Chapter 33 A marriage with conditions.
Rapheal's POV
Claudine's face went red. I could see her jaw tighten, her hands balling into fists at her sides. For a moment, I thought she might actually hit me. Part of me almost wanted her to try.
"How dare you talk to me like that?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "After everything I've done for you. After all the years I've been there for your father, for this family."
“You’ve been there for my father, not for me.”
I let out a bitter laugh that surprised even me.
"Done for me? You've done nothing but make my life miserable since the day you married my father. You think I don't see what you're doing? You think I'm blind to your games?"
She took a step closer, pointing her finger at my chest.
"That girl downstairs is nobody. She's using you, Rapheal. Can't you see that? She's after your money, your name, everything you have. And you're too stupid to realize it."
"Get out," I said quietly.
"What?"
"I said get out of my house. Now." My voice was steady now, cold even. The anger had settled into something harder, something terrible and dangerous.
Claudine stared at me like I'd slapped her across the face. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out at first.
"You can't be serious," she finally managed. "Where am I supposed to go?"
"I don't care. You’ve your own house but you choose to come here, to dictate how I live my life. And now, I don't care anymore. Go to a hotel. Go to Damien's place. Go anywhere but here. This is my house, and you're no longer welcome in it."
"Your father will hear about this," she threatened, but her voice wavered. She was losing her power and she knew it.
"Tell him," I shot back. "Tell him how you came into my home without permission, how you threw out my guest, how you've been trying to control every aspect of my life. Including my company. See what he says."
We both knew my father wouldn't care. He'd stopped caring about anything except his new wife years ago. That's how Claudine had gotten this far in the first place.
She opened her mouth to say something else, but I was done listening.
"You have ten minutes to get your things and leave. After that, I'm calling security."
I walked past her and headed back downstairs. My legs felt shaky, like I'd just run a marathon. I'd never stood up to Claudine like that before. Never told her to leave, never put my foot down so completely.
It felt terrifying and amazing at the same time.
Vivienne was still standing outside near her bags when I got to the front door. She looked up at me, her expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it. "You shouldn't have been treated that way. Not in my house. Not anywhere."
She studied my face for a long moment.
"What did you do?" she asked quietly.
"I told her to leave. For good this time."
Her eyebrows shot up. "You kicked out your stepmother?"
"She's not my family. Not really. And she had no right to do what she did to you."
Vivienne's face softened just a little. She picked up one of her bags and I quickly grabbed the other two before she could.
"Let me help you bring these back inside," I said.
We walked back into the house together, and I could hear Claudine upstairs, slamming drawers and muttering angry words I couldn't quite make out. Good. Let her be angry. I was done caring about her feelings.
I helped Vivienne carry her things back up to the guest room she'd been staying in. We didn't talk much, just moved in silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It felt like we understood each other somehow.
When the last bag was back in place, Vivienne turned to face me.
"Why did you do that?" she asked. "You could have just asked her to leave. It would have been easier."
I shook my head.
"Because it was wrong. What she did was wrong, and I'm tired of letting people walk all over me in my own life."
"Even if it causes problems with your family?"
"Especially then."
She smiled a little at that, the first real smile I'd seen from her since I got home.
"Thank you," she said simply.
Before I could respond, we heard the sound of Claudine's heels clicking down the stairs, followed by the slam of the front door. A car engine started outside, then faded as she drove away.
Just like that, she was gone.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. The house suddenly felt lighter somehow, like a heavy cloud had lifted.
"So," Vivienne said, breaking the silence.
"About tonight. About my answer to your proposal."
My heart started beating faster. With everything that had just happened, I'd almost forgotten about her message, about the meeting we'd planned.
"You said 7pm," she continued. "But since we're both here now, and since you just threw out your stepmother for me..." She paused, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
"Maybe we should talk now instead?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice to stay steady.
"There's a sitting room downstairs," I managed. "We can talk there."
She followed me down, and we sat across from each other on the couches. The evening light was coming through the windows, casting long shadows across the room.
Vivienne took a deep breath.
"I've been thinking about what you said last night. About the fake marriage that could become real. About building something together."
I waited, my hands gripped tight on my knees.
"It's crazy," she continued. "The whole thing is absolutely crazy. We barely know each other. This could blow up in both our faces."
My heart sank. She was going to say no. Of course she was going to say no. Why would she agree to something so ridiculous?
But then she smiled.
"So let's do it," she said. "Let's be crazy together.
My answer is yes.”
I smiled. Finally,
“However, before you start thanking me, it comes with a condition.”