Chapter 5 - The Confrontation in the Velvet RoomDaniel took three frantic steps toward me, his hands reaching out as if he wanted to grab my shoulders, but Leo instantly stepped into his path, forming an iron wall between us.
"Clara, please!" Daniel pleaded, his eyes desperate, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "You have to listen to me! I know you're angry about last night! I know I made a mistake with Madeline! But my father forced me into that agreement! The Cross family controls forty percent of our family's commercial credit!"
He pointed a shaking finger toward Nathaniel, who remained sitting calmly in his leather chair, watching the scene like a king watching a beggar whine at his gates.
"He's using you, Clara!" Daniel yelled, his voice echoing off the high ceilings of the boutique. "Nathaniel Mercer doesn't care about you! He's using you to destroy Blackridge Timber! He put that story in the paper today to crash our stock! Once he gets our shipping corridors, he's going to throw you back into the gutter!"
I looked at Daniel. I looked at the man I had spent eleven months caring for—the man I had brought coffee to, the man whose late-night texts I had cherished, the man I had believed was my future.
I saw no strength in him. I saw no honor. I saw only a weak, selfish boy who was terrified of losing the money he had traded his soul to obtain.
"He didn't put me in the paper to destroy your stock, Daniel," I said softly, my voice dropping into a clear, razor-sharp whisper that cut through his shouting. "He put me in the paper because when I sat alone at table nineteen while you laughed with Madeline Cross, he was the only man in that room who saw my worth."
Daniel froze. His face went pale as milk.
"Clara..." he rasped out, his voice breaking. "Please... I love you. I'll break the engagement with Madeline today! I'll tell my father I don't care about the Cross merger! Just come back to me!"
A soft, low chuckle echoed from the armchair across the room.
Nathaniel stood up slowly. His tall, broad frame uncoiled, casting a long, dark shadow across the polished marble floor. He walked over slowly, standing directly beside me, his hand coming to rest firmly, possessively, over the small of my back.
His touch was warm, solid, and absolute.
"You're a day late and twenty million dollars short, Reeves," Nathaniel said, his deep baritone dripping with ice. "Clara is no longer an option for you. She never was."
Daniel looked at Nathaniel's hand on my back. He looked at the way I leaned into Nathaniel's touch—not out of fear, but out of absolute trust.
"You took her from me..." Daniel whispered, tears of rage welling in his eyes.
"You threw her away," Nathaniel corrected cleanly. "I simply picked up the most valuable treasure in this city and gave it a proper home."
Nathaniel looked at Leo. "Escort Mr. Reeves off the property. If he steps within fifty feet of Clara again, execute the short option on his father's holding accounts."
"Yes, Mr. Mercer," Leo replied, grabbing Daniel by his lapels and dragging his stumbling, shouting body out through the glass doors onto the street.
The heavy glass doors clicked shut, cutting off Daniel's yelling instantly.
Silence returned to the boutique.
I stood beside Nathaniel, my heart racing, feeling the steady, warm pulse of his hand on my back. I turned my head to look up at him.
"Did you mean that?" I whispered softly.
May you like
Nathaniel looked down at me, his gray eyes dark, deep, and filled with an intense, raw emotion that made my breath catch in my throat.
"I don't lie, Clara," he murmured, his thumb gently brushing against the silk fabric near my waist. "Especially not about you."
