Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 48: Retaliation (2)

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Kendall let out a breath that sounded half-disbelieving. "You just... used her own system against her."

Rafael picked up his glass, the smile gone now, leaving only clarity behind.

"I used the rules she insisted on," he said. "Nothing more."

Anatoli looked at him, shaken. "She won’t forgive this."

Rafael met his gaze steadily.

"I’m not asking her to."

Rafael set the napkin beside his plate and rose without haste.

Chairs scraped softly as Kendall and Anatoli followed his movement with their eyes, neither quite ready to stand, neither certain whether this was an ending or merely an intermission. Rafael took his jacket from the back of the chair and then inclined his head once toward his cousins.

"It was a fun luncheon," he said, tone even, almost wry. "But next time, give me a heads-up before something like this happens."

Kendall let out a weak laugh. "I didn’t think she’d..."

"I know," Rafael replied, already turning away. "That’s why I’m saying it."

He crossed the restaurant with the same measured calm he’d arrived with, though the room felt different now. People watched him go, but with the faint awareness that something had shifted and they’d just witnessed it.

Outside, the midday autumn air was cool and clean.

His driver was already there, standing beside the car with the door open, the engine humming softly. Rafael appreciated that more than he cared to admit.

He slid into the back seat and let the door close behind him, sealing off the noise of the street and the restaurant in one smooth motion. For a heartbeat, he sat in silence, hands resting loosely in his lap, breath steady.

Delphine could cut him off.

The thought came without anxiety, almost with relief.

Her allowances, her discretionary funds, and the quiet safety net she’d always framed as generosity and he’d always recognized as leverage, but none of it mattered. His position as Gabriel’s secretary provided a stable, generous income, one earned cleanly and without conditions aside from his work. Enough to live his life comfortably like before.

Enough that he no longer had to pretend dependence was affection.

Part of him, small, honest, and tired, hoped she’d finish it quickly. Cleanly. Finalize the separation she’d just made inevitable.

Rafael leaned back against the seat.

"Gloria’s," he said after a moment. "The designer shop."

"Yes, sir," the driver replied, already pulling into traffic.

The city lights glided past the window in slow, orderly patterns. Rafael watched them without seeing, his mind calmer than it had been in weeks. The confrontation hadn’t left him shaken. It had clarified something he’d avoided naming for too long.

Being courted by Gregoris Frasner felt almost... honest by comparison.

Rafael closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, his posture settling into something lighter.

’At least Gregoris has the guts to tell me that he finds me entertaining. That he does what he does out of cold interest.’ He huffed. ’Still, he has to pay for that contract too.’

The car slowed smoothly in front of Gloria’s atelier, the façade all glass and brushed metal, discreet enough to suggest one needs taste to enter the wealth. Rafael straightened as the driver stepped out to open his door, the motion automatic. By the time his shoes touched the pavement, the last remnants of the luncheon had already been filed away.

This was something else.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of fabric and citrus polish. The space was bright without being loud, the lines were clean, and the mannequins were positioned like deliberate pauses rather than displays.

Rafael had barely taken three steps when he stopped.

’Oh, no.’

Alexandra stood near one of the long mirrors, half-turned, a garment bag draped over her arm. Beside her, Irina was perched on a low sofa, legs crossed, shoes kicked off, with all the casual familiarity of someone who had been told she was welcome and believed it. They were both mid-conversation.

"Now, look who got here." Alexandra turned to Rafael with the widest grin.

"No. I refuse to talk about the rumors or whatever got to you." Rafael said while raising a hand. "I’m here to make some... adjustments for the last suit I ordered from Gloria."

Alexandra laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and shifted the garment bag higher on her shoulder. "That bad, huh?"

"That loud," Rafael corrected, already moving farther into the atelier as if the activity itself might keep the rest of the day from catching up to him. He stopped near the central worktable, fingers brushing the edge of the polished surface, grounding.

Irina tilted her head, eyes sharp with interest rather than concern. "You say ’adjustments’ the way most people say ’damage control.’"

Rafael glanced at her, one brow lifting a fraction. "Occupational hazard. When you work for Gabriel, words start meaning exactly what they say."

Gloria appeared from the back almost on cue, sleeves rolled up, measuring tape already looped around her neck. Her gaze flicked from Alexandra to Irina, then settled on Rafael with unmistakable appraisal.

"Well," she said, lips curving. "If it isn’t my favorite walking crisis."

Rafael huffed softly. "I need to change the design for the gala."

Alexandra’s smile faded just enough to signal attention. "Change how?"

"Structurally," Rafael said. "Do you remember what I said about not showing skin? I’ve changed my mind; I want something scandalous... Maybe a coat without a shirt? With a white gold chain maybe?"

Alexandra blinked.

Irina choked on a laugh so sudden it came out as a sharp cough. "I’m sorry... what?"

Gloria, to her credit, didn’t flinch. She just lifted a brow, interest sharpening immediately. "That’s... a decisive pivot."

Rafael rested his palms lightly on the worktable and looked up, expression composed, voice level. "I’m not interested in subtlety anymore."

Alexandra recovered first, folding the garment bag over one arm and studying him with a mixture of disbelief and calculation. "You realize," she said slowly, "that what you’re describing would cause a diplomatic incident."

"Yes," Rafael replied. "That’s the point."

Irina leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes bright now. "You want to make it impossible for anyone to pretend you’re still operating under maternal supervision."

"I want to make it impossible," Rafael corrected, "for anyone to pretend they have the right to speak over me."

Gloria circled him once, gaze clinical, already stripping the idea down to its bones. "A coat without a shirt isn’t scandalous by itself," she said thoughtfully. "It depends on the cut." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Good," Rafael said. "I’m looking for something scandalous."

Alexandra exhaled slowly. "Delphine will lose her mind."

"Yes," Rafael said again, calmly. "Also the point, but not only her. Gregoris Fresner has to pay too."

Alexandra stared at him for a beat longer, then let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. "You’re going to start a war with tailoring."

"I’m going to end one," Rafael replied evenly.