Chapter 14

Between Isabella and Harrison, Nathaniel would always choose Isabella.

Harrison was never her match.

Nathaniel's icy stare cut through the man before him, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Get out."

The man scrambled away without a backward glance.

Nathaniel's sharp gaze shifted to Isabella as he freed his arm from her grasp. "Isabella, are you done with your theatrics?"

She stiffened, her face freezing. "You're blaming me? If I hadn't intervened, you'd be in bed with Harrison right now!"

His expression remained unreadable. "So you drugged yourself?"

Isabella, accustomed to Nathaniel's indulgence, lifted her chin defiantly. "Yes. Touch Harrison, and I'll let another man touch me."

Nathaniel's face darkened, the air around him turning frigid. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

He left.

No attempt to placate her.

As Nathaniel moved through The Velvet Lounge, every female eye followed his commanding presence. Their hungry gazes lingered on his striking features.

Isabella, ever the strategist, wouldn't give Harrison—or any of these women—a chance.

The spoiled princess swallowed her pride and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Nathaniel's waist from behind. "Nathaniel, don't go." He stopped.

She clung tighter, her red lips forming a pout. "Nathaniel, I'm sorry. I just... love you too much. The thought of you with another woman destroys me."

Her face pressed against his back. "Nathaniel, I feel so dizzy."

After a tense silence, Nathaniel turned. Without speaking, he scooped her into his arms.

Her delicate frame looked perfect against his broad chest, drawing envious stares. Isabella looped her arms around his neck, a triumphant smile playing on her lips.

and

Thirty minutes later, Nathaniel carried Isabella into Rosewood Manor.

Unlike the marital home he shared with Harrison at Emerald Heights, this was his private sanctuary. The monochrome interiors screamed understated luxury, every detail oozing wealth.

In the master bedroom, Nathaniel deposited her on the plush bed.

As he turned to leave, Isabella's arms snaked around his neck. "Nathaniel, are you still angry?"

He reached to remove her hands.

But she leaned in, her face inches from his. "Big Brother," she breathed.

Nathaniel froze.

For a fleeting moment, Harrison's face flashed in his mind. Had Harrison ever called him that?

No, impossible. That endearment belonged solely to Isabella.

Placing his hands on either side of her, Nathaniel leaned closer. "Don't do this again."

Isabella knew "Big Brother" was her trump card—the one thing that guaranteed his forgiveness.

Suddenly, Nathaniel asked, "Isabella, where's the jade pendant I gave you?"

Her eyes flickered.

The pendant wasn't here. She needed to retrieve it before he found out.

"It's at home," she lied quickly, changing tactics.

Isabella tightened her grip, pulling him closer until their lips almost touched. The tension between them crackled. "Nathaniel, I've been drugged," she whispered.

His gaze dropped to her flushed lips. "And?"

"You're my antidote."

She closed the distance between them.