Chapter 500

Nathaniel stood frozen, feeling like prey surrounded by predators.

No one wanted him there anymore.

"Grandmother, I just need to see Harrison," he murmured.

Eleanor exhaled sharply, her patience frayed. "Fine. One look. That's it."

Nathaniel perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Harrison's delicate features. Without realizing, his fingers twitched toward her.

Eleanor slapped his hand away with a sharp crack. "I said look, not touch!"

Nathaniel clenched his jaw and withdrew. "What did the doctor say? The baby—is it okay?"

Eleanor leveled him with a glare. "They're both fine. Not that you deserve to know."

His lips pressed into a thin line. Silence stretched between them.

Then Eleanor's voice softened, though her words cut deep. "Harrison's carrying your child. Don't you want to be a father?" The question hung in the air, barely audible under the dim hospital lights.

Nathaniel hesitated. "I never considered it."

A slow smile curved Eleanor's lips. "Then start now. Picture it—a little boy or girl with your eyes or Harrison's smile, calling you 'Daddy,' begging to be held." Her expression warmed at the thought of finally cradling her great-grandchild.

Nathaniel arched a brow. "You still believe that baby is mine? You really think you're getting a great-grandchild?"

Eleanor blinked, startled.

"I've told you," Nathaniel said, frustration simmering beneath his calm tone. "That child isn't mine. Wake up."

He was doing her a favor. The higher she let her hopes climb, the harder the fall would be.

Eleanor's hand shot out, smacking the back of his head. "How did our family end up with someone like you?"

Nathaniel rubbed the spot, fighting a smirk. "Hit me again, and I might hit back."

That was the last straw. "Out! I never should've let you stay! Get out!"

Two seconds later, Nathaniel found himself in the hallway, the door slamming behind him.

Thud.

He exhaled sharply, irritation coiling tighter.

Rosalind leaned against the wall, smirking. "That was fast. Grandma kick you out?"

Nathaniel shot her a flat look. "Where are the kidnappers and the doctor? Have they talked?"

Just then, Alistair approached, his expression grim.

"Nathaniel," he greeted.

Nathaniel nodded. "Uncle Alistair."

Alistair ran a hand through his hair. "We have them in custody, but they're not talking. Whoever's behind this—they're protected."

The door creaked open. Eleanor stepped out, determination etched into every line of her face.

She turned to Nathaniel, her gaze piercing. "Answer me this—if we find who did this, will you let them walk away?"

Nathaniel frowned. "No."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed. "Then answer this—what if it's Isabella?"

"Isabella?" Nathaniel stared at her, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "You're telling me Isabella orchestrated this?"

Eleanor and Rosalind exchanged a loaded glance.

"Yes," Eleanor said. "We think she sent those men to kidnap Harrison—to get rid of the baby."

Rosalind crossed her arms. "So, Nathaniel—if it's Isabella, will you protect her?"