Chapter 10
Nate
Isabel’s words keep looping in my head like a damn curse I can’t shake.
She’s light, in a world that’s always felt too dark.
Soft, when I’ve only known sharp edges and steel.
Sweet, in a way that makes my chest feel too tight and my fists too damn ready to swing.
Who the fuck would dare lay a hand on her?
The kind of man who doesn’t deserve to keep breathing.
I stare down at the wine glass in my hand, white-knuckled around the stem like I’m ready to crush it. My mind has already drawn ten different ways I'd end the bastard who hurt her.
“Nathan?” Her voice slices through the storm building inside me.
Her hand wraps around mine, steady but gentle, and she takes the glass from me before it shatters. My jaw is clenched so tight it aches.
She shouldn't have had to go through that alone.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, guilt riding my ribs like a vice. I drop the act, burying my face into her stomach as my arms wrap around her waist. Her fingers thread through my hair, slow and calming.
“Nate, it’s okay,” she murmurs, her touch anchoring me. “It’s part of my past. Now it’s your turn.”
I lift my head, still holding her close. “What was the question again?” I ask, pulling her gently into my lap, needing her near.
“I asked why you never got engaged,” she says, her voice light, like she’s trying not to dig too deep.
I draw slow circles over the skin of her thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise. Her breath hitches as it ghosts over my neck. Yeah. She feels it too.
“Well,” I say low, tilting my head so my lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am now… with the most important woman of my life.”
She huffs a soft laugh and presses her palm to my chest. “What a flatterer.”
I kiss her forehead, but her next words wipe the grin from my face.
“I meant before me.”
I lean back, eyes locked on hers. There’s no point in sugarcoating shit now.
“In my world, trust is currency. And it's rare. I grew up in military schools, bouncing between places that felt more like prisons than homes. My parents didn’t care where I ended up, as long as I stayed out of their way.” My voice turns harder, but I keep it steady.
“I was trained to shut off emotions, detach, survive. No space for love. No time for it.”
Her fingers trace a slow heart over my chest. Fuck, she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing to me.
“So… no one’s ever been able to win your heart?” she asks, almost shy.
You did. Twenty-five years ago. And every second since.
But I don’t say that.
I smirk and sip my wine instead. “Not yet.”
“Never say never,” she whispers, eyes on mine, and for a second, the air thickens between us.
I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We’re going back at some point,” I say, my voice rougher than I meant. “I don’t want to.”
Something clenches in my gut. I just got her, and the idea of letting go again? No. Not happening.
“Move in with me.”
Her eyes widen. “Live together?”
“Yes. But not at the manor. I’m buying a house, well…planning to buy one. Ours.” I run my thumb along her jaw. “I want to build something with you.”
Her lips part, and for a moment she looks like she might say yes—then doubt creeps in.
“Living with you…”
I lean in, pressing a kiss below her ear. “We don’t have to share a bed. Not unless you want to.”
She swats at my chest, laughing softly. “That’s not the issue. I feel safe with you, Nate. But…”
“But?” I press, tilting her chin up. “Talk to me, baby.”
“If you plan on dating other women… I don’t want to be in the same house. We haven’t defined anything yet, and I just—don’t want to be confused. Or hurt.”
The moment she says it, something flips inside me.
I lean in, close enough to steal her breath. “Isabel,” I say, my tone firmer now. Dominant. “I don’t need anyone else. And I don’t want anyone else. You’re not just some placeholder in a fake marriage. You're the only woman I see.”
Her eyes drop to her lap.
“I don’t have much to offer you,” she whispers.
I grip her chin and tilt her face toward mine. “You have everything I want. Don’t you get it? You walk into a room, and my whole damn world shifts. You breathe, and I want to kneel. You hurt, and I want to burn the world down.”
She swallows hard, lips parted, her breath shaky. “Nate…”
Just as I’m about to claim her mouth, my phone rings.
Fucking perfect timing.
I reach for it lazily, not really expecting anything important—until I see the number flashing on the screen.
Her dad’s.
I feel my whole body tense. Just the sight of his name makes my jaw tighten like a vice. I hold the phone up for her to see; the silent question already written on my face. Her lips press into a thin line, her eyes dimming like someone just shut the sun off inside her.
If it were up to me? I’d let that call rot in hell.
Smash the damn thing against the wall and pretend it never came.
Two whole fucking days, and he’s just now realizing his daughter is gone?
Or he called to apologize for being so fucking stupid?
Figures, if it’s like my father, those words would never leave his mouth.
But it’s not my call to make. As much as I want to shield her, protect her from him—this is her life. Her pain. Her battle.
“Reality calls,” she mutters, voice low and bitter as she peels herself off the couch, her warmth vanishing from my side.
I hate this.
I hate that look in her eyes.
I hate that just one name on a phone screen can undo hours of peace, of softness. It’s like watching someone flip a switch inside her. Because I know the kind of conversations that number brings. The weight. The manipulation. The shame.
I run a hand down my face and try to breathe.
When she returns, the light in her eyes is dimmed.
“Everything okay?”
She hands me back the cellphone. “He says he has an important event to attend tomorrow night, and I need to be there. He’s sending a jet for us in the morning.”
I curse under my breath, then take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “It’ll be okay. Are you ready to put up with me for a month?”
She leans against the couch and gives me a look that cuts me deep.
“I don’t know if the month with you… or without you will hurt more.”
Fuck. If she only knew—she’s not just in my veins.
She’s the damn blood keeping me alive.