In the grand Vexley mansion, where shadows danced along the ornate hallways like whispers of forgotten secrets, Rafael Vexley guided his beloved wife Eliana Bennett up the sweeping staircase. The air was thick with the remnants of the day's emotional storm—the confrontation with Celine and Caleb still echoed faintly in the distance, but inside these walls, a fragile peace had begun to settle. Rafael's hand, strong and commanding yet tender in its grip on hers, led the way. His tall, athletic frame moved with the effortless grace of a man accustomed to power, his crisp designer suit whispering against the polished banister. Eliana, slender and elegant with her warm brown skin glowing under the soft chandelier light, followed closely, her long curly black hair flowing down her back like a midnight waterfall. Her honey eyes, still rimmed with the residue of earlier happy tears, held a mix of exhaustion and affection as she glanced up at him.
