Romans de Mercyogochi

Raphael’s POVAs I walked back into the mansion, my eyes landed on a feminine figure standing in the center of the room with crossed arms.“Why are you standing there and looking at me like that?” I interrogated Henrietta as I approached her.“Who's she?” Henrietta replied back, ignoring my question.I fixed my hands into my pockets, “Why should I tell you that?”Henrietta breathed a laughter, one that came from the surprise of my words.“Oh you don't think I deserve to know? Why am I here acting like a fake wife if you already got someone else in your life?” Henrietta questioned, her hands gesturing towards the door.I shook my head from ear to ear, “There was someone else in my life but then, one day there wasn't anymore and that's why I got into a contract marriage with you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to be up in my room.” Following this, I walked past her but Henrietta pulled me back with a force that I never knew could come from her arms.“What's wrong with you?” I questio

Raphael's POV.“Well, are you going to speak or not?” Kristine's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat as a result of the news.“Kristine…I don't know…I understand your reason for coming back but I don't think you're welcome in my life at the moment.” The truth was bitter but I had to say it anyway.I couldn't give her the hope that there was still a space in my life for her after abandoning me for so long. But now..she wasn't the only one. We had a child together.Would it be fair that I let the child grow without a father?“Really? Yes, I left you but you're seriously not going to make a compromise? Not even for your child? I'm sorry but I won't leave until you take me back!” Kristine's sharp voice made my heart tremble.I clenched my fists but I soon released them as I stared at her, she stood rooted to the ground with firm arms that rounded her chest.Christ. What was this? How possible was it to manage two women in my life? What sort o

“Why are you with my phone?”I didn’t know what irritated me more—the fact that Henrietta was holding my phone or the way she quickly tried to mask her guilt. My eyes narrowed as I stepped forward, crossing the space between us in long, measured strides. “Why are you with my phone?” My voice was sharp, leaving no room for excuses. Henrietta’s fingers twitched before she quickly placed the phone back on the nightstand. She turned to face me, her lips parting slightly before she spoke. “I was just… checking the time,” she said, a little too fast. “I needed to know how much time I had left to arrange your clothes and then rush down to serve your dinner.” I raised a brow, unconvinced. She avoided my eyes, instead reaching for one of the suits I had draped over the chair. “Next time, use the clock,” I said flatly, picking up my phone. My screen was still on, the notification banner glowing softly. My grip tightened the second I saw the sender’s name. Kristine. For a moment, I

"If I had been told three months ago that I'd find myself falling for Raphael, I'd never believe it."Three months ago, I never would have imagined this. Back then, I had been desperate, willing to do anything to save my brother. And now, he was safe, studying in another city, walking on his own two feet again. That was all that mattered… or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself. But the truth was, something else had changed—I had changed. I didn’t know when or how it had happened, but somewhere along the line, I had started falling for my husband. It was foolish, I knew that. This marriage wasn’t real. It was a business deal, a transaction that benefited us both. I had agreed to it knowing that Raphael Gold didn’t believe in love. That he was only doing this because of the ultimatum his father had given him. And yet, I had convinced myself that maybe—just maybe—things could be different. Raphael wasn’t a terrible husband, at least not in front of his father. He pl

"The operation needs to commence now." The doctor’s words echoed in my head like a relentless drum, pounding over and over again as I stepped out of his office. My body moved on autopilot, my hands clutching the strap of my worn-out bag as if it were the only thing anchoring me to reality. I walked through the hospital corridor, the scent of antiseptic burning my nose. Doctors and nurses passed me, their faces neutral, their steps quick and purposeful. No one spared me a glance. No one saw the storm raging inside me. But my world was falling apart. I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. My brother had fallen again—another accident that proved how fragile his condition was. And now, the damage was worse. The doctors said he needed immediate surgery. But the cost… I had been saving for years, taking extra shifts at the bar, cutting back on everything I could. Yet, even after all the sacrifices, all the sleepless nights, it still wasn’t enough.

Raphael’s POVI woke up with a headache and an unfamiliar scent clinging to my sheets. Something was wrong. My body felt sluggish, my mind foggy from the alcohol I had drowned myself in last night. I groaned, running a hand over my face before turning toward the warmth beside me. The woman from last night. I had been impatient to see what I was paying for, but the moment I finally got a look at her face, my stomach twisted. This wasn’t her. My eyes snapped open fully as I sat up, my movements startling the woman awake. Her head jerked toward me, sleep still clouding her wide hazel eyes. “What the—?” she started, looking around in confusion. My jaw clenched. I scanned her features again. She looked exactly like the woman I had hired last night, but something was missing. My gaze dropped to her wrist. No tattoo. My blood ran cold. *"Who are you?"* Her breath hitched at my question, but then her expression twisted in anger. "Who am I? Who the hell are you?" I