<h4>Chapter 49: Unrecognized and Unrepentant</h4>


    Rafael’s wheelchair moved smoothly across the polished marble, the faint hum of the wheels echoing in the heavy silence. He stopped squarely between Eliana and Mirabel Vexley, his presence a wall of defiance despite the chair that carried him. His grey eyes burned with anger, sharp and unyielding, locking on the woman who dared to strike Eliana.


    The room itself seemed to hold its breath. The roses in the crystal vases, once proud and fragrant, now sagged as if bowing to the tension pressing down on everything.


    Eliana stood motionless, shock rooting her to the spot. Her cheek still stung where Mirabel’s hand hadnded, the heat of it spreading like a cruel reminder. Her wide brown eyes shimmered with disbelief and hurt, as if she couldn’t quite process that the ghost she thought she’d left buried in her past had just reached out and struck her in the present.


    Mirabel’s towering figure loomed like a shadow from another life—elegant, cold, and unshaken—her presence a cruel mirror of the abandonment and betrayal Eliana had tried so hard to outrun.


    "Mirabel." Rafael’s voice thundered through the room, deep andmanding, the kind of tone that left no room for misunderstanding. Anger simmered beneath every word, held back only by sheer restraint. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? You storm into my house—my house—like some entitled tyrant, and then you have the audacity toy your hand on her? On my caregiver? Have youpletely lost your damn mind?"


    The words cracked through the silence like a whip, but Mirabel only tilted her chin, unshaken. Her cold blue eyes slid to him, narrowing into slits as she smoothed down the front of her silk blouse. The soft clink of her pearl ne echoed like an insult in the stillness, as if the violence she had justmitted was nothing more than an afterthought—like brushing away a fly.


    "Oh, Rafael, please," she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. A cruel smile tugged at her painted lips. "Spare me the theatrics. You’ve always had a ir for dramatics, but this—this righteous act—it’s almostughable."


    She turned sharply, her manicured finger stabbing toward Eliana, who flinched despite herself. Mirabel’s eyes burned with venom. "Rafael, you took sides with this nobody," she spat, the wordnding like venom on the polished floor, "this pig who dared toy her hands on my daughter. Celina is a Vexley—she carries our blood, our name. And this—this filthy, low-born intruder—" her words sharpened with each breath, "does not deserve to even stand in the same room, let alone breathe the same air."


    Her voice grew shriller, each usationced with poison. "She’s nothing but a parasite,tching onto you, feeding off you, crawling her way into your life with her pathetic desperation. A street rat in a mansion no more, no less. And you let her disrespect Celina, you let her stand here as if she belongs? Are you serious Rafael?."


    She crossed her arms, her sneer widening. "Frankly, I should call the police this instant and have her dragged out for daring toy her grubby little hands on Celina. If anyone here should be humiliated, it’s her."


    Eliana’s world tilted on its axis, the words crashing over her like icy waves. Her mother—her own mother—stood there, hurling insults without a flicker of recognition in those cold eyes. How could her mother not recognize her? Eliana’s mind raced back to the faded photographs her father, Frank, had kept hidden in a drawer, pulling them out on lonely nights to whisper stories of the woman who had abandoned them. Mirabel’s face had been etched into Eliana’s memory like a scar—smooth brown skin, regal posture, that same haughty tilt of the chin. But here, in the flesh, Mirabel saw only a stranger, a "low-born intruder." The irony twisted like a knife in Eliana’s gut; the woman who had birthed her now spat venom at her as if she were dirt under her heels. Tears stung Eliana’s eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to let them fall. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare, a cruel hallucination born from the day’s emotional wreckage.


    "You’re the one acting disgraceful, Mirabel," Rafael shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his athletic frame tensing in the wheelchair as if ready to spring. "Storming in here like a scorned harpy, pping someone who’s done nothing but care for me while you’ve schemed behind my back. You’re the worst thing that ever happened to this family— a venomous snake who slithered in after my mother’s death, poisoning everything you touch. You’ve turned my siblings into entitled puppets, and now you think you can waltz in and y judge and executioner? Get out before I have you thrown out."


    Mirabel’s eyes shed with rage, herposure cracking like fine china. "How dare you speak to me that way, you blind, crippled ingrate!" She raised her hand, swift and vicious, aiming a p at Rafael’s chiseled jaw. But Rafael was faster—his pretense of blindness and paralysis didn’t extend to his reflexes. His strong hand shot up, catching her wrist in a vise-like grip. With a forceful shove, he pushed her back, sending her stumbling a few steps on her high heels, her silk skirt fluttering wildly.


    "Mom!" Celina shrieked, rushing forward with feigned horror, her morous makeup streaked from earlier crocodile tears. She clutched at Mirabel’s arm, ring daggers at Rafael. "You assaulted her! How could you? She’s your stepmother, for God’s sake! You’re nothing but a monster!"


    Rafael chuckled darkly, the sound devoid of humor, his piercing eyes fighting hard not to re at her as he wheeled back slightly. "Assaulted her? Please, Celina. Mirabel assaulted herself by showing up here uninvited, stirring up trouble like the drama queen she is. If anyone’s the monster, it’s the pair of you—sneaking around, plotting for scraps of an inheritance you don’t deserve. Now, take your hysterics elsewhere before I really lose my temper."


    Throughout the exchange, Eliana stood rooted to the spot, her slender frame trembling as she absorbed the raw hatred radiating from Rafael. It wasn’t just anger; it was a deep-seated loathing, forged in years of betrayal and family secrets. His voice, usually so calcting and controlled, now thrummed with unbridled fury, his dark wavy hair disheveled from running his hand through it earlier. She could see the scars he hid so well—the loneliness, the suspicion—cracking open in this moment. But her own mind was a whirlwind. This has to be a dream, she thought desperately, over and over, like a mantra. My mother, here, in this mansion of lies, not even knowing who I am. The room spun, the floor-to-ceiling windows blurring into streaks of twilight. Her legs buckled beneath her, knees hitting the marble with a thud that echoed like thunder in her ears. Darkness swallowed her whole as she fainted, her body crumpling in a heap.


    Rafael heard the soft gasp and the dull thump before his eyes could fully register it—Eliana copsing like a log. Panic surged through him, his heart mming against his ribs. "Eliana!" he bellowed, wheeling toward her with frantic speed. "ra! L! Get in here now! Call an ambnce—hurry!"


    The maids burst into the room, faces pale with rm. ra knelt beside Eliana, checking her pulse, while L fumbled for her phone, dialing emergency services with shaking hands.


    Mirabel watched the scene unfold with a scoff, her lips curling in disdain as she adjusted her pearls. "Pathetic," she sneered, her voiceced with mock pity. "Fainting like some fragile flower. What a weak little thing. I swear on my life, I’ll deal with her properly— she’ll regret ever crossing a Vexley." She grabbed Celina’s arm, yanking her toward the door. "Come on, darling. We’ve wasted enough time on this farce." The two stormed out, heels clicking like retreating gunfire, leaving a trail of whispered servant gossip in their wake.


    Two hourster, Eliana stirred in the crisp white sheets of a private hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic mingling with the faint beeps of monitors. Soft lighting created a gentle glow over the space, a far cry from the opulent chaos of the Vexley mansion. Her head throbbed, memories flooding back in disjointed fragments—the p, the recognition, the hatred. Rafael sat by her bedside, his wheelchair positioned close, his crisp designer suit rumpled from the wait. He had seen her eyelids flutter open moments ago, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift, but he maintained his pretense of blindness, staring slightly off to the side as if lost in thought.


    "Rafael?" Eliana whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking as she pushed herself up on her elbows. Her honey eyes searched his face, the emotional storm brewing anew. She needed to alert him, to break the silence, even as her mind raced with ns to escape this tangled web forever.


    He turned his head toward her voice, feigning surprise, his expression softening with genuine concern. "Eliana? You’re awake. Thank God. How are you feeling? The doctors said it was likely shock and exhaustion, but I was worried sick."


    She swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I... I’m okay, I think. Just a bit dizzy. What happened? I remember... everything spinning."


    Rafael reached out, his hand hovering near hers before gently taking it, his touch warm and reassuring despite the secrets he harbored. "You fainted right there in the living room. Scared the hell out of me. I’m so sorry, Eliana—for Mirabel’s unruly behavior, for the way she treated you. She’s a viper, always has been. I should have protected you better from that madness."


    Eliana nodded absently, her mind elsewhere. His apology washed over her, but it couldn’t drown out the roar in her head. Leave. I have to leave this house for good. The revtion about Mirabel, it was all too much. How could she stay in a ce where her own mother reigned as the enemy, unrecognized and unrepentant? "It’s... it’s not your fault, Rafael," she murmured, pulling her hand away subtly. "But I need time. To think."


    He tilted his head, his eyes searching the air near her face. "Time? Of course. Whatever you need. Just know I’m here. We can talk about it when you’re ready."


    But Eliana’s thoughts were already plotting her exit, the emotional walls she’d let crack now rebuilding stronger than ever. The room felt smaller, the beeps of the monitor like a countdown to her freedom.


    She had to leave Rafael Vexley’s house and life for good.