With a furrowed brow, he snapped, “What’s up?”
The woman was perched on the couch, her phone in hand. “Your phone’s dead?”
Rising from his bed, Nathan looked around, prompted by her question. She pointed at the coffee table, then picked
up a black phone, standing to hand it over to him.
As Nathan took the phone and opened it, she pursed her lips and said, “I thought it was dead. You didn’t get a single
call or text all night.”
Without a word, Nathan glanced at the phone and tossed it aside, the screen going dark. The woman asked, “So
really no calls or messages last night?”
Nathan stood up, intending to find the bathroom. Upon hearing her words, he seemed particularly impatient. “What
are you trying to say?”d2
There was a moment of silence before she spoke, “The stuff from the bar last night went viral. I thought your wife
would’ve called to check in.”
Nathan froze, his hungover eyes darkening as he turned to her, his look menacing.
She recoiled two steps, her face stricken with fear. “Sorry.”
Nathan looked away, a sarcastic laugh escaping him after a moment’s thought. He stormed into the bathroom, and
the door slammed with a resounding thud.
He emerged from a quick shower, dressed in a bathrobe, and ignored the bewildered woman on the sofa. He
grabbed his phone and ordered clothes to be delivered.
While waiting for his clothes, Nathan ordered breakfast. He didn’t neglect the woman. They ate together.
She didn’t eat much, while Nathan ate like a man with a hearty appetite. She’d seen many people, men and
women, treat meals like a mere formality, barely nibbling, as if that was enough to last the day. Now, she had seen
what a real man’s appetite looked like.
But even this was nothing compared to Nathan’s usual intake. After a night of drinking on an empty stomach, he
was uncomfortable and headachy. Eating much was out of the question.
They ate in silence. When the clothes arrived, he tossed an outfit to the woman, gesturing for her to change in the
bathroom. She complied, puzzled, and when she returned, Nathan was transformed. Dressed in a crisp suit, his hair
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtcasually styled, he exuded an aristocratic charm, a rakish allure.
“Let’s go,” he said emotionlessly, opening the door.
Her heart racing, she followed him out, pausing to murmur, “We really don’t have to do this.”
He walked on without listening.
The bar was quiet in the morning compared to the previous night’s revelry. The patrons were lethargic, silently
preparing to leave, their spirits downcast.
But as they saw Nathan and the woman leave together, their expressions were oddly knowing.
Nathan sensed something amiss. “What were you about to say?” he asked her, eyes fixed forward.
Startled, she whispered back, “You made headlines at the bar last night. If it was all an act, you succeeded. But I’m
not sure if this morning turned out how you wanted.”
Outside the bar, they breathed in the fresh air. “What didn’t turn out as I wanted?” he pressed.
She hesitated to reply, so he turned to her, only to have her phone thrust in his face.
The headlines blared: “Harper family’s second daughter-in-law leaves with ex, both head to work.”
“Nathan and his wife, living separate lives.”
“Old flame rekindled, Nathan’s wife indifferent to scandal.”
Nathan’s face turned ashen.
No wonder the woman pitied him.
No wonder she emphasized his silent phone.
No wonder those bar patrons looked at him so meaningfully.
Had Yulia truly left without a word, off to work sweetly with her ex, ignoring the scandal?
Yulia, well played.
His assistant pulled up in the car, and Nathan strode in, leaving the woman behind. Embarrassed but relieved, she
watched him go.
Nathan’s first impulse had been to storm into Yulia’s office, but he soon reined himself in. Why should he care? Why
should he be the one led by the nose?
He rerouted to his office.
The news buzzed online. Yulia and Ronald’s lunch further fanned the flames. The Harper Group building was tense,
the atmosphere thick with unease. Everyone was on edge, and Nathan’s office was silent all day. Despite his work,
no personal calls came through.
As night fell, Ronald’s dinner plans with Yulia were rejected. “Anya’s waiting for me at home. I’ll skip dinner,” said
Yulia, her voice casual but with an undercurrent of fatigue.
Ronald didn’t press the matter. “Bring Anya with you this weekend,” he suggested.
Yulia glanced at him as she unbuckled her seat belt. “We’ll see,” she replied noncommittally.
“Yulia, I’m really fond of Anya.”
“Yeah.”
With that, Yulia turned to open the car door, but as she did, her movement halted abruptly.
The streetlamp outside the apartment complex cast a bright light, and moths fluttered in its halo on the edge of
visibility. The parking lot, however, remained dim.
A tall figure leaned against the front of a car, arms crossed, seemingly watching their direction. Yulia felt a tightness
in her chest as she squinted to get a better look, but before she could process the sight, Ronald’s hand hooked her
shoulder, pulling her back with an unexpected kiss on her forehead. Yulia’s body stiffened, her eyes blinked in
surprise, and before she could react, she suddenly tumbled out of the car.
Ronald reached out to catch her, but he was a step too late. Yulia’s knee scraped the ground as she was yanked out
of the car, her posture awkward and forced.
Seeing this, Ronald immediately opened his door and got out of the car.
As he rounded the vehicle, Nathan’s features became clear. His rugged good looks and tall, imposing stature
exuded a wild, untamed air, laced with an innate aristocracy. His masculine presence was undeniable.
Compared to his earlier silence, Nathan now resembled a lion that had been stepped on—a raw embodiment of
territorial infringement.
Ronald paused for only a moment before stepping forward, his voice steady. “Let her go.”
The man’s fist, driven by fury, landed on Ronald’s face.
Ronald staggered, his arm bracing against the car’s hood.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmNathan was well-protected by Damon when he was younger, but after all, being a boy, he also developed an
interest in some martial arts. Despite Damon being strict, he still learned a few things from him.
Blood trickled from the corner of Ronald’s mouth.
Yulia, still reeling from being abruptly pulled from the car, was stunned by the sudden violence.
Nathan advanced on Ronald, gripping his shirt, his expression and tone equally fierce. “Who gave you the right to
touch her?”
Ronald sneered, “Nathan, had enough fun with other women and now you’re looking for some attention?”
The words were a slap to Nathan’s face—a reminder of the previous night’s escapades at the bar, a self-inflicted
blow.
But the truth wasn’t like that. He hadn’t planned to lose control like this. He just knew Yulia hadn’t come home that
night and found himself irrationally waiting for her here. There was no reason to be this impulsive, yet seeing
Ronald driving her home ignited a towering inferno within him.
And then Ronald kissed her. The fury found its vent, erupting with force.
How did he feel? Still angry, with no relief in sight.
His suit jacket’s buttons had come undone in the scuffle. Every muscle in his body tensed with the impact of his
punch. His clenched fists and the muscles straining against his shirt seemed ready to burst. Every inch of him was
uncomfortable, but his heart clenched painfully.
The image of Yulia being kissed flashed through his mind, puncturing his heart. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to
see her this morning, and he shouldn’t have let her draw out his emotions.
Yet he had lost control. It was all so unclear.
“You have no shame, do you? She is my wife now.”
“And what is a wife to you? A doll in the house for you to mold as you please?”
“This is our damn business. What’s it to you?!”
Ronald’s cold laughter cut through the tension. “I love her, does that count?”
Nathan’s forehead veins bulged, his grip on Ronald’s shirt creaking with tension. That was when Yulia finally came to
her senses, reaching for Nathan’s clenched hand on Ronald’s shirt. “Nathan, what are you doing?! Let him go.”
Nathan looked at her hand trying to pry his away, his gaze shifting to the corner of his eyes, “Let go.”