Chapter 134

Eleanor took another sip of her strawberry milkshake, her lips curling into a contented smile.

"Absolutely divine."

Her gaze then drifted to the attractive young masseur across from her. "How old might you be, young man?"

The therapist flashed a charming grin. "Eighteen, ma'am."

Eleanor arched an eyebrow in amusement. "No wonder men never outgrow their preference for eighteen-year-olds. Apparently, neither do eighty-year-old women."

Peals of laughter filled the luxurious spa room.

Harrison and Rosalind joined in the mirth, the air buzzing with feminine camaraderie.

Dominic, who had come to warn Harrison about something urgent, paused at the doorway. Hearing their lively banter, he immediately turned on his heel. Some battles weren't worth fighting - Harrison would have to handle this herself.

Nathaniel stood frozen in the entrance, veins visibly pulsing at his temples. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined finding his dignified grandmother sipping a milkshake while receiving a foot massage from a teenage boy!

A tempest of fury darkened his expression as his glare zeroed in on the obvious instigator - Harrison!

Had she completely lost her mind?

He thought their disastrous marriage had reached its conclusion, that they'd finally go their separate ways. Yet here she was, continually disrupting his life like a hurricane tearing through his carefully constructed world.

Meanwhile, Harrison remained blissfully unaware. She reclined on the plush chaise lounge, a silk sleep mask covering her eyes as the handsome masseur worked magic on her delicate feet. Her toes curled in pleasure, like a contented kitten being pampered.

Nathaniel's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. A humorless laugh escaped his lips. He remembered how she'd recoiled when he'd once touched those same feet in her dorm room, hastily hiding them beneath her skirt.

What a hypocrite.

Rosalind was the first to notice Nathaniel's imposing figure in the doorway. Her eyes widened in panic as she bolted upright. "M-Mr. Falcon?!"

Eleanor froze mid-sip, her milkshake cup trembling slightly. "Nathaniel?"

Harrison, still masked, waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Nathaniel would never set foot in a place like this. He's probably wining and dining Isabella at some Michelin-starred restaurant right now."

Before she could continue, a large hand yanked off her sleep mask. Nathaniel's stormy expression loomed inches from her face.

Harrison gasped, her eyes widening like saucers.

Nathaniel's voice dripped with icy venom. "Shoes. Now. Out."

Harrison scrambled off the chaise so quickly she nearly tripped. Moments later, the three women stood in a neat row in the hallway like misbehaving schoolgirls awaiting punishment.

They exchanged nervous glances, shoulders hunched under Nathaniel's withering glare.

"Whose brilliant idea was this?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

Eleanor and Rosalind immediately pointed at Harrison.

Harrison sighed internally. So much for female solidarity.

Rosalind cleared her throat. "Mr. Falcon, I just remembered I have a thesis deadline. I should really get back to campus." She practically sprinted down the hall.

Eleanor gave an awkward chuckle. "Nathaniel dear, it's past my bedtime. Dominic, would you be a darling and escort me home?" She vanished before Nathaniel could respond.

Suddenly, the corridor contained only Nathaniel and a very nervous Harrison.

Harrison mustered her most innocent smile. "Well, Mr. Falcon, I should probably—"

Before she could finish, Nathaniel's iron grip closed around her wrist, yanking her back. His voice was dangerously low. "Did I say you could leave?"