Chapter 2

Harrison met Nathaniel's gaze without flinching. Her voice carried quiet determination as she repeated, "I want a divorce, Nathaniel. Did you enjoy your birthday present?"

Nathaniel didn't react. "You're ending our marriage because I missed my birthday dinner?"

"Isabella's back, isn't she?"

At the mention of Isabella, Nathaniel's lips twisted into a sardonic smile. He closed the distance between them in one stride. "Jealous?"

The youngest billionaire in Willowbrook radiated power with every movement. Harrison instinctively retreated until her back hit the cold wall.

Nathaniel caged her in, one hand planted beside her head. His muscular frame blocked all escape.

His piercing eyes bored into hers. "The entire city knows Isabella was my choice. You schemed your way into this marriage when she left. Why the sudden conscience?"

Harrison's face paled.

Yes, Nathaniel had loved Isabella. Without that accident putting him in a coma, she'd never have become Mrs. Falcon.

She'd never forget the icy disappointment in his eyes when he woke and found her by his bedside.

Separate bedrooms. No intimacy.

He loved Isabella.

She'd always known this, but...

Harrison studied Nathaniel's face, superimposing the man before her with the boy from her memories.

'Nathaniel, do you really not remember me?'

She'd been waiting for someone who no longer existed.

Enough.

Three years of one-sided devotion.

Suppressing the ache in her chest, Harrison whispered, "Let's end this farce of a marriage."

Nathaniel's eyebrow arched. "Farce?"

He seized her chin, thumb brushing her lower lip. "Is that what this is about? You're frustrated?" His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "Need me that badly?"

Heat flooded Harrison's cheeks.

That wasn't what she meant!

Yet Nathaniel kept tracing her mouth with shocking intimacy. The usually composed billionaire had a wicked side.

He was seeing Harrison properly for the first time. Normally hidden behind oversized glasses and drab outfits, now he noticed her delicate features, the striking eyes behind those lenses.

Her lips were impossibly soft. Tempting.

A dangerous thought surfaced.

Nathaniel's gaze darkened. "Who knew my proper wife was so desperate?"

Slap!

Harrison's palm connected with his cheek. Nathaniel's head snapped sideways.

Her hand trembled. Love shouldn't require sacrificing dignity. He'd crossed a line.

"I know you never stopped loving Isabella," she spat. "Fine. You can have your precious Mrs. Falcon title back!"

Nathaniel's expression turned glacial. No one had ever struck him.

His voice dripped venom. "You married me when it suited you. Now you'll divorce on a whim? What am I to you?"

Harrison laughed bitterly. "A trophy."

"What?"

"A prize I stole from Isabella." She forced the words out, ignoring the pain. "I'm bored now. Time to discard you."

Nathaniel's face darkened. "Fine! Don't come crawling back!"

He stormed upstairs, the study door slamming shut.

Harrison slid down the wall, hugging her knees. 'Nathaniel, I'm done loving you.'

Next morning, Beatrice entered the study.

Nathaniel was reviewing documents, the notorious workaholic.

"Sir?" Beatrice approached cautiously.

He didn't look up. The air around him was frigid.

She set down a coffee. "Mrs. Falcon made this."

Nathaniel's pen stilled. The coffee he liked. Was this her apology?

Truthfully, Harrison was an impeccable wife—excellent cook, meticulous homemaker.

He took a sip. Perfect, as always.

But no. She'd slapped him. A coffee wouldn't suffice.

"Did she apologize?" Nathaniel demanded.

Beatrice hesitated. "Sir... Mrs. Falcon left."

Nathaniel froze.

She handed him a document. "She asked me to give you this."

The words "Divorce Agreement" glared up at him.

His expression darkened. He'd thought this was reconciliation.

Beatrice added, "She requested you finish the coffee before signing."

Nathaniel glared at the cup. "Throw it out!"

'But you were enjoying it moments ago,' Beatrice thought, swiftly removing it.

Nathaniel scanned the agreement. She wanted nothing—no alimony, no assets.

He scoffed. How would a small-town girl survive without his money?

Then he saw her handwritten reason for divorce:

"My husband suffers from erectile dysfunction and cannot perform marital duties."

Nathaniel's face turned thunderous.

'That damn woman!'

He grabbed his phone and dialed Harrison.

She answered immediately. "Yes?"