Chapter 75
No.1
Isabella instinctively tried to pull back, but Nathaniel’s grip tightened. “Relax. I’m taking you to the balcony.”
He led the way, her hand still enclosed in his.
The pond was designed with stone pathways that arched just above the water, weaving through the blooming lotuses.
She didn’t dare struggle, afraid she might accidentally pull them both into the water. She allowed him to guide her toward the garden’s edge.
They stopped at the railing. The night air was cool against their skin. Below, the city glittered with countless lights. Above, the sky was a blanket of stars. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The atmosphere felt intimate, almost dreamlike.
Against her will, Isabella found herself drawn into the moment. But she knew it couldn’t last.
She forced her eyes away, mentally rehearsing what she needed to say.
Just then, Nathaniel turned abruptly. His gaze was intense, direct. “Isabella,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can give you a home.”
His words, carried on the breeze, made her heart stutter.
A home.
No.2
Was this a proposal?
It wasn’t the first time he’d expressed his feelings. Letting this continue was dangerous.
She pulled her hand from his, her expression turning serious. “Mr. Blackwood, don’t you investigate a person’s past before developing feelings for them?” Her pregnancy had been a well-kept secret, explained away as a prolonged illness and a trip to Africa. But a man of Nathaniel’s resources could uncover it if he tried.
“I’m drawn to who you are now,” he replied. “Your past doesn’t change that.”
“What if I told you I’ve killed someone?” she challenged. “Or that I was once pregnant? That I have a child out there somewhere?”
His brow furrowed slightly. A shadow crossed his features. Isabella braced for his disgust. A man of his stature would surely recoil.
Instead, his expression cleared. “If you killed someone, they must have deserved it. I’d help you finish the job. And a child?” A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. “That would mean I get an instant family. Oliver would have a sibling to play with.”
Isabella was speechless. Did he think this was a joke?
“I’m being serious, Nathaniel.”
“So am I,” he stated, his face completely earnest. She stared, utterly stunned.
No.3
Was he? Did he truly mean he wouldn’t care? Even about murder? Even about another man’s child?
It seemed impossible. He must believe she was testing him. She drew a sharp breath, gathering her resolve. “Nathaniel, there’s something I need to tell you. Now is the time. We can’t be together because, five years ago—”
“Mr. Blackwood! Sir!”
Dominic’s frantic voice cut through the night as he sprinted toward them. “It’s Oliver! Something’s wrong!”
Nathaniel’s posture snapped to attention. “What happened?”
“He’s having seizures!” Dominic gasped, his face pale. “Violent ones!”
“Where is Sebastian?” Nathaniel demanded, already grabbing Isabella’s hand and pulling her back toward the house.
All thoughts of her confession vanished. The mention of Christopher in trouble sent a jolt of pure terror through her. She needed to see him. Now.
“We’ve contacted him,” Dominic said, struggling to keep pace. “But it will take him at least twenty minutes to get here.”
"Hot water. A towel. And the mouth guard. Now."
No.4
Nathaniel's voice cut through the tension as he pulled Isabella into the descending elevator.
Her mind raced with images of Christopher's fragile state. She barely registered Nathaniel's firm grip on her hand.
They reached the second-floor nursery. Oliver writhed on his bed, small body seized by violent tremors. Veins bulged beneath his pale skin.
This was far worse than anything Isabella had witnessed before.
"Wait outside," Nathaniel commanded. The scene would undoubtedly terrify her.
She surprised him by stepping forward. "No. I'm staying with Oliver."
She moved quickly to the bedside, taking his small hand in hers. "Oliver, it's Aunt Isabella. I'm right here with you."
He gave no sign of recognition. His body continued to convulse relentlessly.
His eyes rolled back, leaving only the whites visible. Sweat poured from his forehead.
Isabella knew this was no ordinary episode. The severity shook her to the core.
No.5
She turned desperate eyes to Nathaniel. "What's happening to him? Why is it this bad? How do we help him?"
"Stay calm. He'll be alright," Nathaniel reassured her evenly. He used the warm towel to wipe Oliver's face and neck.
Then he gently inserted the mouth guard between Oliver's teeth. Preventing him from biting his tongue.
Isabella prided herself on her composure. But now she felt utterly useless.
She could only watch Nathaniel work while she murmured comforts. "Be brave, sweet boy. You promised to be strong. I'm not going anywhere."
Oliver kept convulsing. Trapped in some private agony beyond their reach.
Nathaniel spoke softly. "This happens several times a year. Sebastian will give him the injection. It always helps."
"But Sebastian isn't here yet. We have over ten minutes to wait..."
Ten more minutes of this suffering. For a child so small.
Isabella's heart shattered. "He goes through this every time? There's no permanent treatment?"
No.6
Nathaniel's gaze darkened. He said nothing. There was no other way. Oliver had to endure.
The next minutes stretched into an eternity.
They could only stand by. Ensuring he didn't harm himself. Watching helplessly.
Finally, Sebastian arrived. He moved with efficient speed, administering the injection.
The convulsions gradually subsided. Oliver's small body stilled. But his eyes remained closed.
"Let's give him space to rest," Sebastian said quietly.
Isabella lingered, staring at Oliver's pale face. Her worry deepened. She followed the men out reluctantly.
Once the door closed, she turned to Sebastian. "What's really wrong with him? There must be some solution."
"It's affective psychosis. Growing up without a mother... The Blackwoods provide everything materially. But emotional needs are harder to meet. He desperately wants a mother. Until that void is filled, these episodes will continue."
"But I was with him today. He seemed so happy. Why would it trigger now?"
No.7
"Before meeting you, he had four to six episodes yearly. This one was overdue, actually. Perhaps his happiness made him fear losing it more." Isabella's heart clenched. Four to six times a year. So much pain for a five-year-old.
He had been radiant today. Giving gifts. Serving food. She thought he felt secure.
Instead, he feared it was temporary.
Nathaniel studied her intently. "Ms. Montgomery. I have a request."