Chapter 96: The Mirabel File
Rafael Vexley let out a laugh—a genuine, disbelieving burst that filled the car. It was a sound James hadn’t heard in years, raw and emotional, laced with the pent-up rage of a man who’d suffered in silence too long. "I can’t believe it. Three years, James. Three goddamn years of waiting, of digging through shadows. And now... this? It’s like Christmas came early, if Christmas involved taking down a viper."
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his mind flooding with memories. "Oh James, I can’t believe this. Ever since that witch Mirabel slithered into my family home, pretending to be the perfect stepmother, she’s made my life a living hell. The constant near death experiences, the manipulations—’Oh, Rafael, you’re so fragile,’ she’d say with that fake smile in front of my father, all while plotting behind my back."
James kept his hands steady on the wheel, his gaze locked on the road ahead, but there was weight in his voice when he finally spoke. "I felt your pain, sir. I watched the way she worked—how she cut you off piece by piece. She isolated you, turned your own father against you, like some slow poison. And you... forgive me for saying it, but you were young then. Young and afraid. Even with your grandfather’s love and guidance, it wasn’t enough to shield you. She had this presence about her—an aura, sharp and suffocating. Terrifying, really. I admired the way you kept breathing through it, and that’s why I swore I’d protect you however I could, even if it was only in the smallest ways."
Rafael’s jaw tightened. His eyes, once so cold, flickered with shadows that memory dragged up. His voice cracked low, almost a confession more than a reply. "Scared?" He gave a humorless laugh. "I was terrified, James. Like an animal with its back to the wall. She’d whisper threats in the dark, just loud enough for me to know she meant them. She made sure I believed I was nothing without the family name. And I let it happen. God, I was such a coward—hiding behind money, pretending none of it got to me, when inside it was eating me alive." He glanced at James then, the edge of his voice softening. "You were the only one who came to me of your own free will. Thank you—for standing by me when I couldn’t even stand for myself."
James’s lips curved into a faint, loyal smile, his tone steady as stone. "It’s not a burden, sir. It’s an honor."
Rafael paused, his grey eyes glistening with unshed tears—a vulnerability he rarely showed. "Do you know when I had reached my final straw? It was the car crash incident. That caregiver she paid off. Left me stranded on that godforsaken road, fumbling in the dark because I was still playing weak and blind back then. I stepped out, calling for help, and bam—that car hit me. Nearly ended everything."
James’s jaw clenched at the memory. "I know, sir. If not for that nice man—the one who pulled you from the wreckage, got you that secret surgery and became a wonderful friend—you might not be here."
Rafael nodded, a spark of determination igniting in his gaze. "Exactly. He saved me, James. Told me it was time to fight back, not cower. ’Hit her with everything you’ve got,’ he said. So we did. You, me, and him—we hired Sam, the best PI money could buy. Told him to tear apart her life: from her cradle days to now. Every murder she’s covered up, every toe she’s crushed, every tie to the people she pretends to care about. I wanted dirt—evidence for a life sentence, or hell, the death penalty if it stuck."
"And Sam delivered," James replied, his voice steady but infused with triumph. "Mirabel’s clever—buried her poor past, never left a trail when she eliminated rivals. Used your father’s fortune to grease palms, erase mistakes. But three years? Patience paid off. Concrete proof, sir. It’s all here."
Rafael’s heart raced, a mix of elation and vindication surging through him. "Show me. Pull over if you have to, but read it out. I need to hear this."
James glanced around, ensuring they were secure on the empty stretch of highway, then he pulled over by the side of the road. After that he reached for the tablet secured in the glove compartment. He unlocked it with a biometric scan, opening the encrypted email. The screen glowed softly in the dim interior, illuminating his face as he scrolled.
"Alright, sir. Starting from the top. The report’s structured chronologically. First section: Early Life."
He cleared his throat, reading aloud in a measured tone. "’Mirabel, née Thompson, born in a rundown tenement in Chicago’s South Side. Parents: Elijah Thompson, a factory worker who died of lung disease at 45; mother, Naomi Thompson, a seamstress who passed from complications of diabetes ten years later. Siblings: Older brother Victor Thompson, known for petty crimes and mob ties..."
Rafael scoffed at the mention of Victor, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Victor. That big-mouthed fool. Always flapping his gums about family loyalty while stabbing everyone in the back."
James looked up, curious. "Sir?"
Rafael smirked, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned back. "Oh, nothing. Just remembering how we handled him. I’m glad you were able to transport that loudmouth to that little hideaway. Who knew finding some remote spot in Eastern Europe to hide a rat could be so satisfying. Mirabel’s been searching high and low, but she won’t find him until I say so. Call it a preview of what’s coming for her."
James’s smiled slightly, but he nodded approvingly. "Poetic justice, sir. Shall I continue?"
"Yes," Rafael urged, his voice eager now, the emotional weight lifting as revenge felt within reach. "Keep going. What’s next?"
James scrolled down, his finger hovering over the screen then he continued from where he stopped.
"Mirabel had a younger brother David Thompson, who vanished under suspicious circumstances in his twenties—suspected foul play, possibly at Mirabel’s hand to eliminate inheritance competition.’ And lastly Lydia Thompson, know to be Mirabel’s favorite sibling and has an identical character to Mirabel."
"Interesting. Go on." Rafael said with a smirk.
"Next heading: Married Life." James called out the next heading. After that, he continued reading, but suddenly, he froze, his breath hitching. His eyes darted across the lines, widening in shock. He gasped audibly, the tablet nearly slipping from his grasp as he looked up at Rafael, his face drained of color.
Rafael’s brow furrowed, concern etching his handsome features. "James? What is it? What’s written there about her marriage? Spit it out—don’t leave me hanging like this!"