Chapter 1885

No.1

Confusion flickered across Isabella's face.

Nathaniel remained focused as his hands moved with practiced precision. He applied gentle pressure along her thighs. Then he checked her knees. Finally, he examined both her legs thoroughly.

After professionally assessing her feet, his tense expression gradually softened. "You're unharmed this time," he stated. "But never pull such a reckless stunt again!"

Isabella frowned, trying to process his words.

It took her a moment to understand. He must have seen the footage of her jumping from the building. He was worried about potential injuries. That's why he was checking her body so carefully...

A sudden warmth spread through her chest. An unfamiliar emotion stirred within her heart.

This man who seemed so cold-hearted was being incredibly gentle with her. Yet he had been utterly ruthless with Vivienne just moments earlier.

If this continued, things could spiral out of control. She might not be able to maintain her composure much longer...

Isabella looked up at him with weary eyes. "Nathaniel," she said softly. "The person you should care about is Vivienne, not me. Didn't you always want to know what happened to me five years ago? I should have told you this afternoon. Listen carefully now."

No.2

She took a deep breath and met his gaze directly. "Five years ago, Victoria paid someone to ra—"

"Enough!" Nathaniel's voice cut through the air like a whip.

His body suddenly pressed against hers, caging her between his arms. "I said stop!" he commanded sternly.

He already knew. Even before she finished her sentence, he understood completely. It matched exactly what he had suspected last night.

Isabella had been...

The woman he dared not touch. The woman he placed on a pedestal. Someone else had violated her.

A cold, deadly aura radiated from him. He resembled a king emerging from hell itself.

Isabella could feel his rage emanating from him. It was palpable, just a breath away. Alarmed, she stared at him. "You should let me go now," she said. "Consider our three-month contract terminated effective immediately."

"Who said anything about letting you go?" Nathaniel's expression hardened into something unreadable.

No.3

Isabella frowned in confusion. He knew the truth now. Why wasn't he releasing her? What more could he possibly want from her?

"Does Mr. Blackwood want to imitate some romantic drama protagonist?" she asked sarcastically. "Playing the noble hero who doesn't care about the heroine's tainted past?"

In her opinion, men who pursued women with complicated histories like hers were simply inviting trouble. If she were in his position, she would never choose a partner who brought so much baggage.

"You're absolutely right," Nathaniel replied simply.

He agreed with her...?

Was he actually saying he didn't look down on her? A man of his status truly didn't judge her for her past?

Seeing her confusion, Nathaniel spoke in a husky voice. "It seems I need to convince you properly."

Without warning, he lowered his body and pressed her against the table. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss.

Isabella's mind went completely blank. Shock reverberated through her entire being.

No.4

Nathaniel was kissing her... He was actually kissing her...

This was her first real kiss, if she didn't count what happened five years ago!

She instinctively tried to fight back. Her hands pushed against his chest, but his muscular frame didn't budge. He was too strong, too heavy.

Initially, Nathaniel had intended only a simple kiss to prove his point. But this long-overdue contact ignited something primal within him. It was like rain finally falling after a prolonged drought.

A strange yet familiar sensation overwhelmed his senses. It reminded him of that beautiful night five years ago. All self-restraint vanished completely.

Nathaniel Blackwood possessed a peculiar trait since childhood. Women held no sway over him. Even under the influence of drugs, his control remained absolute.

Yet five years ago, a woman entered his room. She shattered the rules he had meticulously upheld his entire life. He believed she would be the only one to ever captivate him. In the years that followed, no one else ignited that same fire within him.

It was utterly bewildering then, that Isabella Montgomery could dismantle his composure so completely. She evoked a fervent, desperate wanting he had not felt since that night.

A wave of cold dread washed over her. Panic, sharp and sudden, seized her. Her teeth sank into his lower lip with brutal force.

No.5

A sharp hiss of pain escaped him. His grip on her loosened instinctively.

She shoved him away, scrambling upright. Her eyes blazed with a defensive fury. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Blackwood? My past does not grant you the right to assault me."

He frowned, his thumb brushing the bead of blood at the corner of his mouth. "That was not my intention—"

"I don't care about your intentions. I expect you to behave. I do not welcome being touched." She moved to stride past him, wanting only to put distance between them. His actions had unearthed a ghost she desperately tried to forget.

His hand shot out, encircling her wrist, halting her retreat. "My apologies," he said, his voice low and solemn. "I lost control."

Her steps faltered. Before she could form a response, he continued. "I merely wished to make something clear, Ms. Montgomery. Your past is of no consequence to me. Furthermore, the proposal I extended upon our first meeting remains open."

The proposal still stands.

The implication hung heavy in the air. He would still marry her. Take a woman like her, soiled and unchaste, as his wife.

A strange, foreign sensation bloomed in her chest. He turned her to face him, his gaze piercing. "If that is the reason for your continued rejection, discard it. The one who should bear the shame is the monster who harmed you, not you. You have done nothing wrong. Why should you deny yourself the happiness you deserve?"

No.6

His words, deep and resonant, were a balm and a challenge. They chipped away at the fortress around her heart.

This was the twenty-first century, yet the stain of violation remained a global taboo. A mark of otherness. Even Alexander Whitmore had told her, five years ago, that she had forfeited the right to be choosy. That she was lucky to have any offer at all.

For five years, her mentors had pushed William Kensington toward her. They praised his willingness to accept her. They called it a blessing. Their underlying message was clear: no respectable man would truly want her. Her accomplishments were secondary to the charity of a husband.

Over time, she had internalized it. She stopped believing she deserved love. She stopped chasing it.

And now, out of nowhere, Nathaniel Blackwood was telling her she had done nothing wrong. That she should not abandon her pursuit of happiness.

Confusion swirled within her. Had she wasted years punishing herself for a crime committed against her? Even if he was willing to accept her, did she truly have the right to stand beside him?

"Apologies," she murmured, pulling her wrist from his grasp. "I need to be alone." She pushed the door open and left. The urge to say yes was a tangible ache, but cooler heads were needed. For both of them.

Nathaniel’s eyes turned to ice as he watched Isabella walk away. The moment she disappeared from view, he pulled out his phone. He dialed Dominic’s number. “I want the entire Blackthorn Syndicate eliminated,” he commanded. “You have ten days.”

They dared to lay a hand on his woman? He would erase every last trace of them from the earth.

No.7

Meanwhile…

Vivienne stepped out of the grand Blackwood Estate. She paused on the gravel driveway. She turned back to look at the imposing mansion.

A cold smirk twisted her lips. Did Nathaniel truly believe she was oblivious? She was a master in every field. Her hearing was far superior to any ordinary person’s. She had distinctly heard faint footsteps from the attic. She had caught the murmur of a child’s voice. And a woman’s.

There was no doubt about it. A woman was hidden inside Nathaniel’s home.

He was keeping a woman secret from her. Who was she? Who could possibly capture Nathaniel’s heart besides Vivienne herself?

She turned sharply to the maid holding the umbrella for her. “Who is the woman living in this mansion?” she demanded.

The maid, Lillian, lowered her head nervously. “I… I don’t know what you’re referring to, Ms. Vivienne.”

Vivienne let out a derisive laugh. “Do not take me for a fool. Remember your place. I am the woman respected by the Old Master and Madam. I am the future mistress of this house. Choose your next words very carefully.”