Chapter 76: Chapter 76
The media frenzy erupted around them like a wildfire. Blinding camera flashes fractured the evening light, accompanied by a deafening barrage of shouted questions from the paparazzi.
"Raphael?" Fleur whispered, her vision swimming as the world blurred into a chaos of noise and light. "What is going on?"
She tried to take a step back, to find solid ground, but Raphael’s hands were already on her. His grip was steady, but there was a distinct, possessive tightness to it—an unyielding hold that made it clear he had no intention of letting her slip away.
"Fleur..." Raphael murmured. His voice was a volatile cocktail of breathless excitement and raw, undisguised affection.
"I’ve wanted to do this for so long, but..." He let out a heavy breath, a sharp, fleeting grin flashing across his handsome features before his expression softened into something fiercely intense. "Forget it. I can’t wait anymore. I need to say this now."
His striking blue eyes locked onto hers, burning with a desperation that bordered on feral. It was only then that Fleur noticed what he was holding—a massive, lush bouquet of exotic lilies, their heavy fragrance momentarily cutting through the stifling scent of the crowded street.
"Raphael, I don’t understand why you’re doing this here," Fleur said, her voice dropping to a cautious, hurried undertone. She glanced nervously at the wall of cameras surrounding them. "Please tell me you aren’t about to do something that’s going to ruin both of our lives."
"Don’t worry, love. I would never let anything harm you," Raphael promised. But the reassurance felt heavy, almost suffocating. Before she could protest, he lifted her trembling hands to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her knuckles.
Then, he took a step back.
Fleur’s breath hitched as Raphael dropped deliberately to one knee. A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. Instinctively, Fleur clapped a hand over her mouth, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Her panicked gaze swept over the perimeter—hundreds of onlookers had stopped in their tracks, their phones raised, capturing every single second.
He planned this, she realized with a sickening jolt. He had orchestrated this entire spectacle to ensure the whole world was watching.
Raphael was high on the surge of emotion. Ever since he had seen a rival at Fleur’s house—discovering the formidable Christian invading his territory—he had been consumed by a restless anxiety.
Learning about the marriage contract from the children had only stoked the flames of his frustration.
He had spent months patiently pursuing Fleur, playing by the rules, only for a dominant, ruthless alpha billionaire to sweep in and try to lock her down. He couldn’t blame the kids; they were entirely innocent, easily swayed by Christian’s calculating charm.
But what truly terrified Raphael was the man himself.
When he had first looked into Christian’s eyes, he had been shaken to his core by the uncanny, lethal resemblance to Gabriel. They looked so terrifyingly similar they could share the same bloodline.
With Christian actively moving to claim Fleur as his bride, Raphael’s territorial instincts had roared to life. This public display wasn’t just a proposal; it was a desperate attempt to mark his territory and broadcast his claim to the world before his rival could take her away.
He held the bouquet out to her, his voice ringing with absolute, unyielding sincerity. "Fleur Swann, I love you."
The crowd erupted once more. A wave of ecstatic cheers clashed with the sharp, bitter murmurs of envy from the women watching from the sidelines.
They stared at Fleur, trying to decipher what kind of intoxicating spell an ordinary woman could have cast to make a global superstar like Raphael Dumas bend the knee on a public street, baring his soul to millions of live viewers.
"I’ve been in love with you since the very first moment our paths crossed," Raphael continued, his words pouring out with a raw, breathless honesty that made Fleur’s stomach twist.
"It was instant. Your eyes stole my heart that day, and I haven’t been able to think of anything else since. I can’t wait another day to make you mine."
He gently pressed the heavy bouquet into her hands, noticing how violently she was trembling.
Fleur took the flowers out of sheer muscle memory, her mind completely numb. He had told her he loved her in private before, and she had always managed to gently deflect, maintaining her boundaries. But this? This was a public ambush.
A deep flash of irritation flared beneath her shock. She valued her privacy above all else, and being shoved into the center of a media circus felt less like romance and more like a trap.
Before she could speak, Raphael signaled to his assistant. A sleek, red velvet box was placed into his palm.
With a deliberate, agonizingly slow movement, Raphael clicked the box open. Nestled inside was a flawless diamond, a massive, brilliant rock that caught the aggressive camera flashes and shattered the light into brilliant shards. The crowd gasped in awe.
"Fleur Swann," Raphael pleaded, his blue eyes searching hers with a desperate, begging intensity. "Please, marry me. Make me the happiest man alive."
"Raphael, you know we can’t..." Fleur began, helplessness bleeding into her tone.
"Please, Fleur," Raphael whispered, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear it, his eyes tight with silent begging. "Everyone is watching. Don’t do this to me."
Faced with the suffocating weight of the cameras, the cheering crowd, and the sheer humiliation he would suffer if she refused, Fleur felt the heavy trap close around her.
With a suppressed sigh, she slowly extended her hand.
The onlookers exploded into a deafening roar of applause as Raphael eagerly slid the heavy ring onto her finger. He stood up immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest in a tight, possessive embrace.
Cupping her face in his large hands, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth—giving the flashing cameras the perfect illusion of a passionate kiss while respecting the boundary he knew he couldn’t cross.
As the crowd cheered, Fleur felt entirely hollow. She had accepted the ring to save him from public ruin, but her heart remained completely locked away.
We are going to have a very long talk the second we are alone, she thought grimly.
As the media began to push forward, Lea stepped through the crowd, looking equal parts guilty and relieved. Fleur shot her friend a freezing, accusatory glare.
Lea raised her hands in a helpless, apologetic gesture. "I’m so sorry, Fleur. He begged me for help, and I just couldn’t say no to him."
Fleur exhaled a long, slow breath, forcing herself to suppress the spike of anger rattling her nerves. She couldn’t lose her temper here. Not now.
Meanwhile, the live broadcast was tearing across global networks, instantly setting the internet ablaze. Millions watched the superstar claim his woman—including one man sitting in a darkened high-rise penthouse across the city.
Christian sat perfectly still, his predatory gaze locked onto the television screen where Raphael was holding Fleur against his chest. A low, dangerous vibration rumbled deep in Christian’s chest, a feral sound of pure, unadulterated fury.
His grip tightened around the crystal tumbler in his hand. The glass groaned under the sudden, supernatural pressure before shattering into a thousand pieces. Sharp shards sliced into his palm, but he didn’t even flinch as blood mixed with amber liquor, dripping down his wrist.
With a sudden, violent motion, he hurled the bloody remnants of the glass straight at the television. The screen exploded in a shower of sparks and fractured glass, cutting the broadcast into absolute darkness.
Comments