Chapter 21 (Author’s POV)

The moment Amanda shut the door behind them, Raphael's father strode into the office with the kind of poise that could only belong to a man of wealth and influence.

His presence commanded the room, his tailored suit a seamless blend of power and elegance. There was no doubt-this was a man used to having the world bend to his will.

His sharp gaze flickered toward Amanda, a slow, assessing look, before a faint smirk played at his lips.

"I must say, I never imagined my son would settle for someone so... young," he remarked, his voice deep and refined, carrying the weight of generations of affluence.

"I always assumed he'd choose a woman closer to his age."

Amanda chuckled softly, unbothered by the remark. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

He inclined his head slightly.

"Likewise." His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he added, "You're very pretty, Amanda. I have no doubt that, before long, you'll give me grandchildren."

Amanda smiled politely, though something about his words sent an odd feeling through her.

A heavy silence settled in the room until Raphael finally spoke, his voice laced with impatience. "What are you doing here, Dad?"

His father feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. "Is that any way to speak to your old man? Won't you at least offer me a seat? Perhaps a hot cup of coffee?"

Amanda glanced at Raphael, who only clenched his jaw in irritation. Not wanting the tension to thicken, she interjected smoothly, "Don't mind his manners, sir. I'll get you a cup of coffee."

Walking to the side of the office, where an elegant coffee station was set up, Amanda carefully poured a steaming cup, the rich aroma filling the air.

As she moved, she stole a glance at Raphael's father, watching how he lowered himself into the chair opposite his son with a practiced ease, exuding the kind of effortless authority that only came with experience.

When she returned, she handed him the cup with a polite smile before settling into her own seat, observing as the conversation unfolded.

The older man took a slow sip of his coffee before setting the cup down. "So, tell me, Raphael," he began, his tone casual, though there was an underlying weight to it.

"When do you plan to bring Amanda home? Your mother is eager to meet her. Bella, too."

Amanda's fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress. Bella? The name echoed in her mind, stirring something deep within her memory.

Bella.

That was the name she had seen at the back of the picture on Raphael's desk. The same name she had brushed off at the time, thinking little of it. But now, hearing it spoken so effortlessly by his father made something inside her stir with unease.

Still, she remained silent, unwilling to let her curiosity slip.

Raphael, however, leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening. "That's none of your concern," he said coldly. "I have no plans of going home anytime soon."

His father sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Raphael, your mother misses you. She would love for you to come home, even if just for a short while. Your cousins miss you too."

Raphael scoffed, his expression hardening. "No, she doesn't." His voice was sharper now, filled with a bitterness Amanda hadn't heard before. "She's always made me feel like I was never truly part of the family. Ever since what happened six years ago."

Amanda's heart skipped a beat. Six years ago? What had happened back then?

His father exhaled slowly, as if the conversation had worn him down. "That left a mark on all of us, Raphael. Not just you."

A tense silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and lingering resentment. Finally, his father stood, smoothing down his jacket before turning to Amanda. "It was truly a pleasure meeting you," he said, though his eyes carried something unreadable.

Then, his gaze shifted back to his son. "I hope you reconsider, Raphael. It would be good for you to spend time with your family again." He hesitated, his expression softening just slightly. "It's nice seeing you, son."

And with that, he walked out of the office, leaving behind an air of finality.

The moment the door shut behind him, Raphael shot to his feet, his hands slamming against the desk with a resounding thud. The sound startled Amanda, making her flinch. His entire body was tense, his shoulders rising and falling with restrained anger.

She hesitated before stepping closer. "Raphael-"

"Don't," he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. "Just go home."

Amanda frowned, concerned. "I don't think-"

"I said go home, Amanda!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the office.

The sudden outburst sent a wave of coldness through her. She stared at him for a moment, trying to understand the storm raging within him, but he refused to meet her eyes.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned away, her head bowed as she walked toward the door. She wanted to say something-anything-but the tension in the room made it impossible.

Without another word, she stepped out, closing the door softly behind her.