The night air was thick with silence, interrupted only by the faint rustle of leaves and the soft hum of the city beyond Nathaniel's estate. Arabella sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, her fingers trembling as they clutched the hem of her silk nightdress. Sleep had long abandoned her.
Nathaniel had gone silent since the confrontation earlier that evening. The way he had spoken to her — sharp, probing, as though peeling back every layer she had built over the past four years — had left her shaken. And yet, somewhere buried beneath his coldness, there was concern. She had seen it, even if he didn't want her to.
Arabella glanced at the door. Every second ticked by louder than the last. She could feel the shift in the house. Something was brewing.
A light knock echoed through the room.
She jumped to her feet, heart thudding. "Who is it?"
"It's me. Elina," came the soft voice.
Arabella rushed to open the door. Elina stepped inside, her expression tight with worry.
"You're still awake," Elina said, her voice low. "I had a feeling you would be."
Arabella nodded, closing the door behind her. "I couldn't sleep."
Elina's eyes scanned the room before settling on her. "Something's wrong. I saw one of Nathaniel's men earlier, and they looked... tense. Like they're preparing for something."
Arabella frowned. "Do you think it has anything to do with me?"
"I'm not sure. But Nathaniel's been on the phone with someone for over an hour now. He was pacing the hallway outside his study. Something big is going on."
Arabella sank back down onto the edge of the bed. "I thought things would calm down after the charity event. But it feels like everything is getting more complicated."
Elina walked over and knelt in front of her. "Bella… I know you're strong. You've survived so much. But if there's anything—anything—you're still hiding from Nathaniel, you need to be careful. He's watching you."
Arabella's eyes widened. "You think he suspects something?"
"I think he's trying to find answers. And I don't know how much longer you can keep pretending."
Arabella turned her face away. "I'm not pretending. I'm protecting."
Elina sighed and sat beside her. "What are you really protecting, Bella? Your son? Yourself? Or… Nathaniel?"
The mention of her son twisted something in her chest. "All of them," she whispered. "I just need more time."
Before Elina could respond, a loud bang erupted downstairs.
Arabella shot to her feet, panic flooding her. "What was that?"
"I don't know," Elina said, rushing to the window. She pulled back the curtain and gasped. "There are cars pulling into the driveway. Black SUVs."
Arabella's heart pounded. "Is it… Nathaniel's enemies?"
"I don't think so," Elina murmured. "But whoever it is, they're not here for small talk."
Just then, the door burst open.
Nathaniel stood there, his jaw tight, his eyes like storms brewing behind a calm facade. He glanced from Arabella to Elina. "You. Come with me," he said, pointing at Arabella.
Elina stepped protectively in front of her. "Nathaniel, what's going on?"
"It's not safe here," he said sharply. "We need to move. Now."
Arabella moved forward. "What's happening?"
He didn't answer, just grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. His grip was firm, but not painful — a silent reminder that whatever this was, it was serious.
They moved down the corridor quickly. Arabella noticed the sharp glances of the guards stationed along the hallway. Everyone looked on edge.
"Nathaniel, please, talk to me," she urged as they descended the stairs.
He didn't respond until they were in the safety of his private underground garage, away from curious eyes. A black armored car was waiting, engine humming, as if it had been prepared in advance.
Nathaniel finally turned to face her. "There's been a security breach. Someone hacked into our surveillance system. They were looking for footage of you."
Arabella froze. "Me? Why?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," he said, his voice clipped. "But whoever it is, they knew exactly what they were doing. It wasn't random."
Arabella's stomach knotted. "So what now?"
"I'm relocating you temporarily," Nathaniel said. "You'll be safer in the villa I own on the outskirts of the city. Only a few people know it exists."
Arabella tried to read his face. "And what about Elina?"
"She'll be escorted separately. I have someone I trust watching over her."
The back door of the car opened, and Nathaniel guided her inside. As the door shut behind them, Arabella found herself plunged into a deeper silence — not just the quiet hum of the engine, but the silence between them. The silence of all the questions she couldn't ask.
The car moved swiftly through the city. Arabella watched as the skyline disappeared behind them. The drive was long, tense, filled with unanswered thoughts.
Finally, after almost an hour, the car pulled into a secluded estate surrounded by tall trees and heavy security. Nathaniel led her inside. The interior was modern, clean, and tastefully designed, but it felt more like a fortress than a home.
He didn't speak again until they reached the main living area. "This is where you'll stay. At least until I'm certain the threat is neutralized."
Arabella looked at him, really looked at him. "Why are you doing all this for me?"
Nathaniel's gaze met hers. "Because I need answers. And because, no matter how much you hide, I can't let anything happen to you."
Her throat tightened. "You still think I'm lying?"
"I know you're lying," he said simply. "But I also know you're scared. And that tells me whatever you're hiding… it's not just about you."
Arabella turned away, emotions crashing in waves. "You don't know anything, Nathaniel."
He stepped closer. "Then tell me. Let me in. Whatever it is, I can help."
She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. "I can't."
"Why?"
"Because the truth will ruin everything."
He stared at her, silent. Then, with a sharp breath, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone with the weight of her secrets.
Arabella sat down slowly, every muscle in her body tense. She had gotten too close. Let too much slip.
She had come back into Nathaniel's life with one mission — to stay hidden and protect her son. But now, with danger circling and her past threatening to explode, she wondered how much longer she could walk this tightrope.
A knock on the door broke her thoughts.
It was a message from Elina, passed through one of the guards. Scrawled in hurried handwriting were the words:
"They know something. Be careful. I think your past is catching up."
Arabella's footsteps echoed in the marble corridor as she followed the butler toward the private study Nathaniel had retreated to. Her thoughts churned restlessly, memories of the auction room, Nathaniel's silent fury, and the weight of their fake marriage contract all swirling in her mind. When the butler finally opened the heavy double doors, Arabella stepped into the grand room, nerves coiled tightly in her chest.
Nathaniel stood by the tall window, his back to her, arms folded behind him in a stance that exuded power and control. The dim light filtered through the glass, casting his shadow across the polished floor.
"You wanted to see me?" Arabella asked, her voice steady despite the tension knotting her stomach.
Nathaniel turned, his sharp features unreadable. "Close the door."
She obeyed silently. The click of the door closing felt heavier than it should have.
Nathaniel studied her with that piercing gaze. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to the auction?"
"I didn't know I needed your permission to attend a charity event," she replied carefully, lifting her chin.
"I don't care about the event. I care about your safety," he said, stepping closer. "That man—Jasper Monroe—he's not just some playboy. He has connections that run deep. Dangerous ones."
Arabella's brows furrowed. "He barely even spoke to me."
"But he noticed you," Nathaniel snapped. "Men like him notice women they want to manipulate. And I won't have you caught in that."
Arabella took a slow breath. "Why does it matter, Nathaniel? Is it because of the contract? Or is there something else you're not saying?"
His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. "You're my wife now. Even if it's in name, people see you as a part of me. That makes you a target."
"So you're protecting your image," she said, bitterness creeping into her tone.
"No," Nathaniel said, his voice low. "I'm protecting you."
For a brief moment, the silence between them thickened with unspoken truths. Arabella couldn't tell if he meant it as a husband or as a man protecting his investment.
Before she could press further, there was a soft knock at the door. Nathaniel's assistant, Carson, stepped in with a leather folder in hand.
"Apologies, sir. It's the file you requested."
Nathaniel took the folder, flipping it open. His expression darkened. "The board meeting was moved up to tomorrow. They want my position on the Westmont acquisition."
Arabella frowned. "Westmont?"
Nathaniel glanced at her. "A rival company. They've been quietly acquiring smaller tech firms. There's suspicion they're positioning themselves for a hostile takeover of one of my subsidiaries."
Carson hesitated. "Also, sir… your father called. Again. He wants to speak with you."
Arabella watched a shadow pass over Nathaniel's face. It was the first time she'd seen a crack in his impenetrable facade. He dismissed Carson with a nod, but the tension remained.
"Is everything alright?" she asked softly.
Nathaniel didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the bar in the corner and poured himself a drink, swirling the liquid in the glass before speaking.
"My father doesn't care about anything except legacy," he said finally. "And control. He thinks I'm weak for not remarrying a woman of status. He thinks marrying you was a... mistake."
Arabella's chest tightened. "I see."
"You're not the mistake," Nathaniel said suddenly, turning to face her. "The mistake would've been letting someone else have you."
His words hung between them, unexpected and heavy. Arabella blinked, unsure how to respond. A warmth stirred in her chest—confusion, hope, fear, all tangled together.
Then Nathaniel's phone buzzed on the desk. He glanced at the screen and stiffened.
Arabella couldn't help but ask, "Who is it?"
He hesitated. "Elena."
The name sent a chill down Arabella's spine. She remembered the beautiful woman from the gala, the one who had looked at Nathaniel like she still had a claim on him.
"You should answer," Arabella said, stepping back.
But Nathaniel ignored the phone and walked toward her. "She's not important. Not anymore."
"You said that before," Arabella replied, her voice quiet. "But I need to know where I stand."
Nathaniel reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. "You stand beside me. Whether it's for six months or longer, you're not just a placeholder, Arabella."
She searched his eyes for truth, but before either of them could say more, a loud noise erupted from outside—shouting voices, the sound of something crashing.
Nathaniel immediately turned and strode toward the door. "Stay here."
But Arabella followed anyway, her heart pounding. In the hallway, two security guards were holding back a man—disheveled, furious, and shouting her name.
Arabella froze. "M-Mark?"
Nathaniel's expression darkened like a storm. "Who the hell is he?"
Arabella stepped forward, her voice trembling. "He's… the father of my child."
Nathaniel went still, his eyes snapping toward her with a look of stunned disbelief. The hallway seemed to shrink as the words echoed between them.
"You told me he left. That he didn't know."
"I didn't expect to see him here," she whispered, shaken.
Mark fought against the guards. "Arabella, I know the truth now! I want to see my son!"
Nathaniel's expression hardened. "You're trespassing on private property."
"I don't care!" Mark yelled. "I have a right to see my son! You can't keep me away!"
Arabella turned to Nathaniel, eyes pleading. "Please. Don't make a scene. Let me talk to him. Just for a moment."
Nathaniel looked at her for a long moment before nodding once. He waved off the guards.
Arabella led Mark into the sitting room. The moment the door shut behind them, Mark's expression shifted from anger to desperation.
"I found out from Elina," he said. "She told me everything. Why didn't you tell me I had a son, Bella?"
Arabella's throat closed. "You weren't there, Mark. You abandoned me. What was I supposed to do?"
"I was scared, yes. But I didn't know you were pregnant. If I had known, I—"
"You would've run faster."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "I would've stayed. I still want to."
She flinched. "It's too late. I have a life now. My son has a life."
"With him?" Mark's voice cracked. "You're married to a billionaire. Did you think that would solve everything?"
Arabella straightened. "It's not about money. It's about safety. And choices I had to make to survive."
Mark looked shattered. "I just want a chance to know my son. Please."
Before Arabella could respond, the door opened again—and Nathaniel stood in the doorway, watching them both with an unreadable expression.
"You've had your five minutes," he said coolly. "Now leave."
Mark glanced at Arabella one last time. "I won't stop fighting for him. I'll go through the courts if I have to."
After he left, the silence in the room was unbearable. Arabella turned to Nathaniel, unsure what he would say.
"I was going to tell you," she whispered. "I just didn't know how."
Nathaniel didn't speak for a moment. Then he said, "We'll talk about this later. But understand this—no one threatens what's mine."
Arabella nodded slowly, knowing that storm was still brewing beneath his composed expression.
Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance. And in Arabella's heart, the weight of the past, the present, and the uncertain future settled heavily.