Chapter 30
Nate
Home.
Two days after my discharge, we returned to London.
I’ve never felt this happy to be home. The flight back from Germany is quiet, warm—Sebastian flew over to pick us up himself.
He told Isabel he couldn’t trust anyone else to bring us back safely.
I owe him more than I can say. He told me how wrecked she was when she called him.
But it’s only when the wheels touch down and we step onto familiar ground that I truly understand what it means to come back to life.
The moment we open the front door, an explosion of noise greets us.
My entire team, my colleagues, even Derek are waiting, cheering as we step inside. Streamers hang from the walls, balloons float midair, and the scent of homemade food turns my stomach with warmth and longing. My stomach growls. I glance at Isabel, startled.
She gives me a smug little smile. “You think Cindy and I wouldn’t plan something?”
I shake my head and kiss her forehead. “You two are dangerous together.”
Something inside me settles. For the first time in months, I feel grounded. Safe.
As I move through the crowd, catching up with familiar faces, laughter ringing in my ears, I catch Isabel on the other side of the room.
She’s with Cindy and Alice, trying—and failing—to be subtle as they fumble with a package.
The moment they notice me watching, they squeal like guilty teenagers and bolt toward Izzy’s office.
Yeah. That’s not suspicious at all.
Hours pass in a blur of laughter, warmth, and too many hugs to count. When the last guests filter out and the house finally begins to quiet, the ache in my back and legs returns. It hurts—but I don’t care.
I have my wife. My people. My life.
Tomorrow—or maybe the day after—I’ll whisk Isabel away somewhere warm and quiet for a proper honeymoon. No more hospitals. No more secrets. Just us.
I’m about to collapse onto the couch when Dad pulls me toward the patio.
“How do you feel, Nathan?” he asks, handing me a cold beer.
I narrow my eyes, cautious. “A little tired, but I’m not complaining. I’m home, and that’s what counts.”
We clink bottles. He takes a long sip before speaking again.
“You made us worry.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to.” My voice drops. I’m not used to seeing him like this—unguarded. Almost soft.
“She opened my eyes, you know.”
I blink. “Who?” But he’s already tilting his head toward the house. “Izzy? About what?”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “She sat me down and told me every way I’d failed you. Diplomatic, sure, but she didn’t pull any punches. Said I pushed you too hard. Tried to make you into me. And she’s right.”
His words hit like a thunderclap. For a second, I just stare at him.
“I’ve never heard you say sorry to anyone before,” I say slowly.
“That’s because I rarely admit when I’m wrong. But this time, I was. I wanted you to be strong—not broken. Thought I was preparing you for life… turns out I was just pushing you away.” He pauses, then adds, “But you’re not me. You’re better.”
My throat tightens. “Thanks, Dad.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder, solid and warm, and we head back inside.
Isabel’s already watching from across the room, her gaze warm, knowing. I mouth, thank you, and she smiles like she already knows what just happened.
She motions for me to come to her—and I do, without hesitation.
Everyone gathers in front of us like they’re expecting a damn speech or something. Shit. My throat tightens. I don’t have anything prepared—this was supposed to be a casual celebration, not a public declaration.
Derek and Sebastian are already grinning like a pair of smug Cheshire cats, and Sebastian raises a bottle in my direction, that knowing glint in his eyes saying, You got this, man.
My fingers twitch at my sides. I glance at Isabel—my anchor, my calm in every storm—and suddenly I find the words.
“Isabel would be the best for a speech,” I start, my voice rough with affection and nerves. That earns a round of laughter, just enough to ease the tension strangling my chest. “But I want to thank each one of you for being here tonight. It means more than I can put into words.”
“Wouldn’t miss your face,” Sebastian calls out with a wink, and the tension cracks completely, replaced by warmth.
I laugh, heart pounding. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my beautiful wife,” I say, eyes locked on Izzy. Her hand tightens in mine. “I owe her my life.”
“Amen to that,” CJ says, lifting his bottle, and others follow. A quiet cheer ripples through the group.
The moment stretches, and something shifts inside me—something I didn’t expect to feel so deeply. Peace. A sense of finality. A chapter closing.
“After all these years…” My voice wavers just a bit, but I steady it. “I want to announce that this—everything leading to this night—has been my latest mission. And now… I’m ready to retire from active service.”
Gasps mix with soft murmurs, and I don’t let myself hesitate. I pull Izzy close, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Her scent—warm, familiar, home—wraps around me like a promise.
I lift my gaze to my father. His eyes lock on mine. There’s no anger in them. No shadow of disappointment. Just… pride. Real, unmistakable pride.
My mom nods, slow and sure, her eyes glassy with emotion. For the first time in my life, I feel it fully—accepted. Not for who I was expected to be, but for the man I chose to become.
And damn, that’s everything.
Izzy pushes a small gift box with my name on it.
Curious, I opened it. A green tissue paper peeked out.
Then yellow.
Pink.
Red.
Purple.
Orange.
Blue.
“You’ve cut down a forest,” I said, amused.
Everyone laughed. I peeled back layer after layer of tissue paper, then finally, at the bottom, was a white onesie. My breath caught.
Dad’s little love.
Tears burn my eyes.
I turn to her. “I thought you said you weren’t pregnant.”
She shrugs, her eyes are already glistening with tears.
“For real?” My voice cracks. “Are we really pregnant?”
“Yes, we are,” she whispers.
I broke.
Hiding my face in her neck, I let the tears fall. She holds me, shielding me from the world. When I can finally breathe again, I turn her gently, hugging her from behind, both hands flat on her stomach.
My baby is in there.
Our baby.
I looked up to see our families, our friends watching, moved and smiling. And in that moment, I swear I would never let anything come between us again.
But I needed to clear the air—everything.
I leave Izzy with Alice and Mom, her laughter soft in the background as I walk away—but my heart isn’t at peace yet. Not until I bury one last demon.
My eyes lock on Morris across the yard. He knows. I can see it in the way he straightens up when he notices my approach.
One final piece of that damn picture story still lingers like poison in my bloodstream. I need it out—now.
I don’t even hear Sebastian come up beside me, but his voice is dry and amused. “You seem ready for war.”
“Kind of.” I flash a grin, but it’s forced. Tense. There's a pressure in my chest I can’t shake.
“Hey, where are you two heading?” Derek asks.
“I’m not sure.” Sebastian shrugs, “But I'm ready.”
“Whose ass are we kicking today?” Derek smirks.
“Not sure yet,” I mutter, stalking toward the back door. Sebastian falls into step beside me. So does Derek.
“I got some photos a while back. From one of the bodyguards I hired when I was on a mission.” My fists clench. “Izzy with a man. Looked like she was flirting. It turned my fucking world upside down.”
Derek’s brow furrows. “Why the hell would he send them to you?”
Sebastian cocks a brow, “Were they even real?”
“What they were giving up wasn’t true.” I exhale sharply, the memory slicing through me like a fresh wound. “But, at that moment, it looked real. And it tore through me. I hate myself for even letting that doubt crawl into my mind.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Sebastian stops, disbelief etched across his face. “Nathan—Isabel adores you. Venerates you. Anyone with eyes can see that.”
“I know. That’s the thing. So why the hell send them to me?” My voice rises, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “If it was for money, or the press, or even blackmail—Izzy’s the bigger name. Hell, she’s the lawyer. She’d be the bigger target.”
“Blackmailing a damn lawyer?” Sebastian scoffs. “That’s next-level stupid.”
“I don’t care about the logic. I just want to know why. I want the truth. No more shadows.”
“I don’t think it was made on an impulse.” Derek finishes his beer in a gulp, “I mean, if he knew you were on a mission, it seems something planned.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes. “The guy who took the pictures—is he still working for you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then let’s find out.” Dereck sets the empty bottle on a table and moves ahead of us. Have to say I like the guy.
We stride outside, through the side doors and toward the security post. Morris is talking with a few guards, but the moment he sees me, he stiffens. I nod once, sharply. “Morris. Come here.”
He jogs over immediately. “Sir.”
“Where’s Kennet?”
“He’s been dismissed, Sir. I brought in someone else to replace him,” Morris says, shoulders squared.
“Why?”
He draws in a deep breath. “I overheard a call. Between him and Julian McLeod. He was spying on Mrs. Isabel. Recording her, tracking her. I know it wasn’t my job to fire him, but I made sure those photos were erased—completely.”
My blood runs cold, then hot. I take a slow step forward, looming. “Did he say why he was doing it?”
“He said Julian hired him. Told him to snap those pictures and send them directly to you.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all he gave me. But…” Morris glances away. “Julian’s got a thing for her.”
Sebastian and Derek echoes my thoughts. “Of course he does.”
Rage pulses behind my eyes. This piece of shit had the audacity to use my absence to spy on my wife—try to twist what we had.
Without a word, I pivot and march across the lawn to the security lot. Derek and Sebastian follow close behind, already cracking his knuckles.
Julian’s leaning against the hood of his car, puffing on a cigarette, laughing at something one of the rookies said. But the moment he spots me; his smirk starts to falter.
Too late.
My fist crashes into his face with a satisfying crack, knocking him back against the hood. The guards around him flinch and instinctively back off. None of them dares move. Good.
I loom over him, jaw clenched so tight it aches. “If you ever lay your eyes on my wife again—even by fucking mistake—I’ll put you six feet under. No questions. No warnings.”
He staggers back to his feet, holding his bleeding nose, trying to laugh it off. “It was a joke. Just an innocent one—”
Sebastian’s fist connects with his gut, and Julian doubles over like a rag doll. “Fuck,” Sebastian says with a grin. “I missed this kind of action.”
“Nathan!” Alice’s voice carries from the patio. “You’re gonna miss the toast!”
I whip around and wave toward her. “I’m coming!”
I turn back to Morris, nod once. We’re good. The message has been delivered, loud and clear.
Sebastian and I head back inside.
“God, I missed our old days,” he chuckles, rubbing his knuckles. “Your kid’s gonna need someone to teach him the classics. I may apply.”
I pull him into a hug, the tension finally bleeding from my shoulders. “Uncle Sebastian it is.”
“You guys are hilarious,” Derek chuckles, shaking his head like he’s just witnessed peak madness. “If that’s how you deal with shit over here, I might move here too.”
Honestly, chaos is kind of our love language.
“So, who should be the next dress I design?” Derek asks, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Without hesitation, I point straight at Sebastian. The man has swagger, sure—but the idea of him in a gown? Iconic.
Sebastian cocks a brow at Derek, feigning offense. “Hey, no rush,” he says, laughing. “I still have time, and you, my friend…” He slings an arm over Derek’s shoulders like he’s about to deliver an award-winning roast.
“Me what?” Derek arches a brow, amused.
“You’re in your late thirties. No woman to dress? Tragic.”
Derek shrugs with a smirk. “I prefer undressing them.”
I let out a loud bark of laughter. “Sounds damn right. Honestly, I’d place a bet, but I have no idea which one of you is more doomed.”
At the same time, Derek points to Sebastian, and Sebastian points right back at Derek. Like two toddlers trying to dodge blame for a broken vase.
These two… They’re ridiculous. And kind of perfect. We all need a Sebastian and a Derek in our lives—one to dress us up in sequins, and the other to talk us into questionable decisions.
“I’m waiting for you in Greendale,” Sebastian says, patting my shoulder like a mob boss summoning a foot soldier.
“For your bachelor party?” I tease, already picturing the strippers he’d pretend to be too sophisticated for.
“Fuck off, I still have time,” he replies with a laugh.
“We might come after the honeymoon though.” I nod. “Just need to book the hotel.”
“Family stays at the palace,” he adds with a grin.
Before I can respond, K walks in, wearing that ‘I-have-five-fires-to-put-out’ expression.
“Duty calls,” he says, offering me a quick nod. Then he grins, “Again, congratulations, daddy.”
My heart skips like it heard its favorite song. I’m going to be a dad. Still sounds surreal every time someone says it.
Sebastian turns to Derek. “Need a ride back to D.C.?”
Derek shakes his head, already half-smirking. “Nah. Gonna enjoy London for a few more days.”
He throws a wink at Sebastian, and I swear Sebastian rolls his eyes so hard I hear them click.
God, I love this mess of a friend group.
Back inside, the light hits Isabel just right, like a halo framing her face. She’s radiant. Effortless. Mine.
I blow her a kiss, and she catches it with a soft smile.
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