Chapter 3

There wasn’t even a chance for a carefully planned "coincidental" encounter.

A dull ache formed at my temples when I thought about relying solely on that dream.

But before I could come up with a proper solution, trouble found Nathaniel once again.

…

It was the second time I had ever seen Nathaniel lose control like that.

I was kidnapped once.

Nathaniel was the one who found me in an abandoned factory, leading the police straight to my location.

"Naomi…"

His eyes were red as he took in the bruises on my face. His hand lifted slightly but hesitated, as if afraid that even the slightest touch would hurt me.

Then, unable to suppress his fury any longer, he snapped.

Teeth clenched, fists tight, he threw punch after punch at the kidnappers, his rage so brutal that no one dared to step in and stop him until, through the pain, I called out to him.

"Nathaniel, it hurts."

"Nathaniel, stop!"

It was a similar scene with the same voice pleading with him.

But this time, I wasn’t the one who managed to stop him.

The ache in my chest spread slowly, but it was still bearable.

And over time, it would fade.

I watched, calm and detached, as Nathaniel delivered one last ruthless kick before turning, panic-stricken to check if Joanna was hurt.

His concern for her was unmistakable.

"You’re really just going to stand there and take this?"

The friend who brought me out to clear my mind was fuming, her voice filled with disbelief.

"Does that trash even remember he has a fiancée?"

I stopped her.

I planned to slip away quietly.

But before I could leave, one of Nathaniel’s friends spotted me.

"Well, well, looks like our future Mrs. Reid has a knack for showing up at just the right time!"

He deliberately raised his voice, blocking my path with a smug grin.

Then, turning to Nathaniel, he joked, "Alright, Nate, take Joanna and get her injuries treated. Your fiancée’s here. She’ll handle the rest."

They all assumed, without question, that I was here to clean up Nathaniel’s mess.

I had no choice but to stop.

Nathaniel looked up then and finally saw me.

For a brief second, he froze.

His fingers instinctively loosened around Joanna’s hand, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by realization, then cold fury.

"Naomi."

Nathaniel curved his lips into a smirk, though the expression never reached his eyes.

"This was your doing, wasn’t it?"

I frowned. "What?"

"You were upset that I skipped your birthday banquet, so you had someone target Joanna on purpose."

Step by step, he closed the distance between us, his expression growing sharper, colder, almost terrifying, until he stood right in front of me, looking down with a cold, condescending gaze.

"This is just like you, isn’t it? Playing the perfect act in public while scheming behind the scenes—deceptive and completely fake."

I was stunned.

Beyond Nathaniel, I caught sight of Joanna, who should have looked frightened.

Instead, she seemed uneasy, deliberately avoiding my gaze.

I see.

Understanding dawned, but I forced myself to stay calm as I explained, "I have no reason to do something like this.

"This was just a coincidence. If I had known you two would be here, I wouldn’t have even stepped out of my house."

It was the truth.

But Nathaniel didn’t believe me.

He suddenly grabbed my wrist, his voice dripping with mockery.

"You really think I’d fall for your lies again?

"Naomi, haven’t you been scheming all this time to marry into the Reid family? And now, before you’ve even secured your place as Mrs. Reid, you’re already acting high and mighty, trying to discipline me?

“Who do you think you are? What right do you have to interfere in my life?"

His grip tightened, the pain sharp enough to make me wince.

My brows furrowed as I gritted out, "Let go."

But he didn’t. His expression only grew darker, his irritation mounting.

I had no leverage with Liam yet.

For now, I couldn’t afford to completely fall out with Nathaniel or the Reid family.

But the situation was almost laughable.

The same man who once handled me with such delicate care, as if I were made of porcelain was now doing everything he could to hurt me.