Raul's Bought Bride

Chapter 10

Amanda jolted awake with a gasp, her entire body pulsing with a fierce, spreading pain. Desperately, she tried to shift her position, but the IV tethered her firmly to the bed, a constant reminder of her fragile condition. "OW!" she whimpered, her voice echoing in the quiet, sterile room. As she settled back onto the linens, her eyes caught sight of Raul, soundly asleep in a creaking chair across the room, the soft rise and fall of his chest betraying the peaceful slumber he enjoyed.

No sooner had her cry faded than Raul sprang to his feet, his movements urgent and determined. Rushing to her bedside, Amanda's gaze flitted over him—she noted how his dark hair was rebelliously disheveled and that a hint of a scruffy beard had grown along his jawline. "You awake, cara mia?" he murmured breathlessly as he enveloped her in a heartfelt, almost desperate embrace. The sudden, forceful closeness sent a shock of pain through her body, and she stifled a cry, yet she clung to his warmth with all her heart, accepting even the discomfort for the sake of his nearness.

"What... how long have I been here?" she asked in a trembling tone, her voice ragged with confusion and lingering pain.

"A few days, my love. Please, rest—not just for yourself, but for our child's sake too. Both of you have been through so much," Raul pleaded, his eyes brimming with concern as he leaned down to press a gentle, tender kiss on her forehead, infusing the moment with fragile hope.

The mention of their unborn child sent a shiver down her spine. "The baby—"

"It's alright," he interrupted softly, a note of reassurance threading through his words. "They ran tests; you're both in good health. I truly thought I had lost you both." His voice faltered and his eyes closed for a moment, an anguished look crossing his features as the memory of fear washed over him.

"We're okay," Amanda soothed him, though her voice quavered with the lingering remnants of terror. "But that moment—when a gun was pointed at me—I genuinely believed it was all over."

"No, my love! Please, don't let that thought take hold," Raul insisted, his tone urgent as he reached out to comfort her.

"Raul—" Amanda began, her voice faltering under the weight of raw emotion.

"No. Let me speak," he said, raising a steady hand to gently quiet her. "I love you. I always have. I've hidden the more broken parts of me, parts that were left raw and damaged. When my father declared that I must marry, it felt like being thrown headlong into chaos—I never understood commitment, always retreating to my little safe corner. And then you came along, shattering every wall I had erected. When I saw Josephine, with that gun trembling in her hands, I was overcome by a terror so real it shook me to my core—not for my own sake, but for yours. The fear of losing you gripped me. Amanda, I love you more than words can capture. I have been foolish, and I beg for your forgiveness. Please, allow me to prove how deeply I care for you."

"I know, baby, I know," she whispered, her eyes pooling with genuine love and a tender understanding that bridged the gap between pain and hope.

In that heartfelt moment, the lingering shadows of fear receded, replaced by a radiant reassurance of happiness and steadfast love.

Away from their intimate cocoon of healing, Josephine was quietly taken to a stark mental facility in Baraka, where she spent her remaining days in enforced solitude until her eventual passing a few years later.

Time marched on, and Amanda eventually gave birth to a beautiful little girl named Samata. With cascading, dark silky hair and soulful brown eyes that unmistakably mirrored her father's, Samata was destined to carry forth the legacy of Zahara. Amanda and Raul went on to build a family with three children in all—the eldest being the luminous heir Samata, followed by Luscious and Zaham, each a cherished continuation of their shared love and journey.