Chapter 230

She had made the firm decision to pull away from Nathaniel just this afternoon too.

Isabella’s mind began to churn. Wasn’t this all a little too convenient? Oliver said he was dizzy, and then Nathaniel walked in and struck him with that stick.

Amid the tangled thoughts, something clicked into place. Nathaniel’s acting was simply too convincing. He staged this whole scene with his own son… just to get into her bed? Strangely, the realization didn’t anger her. She couldn’t even muster the will to be truly upset. If this continued, things would inevitably escalate between them.

Isabella’s eyes narrowed as she reached a critical decision. She would tell him the truth. He would find out eventually, and she despised living a lie.

She carefully rehearsed the words in her head, clenching her fists tightly. “Nathaniel,” she confessed, her voice low but clear, “Don’t fall for me. Nothing can ever happen between us. Five years ago, I was… I had a baby.”

A heavy weight seemed to lift from her chest the moment the words left her lips, yet a sharp, persistent ache took its place in her heart.

She was certain this confession would shatter whatever feelings he had for her. This was the end. Their story was over before it ever truly began.

Isabella slowly closed her eyes, bracing for his reaction. She waited. And waited. But the only response was a profound, deafening silence. The room was so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat.

Frowning, she turned her head to look at him. In the silvery moonlight, his eyes were shut, his brow smooth and untroubled. His expression was peaceful, his breathing deep and even.

He was asleep. He had fallen asleep that fast?

After she had gathered every ounce of her courage to reveal her deepest secret… he was sleeping.

A wave of pure fury washed over her. He had no idea how much it had cost her to say those words, and he… he just slept!

Forget it. Maybe it was fate. They would talk tomorrow. Remembering the Celestial Gala tomorrow night, she forced herself to push down her anger and try to sleep.

Morning light filtered into the room. Isabella opened her eyes to the sight of a bare, sculpted chest. The scent was clean and distinctly masculine.

Wait. What was this?

Why was she curled into Nathaniel’s arm, her head nestled against his chest?

Where was Oliver? Hadn’t he been sleeping between them? How did this happen?

And more importantly, where was Oliver now?

She bolted upright. The other side of the bed was empty. Oliver was gone. It was just her and Nathaniel in the room. He was lying on his side, one leg draped possessively over hers.

“Nathaniel Blackwood!” she scowled, her voice sharp. “Care to explain this?”

Nathaniel’s eyes fluttered open. Sleep softened his usually intimidating features, making him look like a drowsy, powerful lion.

It took him a moment to process the situation. “Explain what?” he asked, his voice a deep, sleep-roughened rumble.

“Stop playing dumb! Explain why you’re holding me! Where is Oliver?” Her eyes were wide with accusation.

“Holding you?” He frowned, a hint of amusement in his tired gaze. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking questions, Miss Montgomery? Take a good look at your current position. Don’t you owe me an explanation?” His voice was a magnetic drawl.

Isabella’s gaze dropped to their entangled limbs. The reality of the situation hit her, and it was far worse than she initially thought.