Page 72 of A Million Shades Of Love and Betrayal

When we reached the altar, my father placed my hand in Rafael's, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Take good care of her," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I will," Rafael promised. His grip on my hand was firm and reassuring.

The officiant began the ceremony, his words a gentle murmur in the background as I lost myself in Rafael's gaze. We exchanged vows, each word a promise of love, support, and commitment. I could see the sincerity in Rafael's eyes as he spoke, and I knew without a doubt that we were meant to spend our lives together.

"Do you, Yasmin, take Rafael to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the officiant asked, his voice clear and steady.

"I do," I replied, my voice unwavering.

"And do you, Rafael, take Yasmin to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Rafael answered, his eyes never leaving mine.

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Rafael leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a tender, loving kiss. The applause of our guests rang out, but all I could focus on was the overwhelming joy and love I felt at that moment. When we finally pulled away, he whispered. "I love you, Yasmin."

"I love you too," I replied, my heart soaring.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of smiles, congratulations, and laughter. We signed the marriage license, making it official and legal. I was now Yasmin Rashid-Amato, Rafael's wife. The thought filled me with a sense of pride and happiness.

As we walked back down the aisle together, hand in hand, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For the love we shared, for the support of our families, and for the bright future that lay ahead. The day had been perfect, and I couldn't wait to start this new chapter of our lives together.

Now all I had to do was come clean about the letter Ethan gave me and hope it wasn't anything that would seal his fate.

-48-

Rafael

“Ready?” I whispered, my hand gently guiding her waist.

“Always,” she replied with a smile that could melt glaciers.

The music swirled around us, the soft hum of violins and the gentle strumming of guitars weaving a delicate spell over the room. Yasmin’s hand felt warm in mine, her eyes shimmering with happiness. Our first dance as husband and wife felt like a moment suspended in time, a fragment of magic that belonged only to us.

“You look beautiful,” I whispered, leaning closer to her ear. Her smile broadened, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“And you look handsome,” she replied, her voice as soft as the music around us.

“I can't believe how perfect everything turned out in such a short time,” she murmured.

“That's because you're very good at planning,” I said, my voice barely audible over the music.

She grinned, looking around. "Maybe you're right."

I was lost in her eyes, the world around us fading into a blur of colors and sounds. Every step we took, every twirl and sway, felt like a dance of promises and dreams. But then I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Yasmin’s father standing there, a broad smile on his face.

“May I cut in?” he asked, his tone polite but firm.

“Of course,” I said, stepping back and offering him my spot.

Yasmin’s eyes met mine, a silent apology reflected in them. I nodded reassuringly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. As they started to dance, I stepped back, watching them with admiration. It was a touching sight, father and daughter sharing a moment that was undoubtedly significant for both.

I made my way towards the edge of the dance floor, intending to grab a drink. But before I could, I felt a firm grip on my arm. Turning around, I found Khalid and Roman standing there, their expressions serious.

“Rafael, we need to talk,” Khalid said, his voice low.

“What’s going on?” I asked, a sense of unease creeping in.

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