Chapter 48 The Broken Merger
Vivienne's POV
The officiant was already there when we arrived. She was a small woman, maybe in her fifties, with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled.
Two crew members stood nearby as witnesses. That was it. That was our whole wedding party.
No flowers. No music. No guests. No fancy decorations or elaborate setup.
Just us and the ocean stretching out in every direction.
We stood on the deck under the stars. The boat rocked gently beneath our feet, swaying with the rhythm of the waves. I could smell the salt water mixing with Raphael's cologne. That expensive kind he always wore. The smell I'd come to associate with safety.
"Ready?" the officiant asked, looking between us.
I looked at Raphael. Really looked at him. Studied his face in the moonlight.
This man who'd been so patient with my fear. Who'd waited while I figured things out. Who'd understood when I couldn't explain what I was feeling. Who'd given me space and time and never pushed.
I thought about how I'd mentioned once, months ago, about wanting a small wedding on a boat under the stars. Just a passing comment. A dream I'd shared and then forgotten about.
But he'd remembered. He'd made it happen. My dream wedding. And I hadn't even told him directly that this was what I wanted.
"Ready," I said.
The officiant started talking but I barely heard her words. I was too focused on other things. On Raphael's hands holding mine. Strong and warm. On the way he was looking at me like I was the only person in the entire world. Like nothing else mattered except this moment right here.
"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife," the officiant said.
"I do," Raphael said. No hesitation. No pause. No doubt in his voice.
"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband," she said to me.
My voice came out smaller than I wanted. Quieter. Almost a whisper.
"I do."
The officiant smiled and pronounced us married. Husband and wife.
Raphael kissed me. Soft at first, gentle, then deeper. More certain. The crew members clapped and cheered quietly.
Just like that, I was his wife. The second time around.
And he was my husband. The second time we'd done this.
But this time felt different. This time felt real.
A few days later, everything changed.
Gaston Laurent called Raphael the next morning.
I was still asleep in Raphael's bed when his phone rang. The sun was just starting to come through the windows. I heard Raphael's voice in the other room, talking low. His tone was calm. Steady.
Final. The way he sounded when he'd made up his mind about something and nothing would change it.
When he came back he sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight.
"Gaston knows," he said simply.
My heart stopped. Actually stopped for a second. "How?"
"I told him."
I sat up fast. "You what?"
"I called him this morning. Told him we got married. Told him the truth."
"What did he say?"
Raphael smiled a little. Just a small smile at the corner of his mouth. "He said congratulations. Then he said the merger was off. Then he hung up."
I stared at him. Trying to process what he was telling me.
The Laurent-Moreau merger had been in the works for two years. Maybe longer. Worth millions and millions of dollars. It was supposed to secure both families' futures for generations. Lock in power and money and influence.
And Raphael had just blown it up.
"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.
Raphael lay down next to me. Pulled me close against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat. Steady and sure.
"I'm better than okay," he said. "I chose you over a business deal. That feels right. That feels like the right choice."
“And sooner or later he would find out that I had married the girl he's been admiring, I just had to tell him, the earlier, the better.”
I didn't know what to say. Couldn't find words.
Gaston sent a formal letter that afternoon. It arrived by messenger.
The letter was polite but clear. Very clear. The deal was dead. Finished. No hard feelings, the letter said. Best wishes for your future.
But we both knew what it meant. Gaston was angry. The Laurent family was cutting ties.
Raphael's father called sixteen times that day. Sixteen calls in a row.
Raphael didn't answer. Not once. Just let the phone ring and ring.
"Let him cool down," Raphael said, watching his phone light up again. "He'll come around eventually."
I wasn't so sure about that. Not sure at all.
I'd met Raphael's father exactly twice.
Both times he'd looked at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Like I was nothing. Nobody. Not good enough for his son.
And now Raphael had chosen me over everything his father had planned.
"What if he doesn't?" I asked. "What if he never forgives you?"
Raphael shrugged. Actually shrugged like it didn't matter.
"Then he doesn't," he said. "I'm not living my life for him anymore. I'm living it for us."
He said it so simply. Like it was the easiest decision in the world.
But I knew what it cost him. Could see it in the tension around his eyes. In the way he kept glancing at his phone even though he wouldn't answer it.
This was his family. His father. His whole world before me.
And he'd chosen me anyway.
I curled closer to him. Held on tight.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"For what?"
"For choosing me."
Raphael kissed the top of my head. "Every time," he said. "I'll choose you every time."
Outside the window, the city kept moving. People going about their lives. Not knowing that ours had just completely changed.
But inside this room, at this moment, nothing else mattered.
Just us.
Just this.
Just the choice we'd made to be together no matter what it cost.