Husband With Benefits-Chapter 881: Marriage

Rafe stared at Arabelle as his team fussed around her, their chatter and activity filling the room. She looked stunning, even with exhaustion lingering on her face. Thankfully, he had already taken care of one crucial detail—applying for a marriage license weeks ago when he’d been toying with the idea of making her his wife. That decision had saved the day during the press conference and helped solidify their story. Of course, it had also clearly angered her.

In his defense, he wasn’t the one who had announced their supposed wedding to the public. That had been an unexpected curveball from Arabelle herself, which, in his mind, made them even. Neither of them had planned for this chaos, but now they were stuck navigating it together.

Unfortunately, his public relations team had swooped in like a pack of overeager vultures right after Arabelle had stepped in and saved the situation. Fools, he thought grimly. They should have acted before things spiraled out of control in the first place. He made a mental note to have a stern talk with them later. For now, his focus was on salvaging what was left of the moment—and on reassuring Arabelle.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, his voice cutting through the commotion. "Excuse me, everyone. All the interviews and photoshoots can wait. She’s just returned from the hospital, and I think she’s had enough for one day."

Though his tone was calm, there was an unmistakable edge of anger in his words. The team froze, suddenly realizing their misstep. After a flurry of murmured congratulations and promises to write glowing articles, they dispersed as quickly as they had appeared, leaving the room blessedly quiet.

As the last of them filed out, Arabelle turned to face him. The polite smile she’d been wearing for the team evaporated, replaced by a look that did not look promising.

"I can’t believe you had a marriage license ready," she said, her voice tight. "From weeks ago. As in... the night we... How could you? Did you plan this all along?"

Rafe shook his head quickly, stepping closer and gently catching her hand before she could jab an accusatory finger at him. He held both her hands in his, his grip firm but careful. "First," he began, his voice low and earnest, "I need to thank you. You saved me out there. I didn’t expect things to get so out of control so quickly. If you hadn’t stepped in when you did, I might already be facing council demands to step down."

He paused, searching her eyes for any sign of softening. "Second," he continued, "about the marriage license. Yes, I did prepare for this possibility. But before you get any more upset, it was only taken as a precaution so if things actually did turn out the way they did, no one could ever claim that we married because you were expecting or had been trapped.

"Third, I need to thank you for saving me again."

Arabelle’s expression remained unreadable as she stared at him, her sharp eyes taking in his sincere expression. Finally, she exhaled a long, tired sigh and sat down on the edge of the couch. "I’m not the one you need to thank," she said, her voice softer now but still firm. "It’s Cai."

Rafe blinked, surprised by her response. He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Cai?" he repeated, leaning forward slightly. "I’m pretty sure Cai didn’t announce his marriage to me in front of a packed press conference."

That earned him a small giggle, and her lips curved into a faint smile. She shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, of course not," she replied. "But after you left, our dear friend paid me a visit."

Her smile faded as she leaned back, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of the couch. "He seemed... concerned," she admitted. "Convinced, actually, that someone had done this on purpose. That it wasn’t just some coincidence and that the flames were being fanned purposely.

He thought someone was trying to harm you—trying to force you to step down. And if you were to step down, his plans for the hospital would be jeopardized. That would be a headache for him, so naturally, he started looking for a way to save the day."

She paused and glanced at him with a wry smile. "And it seems I was the chosen one to help you."

Rafe leaned back, processing her words. "I see," he said quietly. And he truly did.

When he had first approached Cai, it had been for practical reasons. Cai’s background and undeniable talent in neurosurgery had been the initial draw. But over time, Rafe had come to understand there was far more to the man than just skill. The Frosts weren’t just successful—they were strategic, calculating in ways that bordered on devious.

They wielded power like a delicate tool, not just to predict outcomes in volatile political climates but to subtly shape and influence those outcomes to their benefit. It was a skill that few could master, and the Frosts had perfected it.

The most remarkable part, though, was how they managed to avoid accumulating countless enemies despite their reach. They kept their influence carefully controlled, wielding it like a whisper instead of a shout. Their actions were precise, deliberate, and always measured. It was actually inspiring and scary. But it spoke volumes without making a sound.

He sighed and shook his head," It seems I owe Cai more than I thought. But still, you agreed to marry me. So, thank you for that. Do you have any plans on how to proceed with this?"

Arabelle sighed,"I am sorry but we will not be getting married. I... I think we should hold an engagement and then plan for the wedding but cancel it in a couple of months due to ’differences’.

Rafe stilled. Had he misheard. She had not agreed to marry him. But only set up a ruse... He sighed. This was not done. He did not plan to have an engagement charade. "No."