Chapter 15: Unwanted Interruption

"Rafael!!!"

A sharp, shrill voice cut through the crashing waves.

Rafael stiffened, his jaw clenching at the familiar sound.

Damn it. Not her.

He turned to see Vivian90 storming across the beach, her long legs kicking up sand, her fiery red bikini leaving little to the imagination. The supermodel looked every bit as dramatic as ever, sunglasses perched atop her head, her manicured fingers already curled into fists.

Arabella, sensing the sudden tension, folded her arms and arched a brow.

"Vivian?" Rafael's voice held a forced casualness. "What are you doing here?"

Vivian scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "What am I doing here? Oh, I don't know, Rafael—maybe WORKING?" She placed a hand on her hip. "I have a photo shoot for this month's bikini issue. But you—" she jabbed a perfectly manicured finger at him, "—what are you doing with that bitch?"

Arabella's eyes narrowed into slits.

Rafael inhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, suddenly aware of the ticking time bomb in front of him. He needed to tread carefully.

Vivian's furious gaze flickered between the two of them, her anger growing with every second of Rafael's hesitation.

Arabella, however, was unimpressed. "Oh, please," she muttered under her breath.

Vivian wasn't interested in waiting for Rafael to form a proper excuse. She marched straight toward Arabella, her stilettos sinking into the sand as she pointed an accusatory finger.

"Just as I thought!" Vivian snapped. "Wasn't it just the other day that you denied any sort of relationship with my man? And now you're here, vacationing with him like some cheap—"

Arabella held up a hand, cutting her off. "Listen—I didn't plan to come here. He handcuffed me to his car and dragged me here against my will."

Vivian gasped theatrically, as if Arabella had just confessed to a crime. "Wait. Did you sleep with him?! Answer me!"

Arabella rolled her eyes. "Ask him yourself."

Vivian shrieked in frustration, whirling on Rafael. "DID YOU?!"

Rafael opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Arabella had already turned on her heel and walked away.

She didn't know where she was going—only that she needed to get away. Her heart pounded in her chest, her emotions tangled in a mess of frustration, embarrassment, and something else she couldn't quite name.

Why hadn't Rafael just told Vivian off? Why was he hesitating? Was he trying to protect her reputation—or was he just too cowardly to claim her?

Either way, she wanted nothing to do with it.

She walked.

And walked.

For over an hour, the distant echoes of waves and seagulls replacing the angry voices she'd left behind.

Then—

"Arabella!"

A familiar voice.

Her heart stuttered, and she turned quickly—expecting Rafael.

But it wasn't him.

It was Louis.

Relief flooded her chest, and a soft, surprised smile spread across her lips. "Louis?!"

He jogged toward her, his dark hair tousled from the breeze, his face breaking into a grin.

"I've been looking for you," he said, breathless.

"When did you get here?" she asked, stepping closer.

"A week ago." He exhaled, his eyes warm and searching. "I missed you."

Arabella felt something in her chest tighten. "I missed you too," she whispered. And before she could stop herself, she flung her arms around him.

Louis hugged her back tightly, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a safety net. Tears stung her eyes, unexpected and uninvited, but she didn't stop them.

At that moment, nothing else mattered.

Except—

"HEY!!"

A furious shout shattered the peace.

Arabella's body tensed as she pulled away, turning toward the voice.

Rafael.

Standing just a few feet away, fists clenched at his sides, his dark eyes blazing as they locked onto the scene before him.

Arabella still wrapped in Louis' arms.

Her tear-streaked face pressed against his chest.

"Let her go, you bastard!" Rafael's voice thundered across the beach, making both of them jump apart.

Arabella wiped her cheeks quickly, but the damage had already been done.

Louis frowned. "And you are...?"

Rafael stormed toward them, shoulders rigid, his every movement screaming barely contained rage. "Who the hell are you?"

Arabella let out a sigh, half-exasperated, half-delighted at the perfect opportunity to get back at him. She turned to Rafael with a smug smirk.

"This," she said sweetly, "is Louis. My first love."

Rafael froze.

His expression shifted from furious to absolutely murderous in a second.

"What?!" he snapped.

Before Arabella could react, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him.

"Come here."

"Excuse me?" Louis protested, stepping forward.

Rafael pointed a finger at him, his glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Listen, Loser—"

"Louis," he corrected, unimpressed.

"Whatever! Leslie, Loser—I don't care! Just don't touch my girl again, got it?" Rafael's voice was low, dangerous.

Arabella yanked her wrist free with a glare. "I'm not your girl!"

Rafael barely looked at her. "Baby, be quiet. I'll settle this."

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath.

"Louis is a friend," she added firmly.

To prove her point, she looped her arm through Louis' and leaned into him just enough to infuriate Rafael further.

His face darkened.

"Arabella," Rafael warned.

She ignored him, flashing Louis a bright, cheerful smile. "Shall we go?"

Louis, sensing the tension but clearly enjoying Rafael's irritation, smirked. "Of course."

Together, they strolled toward the nearby restaurant, leaving Rafael standing there, seething.

His jaw clenched so tight it could crack.

His hands curled into fists.

Oh, hell no.

How dare she walk away from him—on his beach—with another man?

Rafael raked a furious hand through his hair, his mind a whirlwind of jealousy, irritation, and bruised ego.

He refused to be replaced.

He kicked at the sand—once, twice, three times—then on the fifth kick, his foot caught awkwardly, and he lost his balance.

With an unceremonious thud, he landed flat on his ass.

He pounded the ground with a fist, growling in frustration.

But when he looked up—Arabella and Louis had disappeared inside the restaurant.

Rafael narrowed his eyes.

Fine.

If she thought she could just waltz off with another man and not face consequences—

She had another thing coming.

With a determined scowl, he dusted himself off and strode toward the restaurant doors.

One thing was for sure.

This wasn't over.

***

Arabella and Louis sat in a cozy café, their mugs of coffee warming their hands as they reminisced. The years seemed to melt away as they laughed, sharing stories of their college days in Paris—their first awkward encounters, late-night study sessions, and spontaneous adventures that had filled their youth with excitement.

It had been three years since they last saw each other, yet the connection between them was still there, as though time had barely passed.

"So, what brought you to the United States?" Arabella asked, curiosity lighting her features.

Louis leaned back, smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. "I got transferred to work on a construction project in New York. And, well, I wanted to see you again," he added softly, his eyes lingering on her with a look that made her heart skip a beat. "You're more beautiful than I remember."

Her heart fluttered, a mix of warmth and surprise. "What about you and Sandy?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Louis' smile faded slightly. "We're divorced. But... I've been thinking," he said, his hand reaching for hers across the table. His thumb brushed lightly against her skin, a touch filled with longing. "Do you think it's too late for us? Could we start over?"

Arabella froze, her chest tightening. She wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. Was she ready for this? After all these years, with everything that had happened since? She stared at Louis, searching for something, but found only the earnest look in his eyes.

Before she could respond, her eyes flickered to the corner of the café, and the blood drained from her face. Rafael. Standing in the shadows, his body tense, his jaw clenched. He watched them with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

He didn't say a word, but the fury emanating from him was palpable.

Arabella felt her stomach twist. She was acutely aware of how close Louis' hand was to hers, the way their fingers nearly touched, and the way Rafael's gaze pierced through her with a mix of anger and something darker.

Rafael cursed under his breath, eyes never leaving the couple. The scene before him—Arabella smiling sweetly at Louis—was more than he could bear. His grip tightened around the edge of the menu, and before he knew it, he was chewing on it like some deranged animal. His mind raced, spiraling out of control. The waitress approached, sensing the tension, but when she asked if he wanted to order, Rafael's response was a growl.

"A knuckle sandwich!" he snapped, his voice low and threatening.

The waitress blinked, confused. "Sorry, sir, that's not on the menu."

Rafael's rage peaked. "Nothing. Just go away!" he yelled, the sound echoing in the quiet café. His outburst sent the nearby patrons glancing nervously at each other, then hastily leaving. Even the waitress scurried away, her face pale.

Rafael reached for his water, intending to take a calming sip, but instead, in a fit of anger, he poured it all over his head, the cold liquid doing nothing to quell the fire burning inside him. He looked around, seeing people at other tables hastily gathering their things, and his rage only grew. He watched as Arabella and Louis got up from the table, heading out of the café. His fists clenched so tight it felt like his nails were cutting into his palms.

He followed them out into the bustling market street, the warmth of the sun doing little to soothe his nerves. He trailed them from a distance, his eyes locked on the way Louis hovered just a little too close to Arabella. His stomach churned with jealousy as they moved from booth to booth, picking out accessories like a couple in love. He couldn't stand it. He saw Louis buy a heart-shaped necklace, asking if he could put it on her. Arabella turned, her back to him, smiling at the gesture.

Rafael seethed. His anger flared, and before he could think, he reached for a child passing by, his lollipop glistening under the sun. With a snarl, he snatched the candy from the little boy's hand, imagining it was Louis' head, and snapped it in half with a satisfying crunch. He handed the broken pieces back to the crying child, who ran to his mother, terrified. Rafael's pulse raced, his chest tight with frustration.

He turned his attention back to Louis, his eyes burning with hatred. That bastard can't even afford the real thing, Rafael fumed. That's why he's dragging her through this cheap market.

The couple continued their stroll, and after hours of shopping, they climbed into a three-wheeled taxi, a touristy thing meant for sightseeing. Rafael followed, his eyes never leaving them. He pretended to read a newspaper at the front desk of the hotel they entered, but every inch of his being was consumed by the sight of them laughing, talking, touching. Arabella didn't even notice him, too caught up in the moment.

He clenched his fists, ripping the newspaper in half as his anger boiled over. The couple separated outside the hotel, exchanging a few more words before Louis gave her one final hug. Rafael snapped. He slammed the torn newspaper onto the ground, the sound of it tearing through the tense silence like a scream. He wanted to hurt something, anything, to release the pressure building in his chest.

Arabella didn't see him as she made her way back to the beach house. She probably thought he was out with Vivian, but Rafael was back at the house minutes later, stalking through the rooms for her. When he heard the shower running, his heart hammered in his chest. He walked into the kitchen, his hands trembling as he grabbed a screwdriver from a drawer.

He didn't even think as he fumbled with the bathroom lock, his mind a mess of emotions. The lock clicked open, and the door creaked slightly as he pushed it open. The steam hit him immediately, and through the mist, he saw her silhouette—her body, the way it moved. His breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, he slid the door open further.

Arabella spun around, her eyes wide with shock. "Get out!" she screamed, her hands flying to cover herself.

Rafael's breath was shallow as he stared at her, rage mixing with desire. "Why did you let that loser touch you?!" His voice was a growl, low and furious.

"Get out!" she yelled again, her voice trembling with both fear and anger. "You've crossed the line—respect my privacy!"

Rafael stepped closer, but his anger swelled. He didn't know why he was so heated, why his jealousy consumed him like this. He clenched his fists, fighting to stay calm. "Baby, after last night, there's no such thing as privacy between us."

Her gaze hardened. "It's Louis. My ex. My first love."

His heart slammed against his chest. "And now?"

She met his gaze, her voice sharp. "It's none of your business. Get out."

Rafael froze. Her words stung more than he expected. He felt the ache in his chest, but before he could respond, something caught his eye—something that made his mind spiral even further.

Arabella. Completely naked.