Chapter 873
No.1
Yet, staring into his sincere eyes, her anger faltered.
“Do you truly want to help me?” Her voice was quiet.
He nodded without hesitation.
A bitter irony washed over her.
If Nathaniel knew what happened back then, would he still look at her like this?
The secret was already unraveling.
Hiding it was pointless now.
Better he hear it from her.
She took a steadying breath.
No.2
Her lips parted. “Since you want to know… I hope you can accept the answer.”
“Five years back, I was—”
“Mom! Mom!”
Before Isabella could complete her sentence, a small figure burst into the room. Holding a bowl of green herbal soup, Oliver rushed toward her and offered it. “Mom, Dad had them prepare this special recipe for you. It’ll help with your headache.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Isabella’s expression softened as she gently pinched Oliver’s cheek. She took the bowl and drank the soup without hesitation.
After finishing, she handed the empty bowl back to him. “Mom and Dad need to talk privately. Why don’t you go play downstairs? I’ll come find you soon.”
Isabella had decided—Nathaniel deserved to know the whole truth.
Unexpectedly, Oliver replied, “Grandpa and Grandma called earlier. They said they’ll be here in thirty minutes.” Nathaniel had instructed Oliver to stay downstairs, but the phone call changed his plans.
Isabella’s brows knitted together. “What did you say? Your grandparents are coming?”
No.3
“Yes, they want to discuss the birthday dinner with Dad. It sounded important,” Oliver answered honestly.
Isabella immediately slid out of bed and turned to Nathaniel. “I’m heading back to Rosewood Manor,” she stated firmly. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
She couldn’t let the Blackwoods discover her relationship with Nathaniel. Since she planned to leave in two months, there was no point inviting unnecessary complications.
Nathaniel noticed her concern and didn’t press further. “Drive safely,” he simply said.
“Okay.”
As Isabella prepared to leave, she remembered Oliver’s confession from days ago. She knelt before him, placing her hands warmly on his shoulders. “When they arrive, you can go to the gym and exercise. You don’t need to see your grandparents.”
“Huh? Why?” Oliver frowned. His father and teachers had always taught him to be polite and face situations head-on.
Isabella responded, “They don’t appreciate you, and they’ll only scold you if they see you. Why subject yourself to their coldness? You’ve done nothing wrong—you’re innocent. There’s no reason for you to endure their insults.”
“Remember, you’re my little prince. I can’t bear to see you compromise yourself, and you shouldn’t either! It would hurt me deeply if you did, understand?”
No.4
Oliver nodded. “Alright, I promise, Mom! For you, I won’t compromise!”
Only after Oliver made his promise did Isabella feel assured enough to leave. Before departing, she instructed the maids, “Please put my things away.”
After Isabella left, Nathaniel changed out of his pajamas and carefully stored the three sets in a box.
Shortly after, Reginald Blackwood and Beatrice Blackwood entered the mansion with Vivienne Delacroix, the eldest daughter of the Houston family.
Vivienne wore a halterneck dress adorned with diamonds. Her fair, snow-like skin and elegant demeanor made her appear almost angelic.
All the maids bowed their heads respectfully. “Sir, Madam, Ms. Delacroix.”
The three walked into the hall with an air of unshakable grace, as if nothing in the world could faze them.
Nathaniel remained lounging on the sofa, a wine glass in hand, making no move to stand and greet them.
“Your parents are here,” Reginald said with clear displeasure. “What kind of attitude is this?”
No.5
Nathaniel gave them a cold glance. “Oh? Should I have everyone step outside so we can roll out the red carpet for your grand entrance?”
“You! You insolent—” Reginald growled, the veins on his neck bulging.
Beatrice quickly tugged his arm to calm him. “Reginald, Nathaniel has always been like this. Don’t let it upset you. Remember why we’re here today.”
“Hmph!” Reginald snorted indignantly before snapping, “You will become engaged to Vivienne at my sixtieth birthday celebration! You’re getting engaged to Vivienne!”
Vivienne stood silently beside them, her refined features flushed with discomfort as she averted her gaze.
Nathaniel’s expression remained unreadable. “Since when do you decide who I date?” His voice was icy, laced with clear irritation.
Reginald slammed his cane on the floor. “How old are you now? Pushing thirty! What are you waiting for? Still chasing after that woman from five years ago?”
He scoffed. “Nathaniel, I know you resent us, but no respectable family would accept some random woman who bore your child.”
Beatrice tugged Vivienne forward. “Vivienne comes from a good background. She’s healthy and decent. She doesn’t mind that you have a son—she’s even promised to treat Christopher well. What more could you want? Even if you found that woman, how could she possibly compare to Vivienne?”
No.6
Vivienne looked at Nathaniel with practiced grace, her red lips parting softly. “Your parents aren’t getting any younger. Do you really want them worrying about you forever? And Christopher… he needs a mother. A proper upbringing. I’ve spoken with your family. If we get engaged, I’ll publicly claim him as my own. He’ll carry the Blackwood name. He’ll be your heir.”
It was a significant concession. A generous offer.
Nathaniel took a slow sip of his whiskey. “Are you finished?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.
The question hung in the air, stark and dismissive.
He set his glass down with a quiet click. “If you’re done, you can see yourselves out.” His tone offered no warmth, no negotiation.
Vivienne stiffened. She was beautiful, accomplished, from an impeccable family. Why did he look straight through her?
Reginald struck the floor again with his cane, the sound sharp with fury. “Nathaniel! Are you trying to be the death of me? You moved out years ago! When will this rebellion end? Do you have any idea the embarrassment you’ve brought upon the Blackwood name? You should be grateful a woman like Vivienne would even consider you! How dare you be so ungrateful!”
“Perhaps you should marry her, then.” Nathaniel’s gaze was flat as he rose from his chair, ready to leave.
Reginald pointed a trembling finger. “You—! You—!” He choked, gasping for air, his face turning red.
No.7
Beatrice rushed to his side, rubbing his chest. She shot Nathaniel a furious glare. “How can you speak to your father like that? Are you trying to kill him?”
Nathaniel didn’t bother with a reply. He turned, his broad back radiating cold detachment as he headed for the stairs. He didn’t care why they’d come. Their pressure for marriage was a waste of his time.
The grand hall fell silent, leaving the three of them behind. Vivienne’s hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. Men lined up for her favor across the globe. Why was Nathaniel Blackwood the only one utterly immune?
Beatrice took her hand, patting it gently. “Don’t take it to heart, Vivienne. He’s always been like this, stubborn and cold. You’ve both been busy with your companies. You haven’t had time to build a connection. Feelings need cultivation.” She smiled reassuringly. “Starting today, come by the estate every day. Spend a few hours with Christopher. Get to know them both.”
“But… wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Vivienne murmured, lowering her eyes.
“Nonsense,” Beatrice said firmly. “I am still the lady of this house. You will come. Three to four hours a day. Make yourself at home.”
“I understand your work demands attention, but your marriage deserves equal priority. You must invest more energy into this.”
Vivienne pressed her lips together. After a moment, she gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. I’ll try.”
Susan turned to address the household staff. “Take note. Miss Delacroix will soon be the lady of this house. You will treat her with the utmost respect.”