Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Natalie
"I'll handle what's online. You don't need to worry about it."
The words rolled off Richard's tongue like it was nothing—because for him, it really was that easy. But on my phone screen, those vicious comments still burned into my vision.
"People actually said Nightingale was the next big thing? Turns out she just spread her legs for resources."
"Jesus, I knew something was off about a woman who wouldn't even show her face suddenly blowing up. Of course there's a sugar daddy behind it all."
"Whose kid is she even carrying? Her personal life is a complete mess."
I locked my phone.
"Really? Well, thanks so much." The words had barely left my mouth when I saw Richard step closer. "Richard, I need to be alone right now."
Richard went quiet for two seconds, then turned and walked out without a word.
I unlocked my phone again. In just those few minutes, all the trending topics and comment threads had vanished.
But did that mean it never happened? I couldn't pretend those words didn't exist. They'd exposed a truth I'd been avoiding—as long as I stayed with Richard, everyone would see me as nothing more than an accessory.
Someone who needed him to survive, who relied on his money and his power just to exist.
A wave of humiliation and rage exploded in my chest, making my eyes burn.
I couldn't stay here anymore. The longer I stayed, the tighter he'd bind me, until I lost myself completely. Once the baby was born, he'd control our child the same way he controlled me. With his rules, his arrogance, his coldness—he'd turn my baby into another frozen Winston heir.
I wouldn't allow it.
I couldn't let my child grow up with Richard's tyrannical personality. That would be terrifying.
The moment that thought formed, I'd already opened a flight booking app.
London. There was an independent label there that had shown interest in me.
Small operation, but well-respected in European music circles.
Most importantly, it was far enough away, beyond Richard's reach.
The next direct flight leaves tomorrow night at eleven.
I barely hesitated before hitting purchase.
Then I pulled up the lawyer's contact information.
Andrew had given me her name after our dinner.
I laid out my situation—pregnant, divorce finalized, and who the father was.
She went quiet for two seconds, then said, "Miss Green, I need to tell you—legally, there's nothing stopping you from leaving the country while pregnant.
You have complete freedom of movement. But if he pursues custody later, the timing of your departure could be used against you.
I'd advise you to take certain steps before you leave. .."
I recorded every word she said, typed it all into my notes, and saved it line by line.
Then I shut off my phone, lay flat on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow night at eleven, I'd disappear from this suffocating place and start over somewhere Richard couldn't touch me.
The thought let me sleep surprisingly well.
But the next afternoon, everything went sideways.
I was crouched in the walk-in closet, stuffing the last of my loose maternity clothes into an old duffel bag, when Richard's voice came from behind me.
"Natalie, you need to explain what this is."
Richard stood in the closet doorway, his frame nearly filling the entire space.
He wasn't wearing a suit jacket—just a simple dark gray t-shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing the defined lines of his forearms. But the casual outfit did nothing to diminish the oppressive presence he carried.
In his hand, he held a piece of paper—damn it.
My flight confirmation for the one-way ticket from Las Vegas to London.
How the hell did Richard get his hands on that? I'd hidden it.
"I..." I licked my suddenly dry lips. "I'm just considering an overseas work opportunity. Emma said there's a music festival in the UK looking for independent artists, the pay's good, and..."
"And what?" Richard stepped into the closet. The space that had seemed reasonably large suddenly felt cramped with him in it. "And it just happens to get you far away from me, where you can disappear with the baby? Is that it?"
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand up straight. Pregnancy had wrecked my balance. I had to grip the closet door for support. "Richard, we need to talk."
"About what?" He looked up, those gray-blue eyes like frozen lakes.
"About how you've been sleeping next to me while secretly planning your escape?
Or should we discuss that lawyer you consulted—Sarah Miller, the one who specializes in international custody disputes?
Her fees aren't cheap. Looks like you made good money singing these past few months. "
God, how did he know everything?
"You've been spying on me." The words came out through clenched teeth, shaking more than I'd expected.
Richard laughed once, sharp and short. "Do I need to spy on you, Natalie?
When you're plotting something, you leave holes everywhere.
" He moved closer. We were inches apart now, his cologne surrounding me instantly.
"Natalie, I told you—you and the baby stay with me. Why can't you ever just listen?"
"Because I'm done with you!" I finally snapped, my voice breaking.
"I'm done with you arranging everything, controlling everything, refusing to let anything deviate from your plan!
God, because of you, people online are calling me a whore who slept her way to the top!
Sure, you deleted the posts and sued everyone, but so what?
In everyone's eyes, I'm still nothing without you! "
My voice bounced off the walls, cracking and raw. Tears rushed up, but I bit down hard, refusing to let them fall. Damn it, Natalie, don't cry now. Don't look weak in front of him.
Richard stared at me. "So you think my presence causes you problems? That's what you think of me?"
"What else?" I tried for a mocking smile but failed. "Richard, you never even asked why I want to leave. You just decided I'm staying, then used your methods to make sure I stay. Just like you decide what I wear, where I go, who I see."
"I understand." Richard ripped the ticket to shreds right in front of me. "Natalie, you need to understand something too."
He raised his hand. I thought he was going to touch me and instinctively flinched back.
But he only used his fingers to brush away a damp strand of hair from my cheek.
He looked at me, the last trace of warmth draining from those gray-blue eyes.
"As long as I want you to stay, nothing you do will matter. "
Then he walked out of the closet without looking back.
Richard just left, leaving me standing among shredded paper and half-packed bags, feeling like he'd sucked all the oxygen from the world.
That night, I didn't sleep at all. Every time I closed my eyes, grotesque nightmares invaded—Richard storming into my London apartment with a group of people, expressionlessly tearing my crying baby from my arms. Or my father weeping, begging me to come home, saying Green Group was finished and it was all my fault.
At four a.m., I couldn't lie down anymore.
I walked barefoot to the living room. Outside, Las Vegas's eternal neon stained the sky purple-red.
I went to pour myself water when a dull, pulling ache seized my lower abdomen.
I immediately clutched my stomach, leaning against the table until the discomfort slowly passed.
Baby, what do you think I should do?
The next morning, I'd just started to drift off when my phone exploded with vibrations.
The second I answered, Emma's frantic voice hit like artillery fire.
"Natalie! My God! Mr. Winston bought Harbor Records!
He's our biggest boss now! I just got the notification—every deal we had in the works—the UK festival, the New York studio invitation—all canceled!
Natalie, is Mr. Winston trying to blacklist you? "
I gripped the phone, fingertips frozen, my brain completely unable to process what she was saying.
"What happened between you two? Natalie, when these rich people want something, they get it.
Anything in their way gets crushed without mercy.
Right now, Mr. Winston is the steamroller, and we, especially you, are the poor little road!
You understand? You need to go apologize to Mr. Winston, grovel if you have to.
Whatever he wants, give it to him! Otherwise my career, your dreams, and that little one in your belly—all of it's finished! "
Just then, the apartment door opened.
I instinctively hung up and turned around stiffly.
Richard walked in. He held a thin folder, expression calm, almost indifferent. His gaze swept over my pale face and the phone in my hand.
"Looks like you got the news." He walked to the table and set the folder down.
"Natalie, sign this and come back to Los Angeles with me.
" His voice carried no inflection. "As Mrs. Winston, you'll receive the best care.
After the baby's born, he'll have everything he deserves.
Your singing career," he deliberately emphasized those words, "can continue.
Within reasonable, controlled parameters, I'll make arrangements. "
"And if I don't sign?"
"Then I can't guarantee the people close to you will continue living and working normally." Richard's tone grew even softer, but every word froze my blood. "Natalie, making them lose everything would be as easy for me as eating or drinking."
God, was Richard threatening me with Andrew and Emma? I lunged forward, my voice sharp with shock and fury. "You have no right to do anything to my friends! They have nothing to do with what's between us!"
Richard looked at me like I was an unreasonable child.
"Natalie, I gave you two months to play your independence game.
I even tolerated your constant refusals, lies, and escape attempts.
But I'm out of patience now." He stepped forward, his towering shadow bearing down with suffocating pressure.
"You have two choices. Come back to the life I've arranged for you, or watch everyone who tries to help you, everyone close to you, pay the price for their association with you. Choose."
I glared at him, shaking all over—half from rage, half from fear. I couldn't believe there was someone this cold, this ruthless, this pathologically controlling in the world.
"Richard," I ground out each word, "you are a complete and total bastard. Despicable, shameless, vile! You think threatening my friends' careers and safety will make me submit? Make me go back to being your obedient little wife?! Dream on!"
Richard looked at me, not a trace of anger on his face. He even pulled his lips into a slight smile. "Good. Looks like you chose the second path." He stopped looking at me and turned toward the door. "Remember, Natalie, whatever consequences your choices bring, you'll have to bear them."
He opened the door and walked out.
I stood there, drained of all strength, slowly sliding down onto the cold floor. I hugged my knees and buried my face.
I don't know how long I sat there. Until my phone went crazy again, Andrew's name flashing across the screen.
A powerful sense of dread instantly gripped my heart. My hand shook as I grabbed the phone and answered.
"Natalie?" Andrew's voice was strained with pain and gasping, background noise chaotic with distant sirens. "I'm... in the alley behind Havana Bar. Something happened... could you... come? I... can't really move..."
"God, what happened? What's wrong?" I shot up from the floor, heart pounding like it would explode. "I'm coming right now!"
I hung up and bolted out the door without even changing, just grabbed my keys and phone.
When I reached the alley behind Havana Bar, police lights spun blindingly. A few people clustered around while cops asked questions. Then I saw Andrew.
He was slumped against some steps, curls matted with dried blood at his temple, multiple bruises on his face, split lip, pressing an ice pack to his ribs.
"Andrew!" I screamed and rushed over, dropping to my knees in front of him, wanting to touch him but too afraid. "My God... what happened? Who did this to you?"
Andrew opened his swollen eyes. When he saw me, he tried to force a smile but winced as it pulled at his injuries. "Hey... don't look like that, it's not that bad... just some drunk assholes who didn't like my face..." He tried to joke. "Maybe my new song was so bad it pissed them off..."
Just then, a tall figure pushed through the crowd of onlookers. Richard stopped beside me, looking down at the battered Andrew, then at me kneeling on the ground, face streaked with tears.
"Looks like your friend ran into some trouble, Natalie." He said flatly. "Need me to call an ambulance? Or contact the best surgeon? I know a few good ones."
I snapped my head up, bloodshot eyes boring into him as all my fear, helplessness, and rage crashed through my last shred of rationality.
"It was you!" I screamed, standing up so violently I stumbled. Richard instinctively reached out to steady me but I slapped his hand away. "You did this! Richard! You cold-blooded monster! You actually had someone beat him up?!"
My voice rang shrilly through the empty alley, edged with hysterical sobbing. Everyone turned to look, even the police stopped their questioning.
Richard looked at me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, those gray-blue eyes darkening. "Watch your words, Natalie. Accusations without evidence are called slander."
"Evidence? What evidence do I need?!" I pointed at Andrew's battered form, screaming with everything I had, chest heaving violently.
"You just said you'd make him pay, and now this!
Richard, he's just my friend! How could you do this!
" My lower abdomen cramped with sharp pains.
But I couldn't care about that now. Fury and despair burned through every last bit of rational thought.
Richard stood there, jawline rigid, a vein pulsing faintly in his neck. Then slowly, he took one step forward.
That step brought us close enough to feel each other's breath.
He lowered his head, lips brushing my ear, voice low enough for only us to hear.
"Listen carefully, Natalie. If I wanted someone to disappear, or to learn a lesson they'd never forget, they wouldn't be sitting in an alley holding an ice pack waiting for an ambulance. "
He paused, warm breath against my ear sending bone-deep chills through me.
"They'd actually disappear."