat!"


    The maids gasped, one stifling a giggle behind her hand. Eliana’s heart plummeted, the realization hitting her like a p. This is Rafael’s sister. The cruelty in Celina’s voice, the way she spoke of Rafael with such disdain—they could have pass off as the cruel twins. Tears stung Eliana’s eyes, hot and unstoppable, as she stood there, exposed and humiliated.


    "I—I need to go," Eliana whispered, her voice breaking. She turned and bolted, her bare feet pounding against the floor as Celina’sughter chased her down the hall.


    "Wait!" a softer voice called after her. Eliana didn’t stop, but the sound of footsteps followed. ra, the younger maid, caught up to her, her face flushed with concern. "Miss Eliana, please,e with me."


    Eliana shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can’t... I can’t stay here..."


    "Just for a moment," ra pleaded, gently touching her arm. "Let me help you."


    Reluctantly, Eliana followed ra to the maids’ quarters, a small, utilitarian space tucked away from the grandeur of the main house. ra rummaged through a locker and pulled out a simple blue dress and a pair of ts. "Here," she said softly, handing them to Eliana. "These are mine. They’ll fit you."


    Eliana’s lip trembled as she took the clothes, her voice only a whisper. "Thank you, ra. You... you don’t know what this means."


    ra offered a small, sad smile. "You don’t deserve what Miss Celina said. She’s... she’s not kind. But you’re not alone, okay?"


    Eliana nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She changed quickly, the modest dress a stark contrast to the oversized shirt that had marked her shame. As she slipped on the ts, ra pressed a recharged bus card into her hand. "Get home safe," she murmured.


    Eliana clutched the card, her eyes welling up again. "I’m nevering back here," she vowed, her voice fierce despite the tears. "Never."


    She fled the estate, her heart pounding as she navigated the winding driveway and out the iron gates. The early morning air was cool against her tear-streaked face, but it did little to soothe the fire of humiliation burning in her chest. She walked to the nearest bus stop, her steps heavy, her mind reying Celina’s cruel words, Rafael’s deceptive warmth, the weight of her own desperation.


    <i>I sold myself. For nothing.</i>


    The bus ride was a blur. Eliana sat at the back, her face pressed against the window, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. The other passengers, absorbed in their own worlds, paid her no mind, but she felt exposed, as if they could see every crack in her heart. She couldn’t believe she’d gone to Rafael Vexley’s estate, thinking she could barter her dignity for her father’s treatment, only to be humiliated beyond measure.


    When she finally reached her small, rundown apartment, Eliana copsed onto the worn couch, her sobs wracking her slender frame. The tiny space smelled of her father’s aftershave and the faint mildew of poverty, but it was home—a sanctuary from the nightmare she’d just endured. She couldn’t face her father, not yet, not with the shame clinging to her like a second skin.


    The bath was her salvation. She stood under the lukewarm spray, scrubbing her skin until it was raw, as if she could wash away the memory of Rafael’s touch, Celina’sughter, her own naivety. I’m done with him, she thought fiercely. I’ll never see Rafael Vexley again. I’d rather sell my organs at the ck market for money than take his humiliation ever again.


    She was just pulling on a clean pair of jeans, her hair still damp, when her phone rang, shattering the fragile silence. The screen disyed the hospital’s number, and her heart lurched. "Hello?" she answered, her voice hoarse.


    "Miss Bet, this is Dr. Patel’s office," a calm voice said. "Your father’s treatment has started immediately. We need you toe byter to sign some documents."


    Eliana frowned, her hand tightening around the phone. "But... I haven’t paid the deposit yet. Dr. Patel said no treatment would start until—"


    "The funds have been covered," the voice interrupted gently. "Mr. Rafael Vexley paid for everything."


    Eliana’s legs buckled, and she sank to the floor, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp. "W-what?" she whispered, her voice trembling.


    "Pleasee byter today," the voice continued. "We’ll need those signatures." The call ended, leaving Eliana staring at the phone, her mind reeling. Rafael paid? Why?


    Before she could process the shock, her phone rang again, this time from an unknown number. Numbly, she answered. "Hello?"


    "Miss Bet," a crisp male voice cut through the line, each syble clipped with practiced professionalism. "This is James Evans, Mr. Vexley’s assistant. I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Vexley expects you at work tomorrow, bright and early."


    There was a brief pause, just long enough for his words to sink in like cold water down her spine, before his tone sharpened with quiet warning.


    "He doesn’t give third chances, Miss Bet. I suggest you don’t make the same mistake twice."


    Eliana’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her voice was trapped somewhere deep in her chest, buried under the shock crashing over her like a violent wave. Her heart thundered so hard it hurt. She sat there on the cold floor, staring nkly ahead, her mind spinning while her body felt impossibly heavy—like she’d forgotten how to move, how to breathe, how to exist at all.


    <i>What the hell just happened? </i>