My destiny with CEO

tched Obadiah walk away from her. "No, please don't," she said, following him. Obadiah kept walking, his feet kicking up dust as they skimmed the dirt. "Hurry up, woman. I can only distract them for

It was so soft that Raphael wondered if he had imagined it. He looked out at the approaching crowd. The soldiers had stopped a few feet away from Obadiah and were laughing. The lead soldier stood motionless, his face half hidden beneath a bronze helmet and a thick black beard. Draped across her shoulders was a red toga held together by a gold brooch at the neck. The toga swayed in the breeze, flapping softly against her muscular thighs. As the leader drew his sword from its scabbard, a small figure stepped through the horde of soldiers. For a moment, Raphael thought it was a boy. Perhaps the son of one of the sick who lived in the tent community. Then he saw the pale blue cloak dragging along the ground, sending up a cloud of dust as the figure moved. "Stop. I beg you. Please stop," the woman cried. Her small hand gripped the leader's large bicep. It felt so delicate against his rigid arm. "Get out of my way, woman," the soldier growled, pushing her away from him. The woman took a few steps forward and fell at Obadiah's feet. Dark hair covered her face like a silken veil. From a distance, Raphael could hear her sobbing. The sound filled him with an eerie feeling. It was as if there was a rope tied to his chest that was pulling him towards her, and he dug his heels into the ground, frightened by the strength of this unfamiliar feeling. He wanted to go to her, to comfort the brave woman who dared to face an army of soldiers alone. He watched as Obadiah reached out to her. Seconds passed, and Raphael wondered what she was doing as she continued to stare at the ground. After a moment, the woman straightened her shoulders and took Obadiah's hand. And then, Raphael saw her face. Tears stained her rosy cheeks; her flawless skin was caked with dirt; and yet, she was the most beautiful being, human or angel, he had ever laid eyes on. He was mesmerized by her every move: the way she brushed her hair from her face to drape it over her delicate shoulders; the way her pink lips moved as she spoke her thanks to Obadiah; the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled at him and then turned to worry as she looked toward the tents. Turning to face the group of soldiers, the woman schooled her expression, brown eyes gleaming w