Chapter 26 Be my wife
Raphael's POV
I didn't know what came over me or what prompted me to ask Vivienne to spend the night with me. Maybe it was the kiss we had shared in the hallway, still fresh and tingling on my lips.
Or maybe it was the dance we had earlier in the evening, our bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Or perhaps it was the way her fingers had played gently on my chest while we were at the dance club, sending shivers down my spine with every touch.
But whatever the reason was, whatever had pushed me to this moment, I was ready to find out. I was ready to see where this would lead us.
And here I was now, sitting across from her in her room. We had moved inside after my sudden proposal in the hallway, and now we faced each other, the air between us charged with anticipation.
I couldn't stop staring at her pretty face, watching the way the soft light caught her features. She was smiling at me, that same smile from the hallway, warm and curious.
I knew I had to explain myself. I couldn't just drop that bombshell about wanting her to be my fake wife without giving her the full story. She deserved to understand why.
"You know, the board of trustees in my company—the company that I built from the ground up—wants me to get married,"
I blurted out suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could think too much about them. I watched her face carefully, waiting to see how she would react to this news.
Her expression changed immediately. The smile that had been lighting up her face disappeared, replaced by pure surprise.
Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth fell open in shock. She stared at me like she couldn't quite believe what she had just heard. Her lips remained parted, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. It was clear she hadn't been expecting this kind of news from me at all.
"Why?" she finally asked, her voice softer now but filled with confusion. One of her eyebrows raised even higher, demanding an explanation.
I let out a long breath, preparing myself to tell her the whole frustrating story.
"They said it's for the sake of the company," I began, my voice carrying a hint of bitterness.
"Apparently, my reputation as a bachelor is somehow affecting the company's image. They think I need to settle down, to show stability and responsibility.
So they've made it clear—if I want to retain my position in the company, the company I created with my own two hands, I have to get married."
I paused, letting the weight of those words settle between us.
"Can you believe that?" I added, shaking my head slightly. "They're basically holding my own company hostage unless I put a ring on someone's finger."
I nodded.
“I see.”
She said,
she was staring but not directly at me. Maybe she was thinking about the whole arrangement and how wicked my family who happens to be the board of trustees are.
Just then the chef came with all the food, and cookies I instructed her to bring.
We had light conversations, we talked about her family, Margot and her daughter.
It was a fun night, I found out that I was free with her, she's intelligent, she's smart and pretty and she would make a good fake wife at least for one year.
I said to myself, the problem now is asking her directly to be my fake wife for at least a year just to get Damien and his mother off my back.
"Thanks for tonight, I had fun," she said softly.
We had just finished dinner together, and both of us were starting to feel tired. The evening had been nice, and we agreed it was time to head to bed. We walked down the hallway together, our footsteps quiet on the floor.
When we reached her bedroom door, she turned to face me with a gentle smile.
"Good night," she said warmly.
I started to say good night back, but then I stopped myself. Something inside me knew I couldn't just let her walk away. Not yet. Not without doing something that would keep her wondering about us, about what exactly was happening between us.
"Vivienne, wait!" The words burst out of me, louder than I meant them to be.
She paused with her hand still on the door handle. Slowly, she turned around to face me fully. Her eyes met mine, curious and questioning. I couldn't help but notice how full and inviting her lips looked in the dim hallway light.
My heart was pounding in my chest. "I like you," I said, my voice quieter now but steady.
Before I could second-guess myself, I stepped closer and brought my lips to hers. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing too intense or passionate. Just calm and sweet, expressing something I couldn't quite put into words.
When I pulled back, I could see the surprise written all over her face. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were slightly parted in shock. But then, after a moment, a smile slowly spread across her face. That smile told me everything I needed to know—she had liked it too.
"I like how private and calm you are," I continued, the words flowing more easily now. "And I don't think I want any other person other than you."
Her eyebrows drew together in confusion.
"Other than me? What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.
I took a deep breath. This was it—the moment I had to say what I really needed from her.
"I want you to be my wife," I said clearly.
Her eyes grew even wider, they were wide open in shock.
I paused for just a second before adding the most important part: "My fake wife... for at least a year!"