Chapter 114
Mila’s breath hitched as she looked down at the velvet tray. She had never seen such breathtaking craftsmanship up close. Under the store’s soft gallery lights, the diamonds flared like captured starlight, scattering tiny prisms of rainbow light across the velvet surface.
Leaning close beside her, Raphael watched her expression with an amused, possessive smile. "Select whichever piece calls to you, sweetheart," he urged softly, his deep voice rich with a warmth that sounded dangerously genuine.
Mila hesitated, her fingers hovering over the display. Every single ring looked like a piece of history. Finally, she picked up a classic platinum band crowned with a brilliant princess-cut diamond. But the moment her eyes caught the astronomical price tag, her heart leaped into her throat, and she immediately dropped the ring back onto the tray.
"What’s wrong, babe?" Raphael asked, his brow furrowing as he reached out and gently gathered her trembling hand in his.
Mila glanced at the glittering jewel, then up at Raphael, her voice dropping to a faint, embarrassed whisper. "They are... every single one of them is obscenely expensive."
"Do not concern yourself with the price," Raphael declared, his voice ringing clearly across the showroom for every associate and spectator to hear. "Select whatever your heart desires, my love. Nothing in this store compares to what I feel for you."
A fiery blush rushed to Mila’s cheeks at his loud declaration. Even though she knew it was a carefully choreographed performance for their audience, a traitorous flutter bloomed in her chest.
For a fleeting second, it felt real. But reality quickly asserted itself; a world-renowned wolf of his stature would never truly fall for a plain, quiet publicist like her. It was a foolish fantasy to even entertain the thought.
Still, she understood her role in this narrative. To make the story believable, she needed to pick a piece magnificent enough to dominate the national tabloids. The astronomical price tag would fuel the media frenzy, guaranteeing that news of Raphael Dumas securing a secret love interest would go viral by nightfall. She could simply return the ring to his safe after the divorce—it wasn’t truly hers, anyway.
Reaching back down, she picked up the princess-cut solitaire and held it up to him. "This one," she said quietly.
Raphael leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, "A breathtaking choice, my love."
The heat of his breath against her skin sent an electric shiver straight down her spine, leaving her momentarily breathless and entirely disoriented.
"Let’s see how it looks on your finger," Raphael announced smoothly. Taking the heavy platinum band from her, he slid the ring onto her finger.
Mila held her breath as the diamond sparkled against her skin. When she looked up, she found Raphael staring down at her hand, a complex storm of unreadable emotions swirling in his striking blue eyes.
A quiet pang touched Raphael’s mind. Part of his heart still mourned that it wasn’t Fleur wearing his name, still struggling with the reality of this hasty, contract-bound union forced by pride, press, and studio pressure. Yet he found peace in knowing Fleur was safe and happy with the Alpha she had chosen—a male who truly deserved her loyalty.
Shifting his focus back to the present, Raphael caught the delicate twinkle of awe in Mila’s eyes. A strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in his chest.
He had worked alongside her for years, but he had never seen her face light up like this. In that moment, if she had asked for every vault in the store just to keep that soft smile on her face, his wolf would have handed it to her without a second thought.
"It fits as if it were forged for her," the sales associate chimed in, beaming.
"That is because it belongs to my future wife," Raphael declared, his tone laced with a quiet, territorial authority.
Mila’s pulse fluttered wildly. She had an entire year ahead of her with this irresistible, enigmatic boss. It was a dizzying shift; she had never experienced this level of sweet, attentive care from anyone in her life—not from her family, and certainly not from Daniel. She let out a quiet, inward sigh at the thought.
"Pack this ring immediately," Raphael instructed, passing his black card to the associate. "We are taking it."
"Would you care to view our bridal necklaces or matching bracelets, sir?" the woman asked eagerly.
"Whatever my lady desires," Raphael replied, looking down at Mila with unconditional devotion in his eyes.
Mila stood frozen, marveling at his sheer skill. He was such a brilliant actor that he could make her feel cherished with a single glance. It was no wonder directors fought over him; the man could inhabit any role effortlessly.
"No, that is more than enough," Mila replied, her voice soft and shy.
"Nonsense," Raphael countered with a charming smirk. "We need formal pieces for the gala, and we must order our custom wedding bands as well."
The associate’s eyes lit up as she hurried to retrieve the bespoke bridal trays. Mila let out a soft sigh of surrender, overwhelmed by the momentum of it all. To the world, Raphael looked like a besotted groom shopping for the love of his life. He commissioned matching heavy platinum bands, ordering their names deeply engraved on the inner curves—Mila’s name inscribed inside his ring, and Raphael’s inside hers.
When the glass doors of the boutique finally opened, a sea of flashing cameras and shouting journalists erupted across the plaza. News of their presence had leaked, and a swarm of paparazzi had completely overwhelmed the sidewalk.
Raphael’s private security detail instantly formed a tight, impenetrable wall of muscle around the couple, shoving back the surging press.
Before the cameras could capture her face, Raphael smoothly shed his dark designer jacket and draped it over Mila’s head and shoulders, tucking her close against his chest. Wrapped in his warmth and saturated with his rich scent of cedar and amber, Mila let him guide her through the chaotic crowd.
Even with her face hidden, the images of the global icon shielding a mystery woman in his arms while carrying a luxury jewelry bag were more than enough. Within minutes, the photos hit the wire—igniting the most viral, sensational headline of the year.
***
She knew Fleur came to visit him today. She knew it was most likely because of their fake engagement. She knew Fleur did not love Raphael the way he loved her. And yet... As she raised her hand to knock on his door, she could not help but feel anxious.
"Come in," his voice rang smoothly from behind the door.
"Are you busy? Should I come back later?" Mila asked promptly, hovering near the threshold out of worry that she was interrupting an important discussion.
"No, it’s fine. Come in," Raphael replied, swinging the heavy mahogany door wide to welcome her inside.
As Mila crossed the threshold, her eyes landed on Fleur resting on the velvet sofa. Fleur had crossed paths with Mila on several occasions through studio events and genuinely admired the young publicist’s work ethic. Offering a soft, warm smile, Fleur stood up and walked toward her.
"Mila, I came by to congratulate you and Raphael in person," Fleur said warmly, taking Mila’s hand in a gentle, reassuring grip.
"Thank you, Fleur," Mila replied with a polite smile, though an unexpected, quiet twinge of envy flickered deep in her chest. She knew Raphael’s heart belonged entirely to the woman standing before her. It baffled Mila how any woman could turn away a man who possessed such undeniable power, devastating charm, and absolute devotion.
"I’ve said all I wanted to say. I’ll leave you two to finalize your arrangements," Fleur said, checking her watch. "I have an urgent meeting at the design studio in half an hour."
Raphael let out an involuntary, disappointed sigh. He yearned for Fleur to stay longer, but he forced himself to maintain his composure in front of his future bride.
"Alright. Drive carefully, and call me if you need anything at all," Raphael assured her, pulling Fleur into a brief, protective embrace purely out of long-standing habit.
Fleur nodded, turning toward the foyer. She pulled open the heavy door and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.
The moment the latch clicked shut, the energy in the study shifted drastically. Mila watched Raphael as he remained frozen, his gaze lingering on the closed door as if he could still sense Fleur’s fading scent in the hall.
"You truly care for her, don’t you?" Mila asked softly.
Raphael turned back to her, his sharp features softening into an enigmatic smile as he gave a slight, casual shrug, choosing not to voice the raw feelings lingering in his chest.
"So, my sharp-eyed coordinator... what does the agenda look like for today?" he asked, neatly pivoting the conversation.
"We are scheduled for your suit fitting, my wedding dress trial, and the confectioner’s cake tasting," Mila listed, stepping back into her familiar, efficient groove. "The venue reservation is locked, and I’ve forwarded the finalized guest list to your personal device. Please review it and give me your formal approval before five."
Raphael couldn’t help but chuckle at her strictly corporate cadence, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
"You really don’t know how to turn off the manager mindset, do you?" he teased, stepping closer. "This is our wedding preparation. You’re allowed to relax and enjoy the luxury."
Mila rolled her eyes, her lips pressing into a flat line. "With all due respect, Mr. Dumas, fulfilling this contract is still my primary job—and managing your high-profile life is hardly a vacation."
"Fair enough," Raphael huffed, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he slid a pair of dark designer sunglasses over his striking blue eyes. "Let’s get this dress trial over with."
"We’ll just have to teach you how to enjoy yourself eventually," he muttered under his breath as he strode past her.
Mila caught every word. Suppressing an annoyed huff, she shook her head and followed her relentless boss out of the study.