Ch-42

•~•Solane’s POV

The mansion was quiet. Too quiet for a house that had nearly lost three people in one night—and the fourth still missing without a trace.

Nathaniel sat slouched in his wheelchair, eyes half-lidded but awake, while I knelt in front of him with a cloth soaked in antiseptic.

A dark bruise was blooming beneath his hairline where the gun had struck him, the skin already starting to swell. I dabbed at it carefully, wincing when his jaw clenched.

“I’m the one who got hit,” he murmured, voice low and worn, a hint of amusement slipping through. “Why are you wincing like you’re the one in pain?”

I paused, swallowing hard. “I saw you clench your jaw, and I thought the antiseptic was stinging your wound, that you were in pain…”

“...But you didn’t say anything or even curse, so I figured you were just trying to act strong, and I subconsciously winced for you.” My voice stayed even, but my hands trembled a little.

Not from what had just happened—but from the image of him hitting the ground.

The sickening sound of the gun slamming into his skull wouldn’t leave my head.

I resumed dabbing his injury, and instead of groaning or cursing like a normal person, Nathaniel smiled.

A soft, lopsided, ridiculous smile.

I frowned. I wanted to curse at him—but held back. “Why are you smiling like that? Don’t tell me that guy hit your head too hard. I told you we should’ve taken you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” he said, those green eyes still fixed on me. “I just think you’re really cute right now.”

I stared at him, stunned. “We were just attacked. Your psychiatrist got kidnapped. I was almost taken. And that’s what your brain chooses to focus on?”

He shrugged. The smile didn’t fade. “All that happened. But we’re safe now. So why can’t I smile? Or tell my wife—who’s tending to my injury—that she looks cute?”

My heart skipped a beat.

I didn’t reply. Just stared at him.

Two hours ago, fear had cut through me like a blade.

When that man—who said their boss might like me because I was pretty—grabbed me, all I could think about were the women who’d been taken in situations like this. 

Turned into sex slaves, abused, forgotten. And at that moment, I thought that would be my fate too.

But Nathaniel hadn’t hesitated. He had protected me. And he got hurt for it.

Then there was Davian.

My stomach twisted. What if my father was behind this? That would explain why I wasn’t taken along with Davian in the end. Still, I hoped it wasn’t his doing.

I had made it clear—I didn’t want anyone’s blood on our hands. I had insisted we could manage Davian with money, at least for now.

I’d have to call him to confirm he had no hand in this. Later. When I was alone.

The entrance door slammed shut. I and Nathaniel both turned as Melissa stormed in, her heels clacking sharply against the marble floor. She paced the living room, barking sharp words into her phone.

Her voice was clipped, urgent. Then she stopped abruptly, let out a sigh hard enough to shake the air, and hung up.

When her eyes met mine, I saw it—genuine panic, laced with anger.

“What did they say?” I asked.

Melissa pressed her fingers to her temple. “The chief of police says they’re doing everything they can. A special unit’s on it. Blah, blah, blah. They’ll keep us updated.” Her voice was brittle, stretched thin.

I nodded slightly. Her gaze shifted to Nathaniel.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” she said, moving toward him. Her expression hardened when she noticed the swelling on the side of his head.

“I’m not going,” Nathaniel snapped, his tone cold. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?” Melissa shot back, pointing at the wound. “You were hit in the head with a gun, Nathaniel. You could have a fractured skull, internal bleeding or even intracranial hemorrhage—”

“Intracranial hemorrhage?” Nathaniel repeated mockingly, then scoffed. “Even if I end up with any of those, it’d still be your fault,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Melissa blinked. “Excuse me? Why would it be my fault? I’m here, concerned about you, and you’re acting like a brat!”

“Concerned?!” Nathaniel snapped. “My wife was almost kidnapped, along with Davian Foster, and I could’ve died—all because you brought your boy toy into this house to play my physiatrist!” He yelled.

“Aziel!” Melissa shouted, not missing a beat.

Aziel?

I frowned, my gaze flicking to Nathaniel. He didn’t seem fazed. Who was Aziel? And why did Melissa call Nathaniel by that name?

I stared at her, watching her blink rapidly, like she was trying to keep her composure from shattering.

She straightened up. “Davian’s been kidnapped—God knows what those bastards are doing to him now…”

“... And instead of being worried, or at least pretending to be, you’re sitting here accusing him of—what, exactly?”

“Oh, please, Mom,” Nathaniel shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t insult my intelligence. I saw how you two exchanged glances at breakfast.”

Melissa’s arms stiffened at her sides. “So what if we… looked at each other?” She stuttered, which was rare for her. “That doesn’t mean anything!” she added, her tone firmer now.

“I also saw him coming out of your room. Early. This morning,” Nathaniel countered.

Her face drained of color. She stumbled over her words yet again. “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Deny it all you want,” he said, voice sharp. “All I know is what happened tonight is your fault. You didn’t vet him properly—because you were sleeping with him.”

The air snapped tight with tension. And I, for one, wasn’t at all hating the drama unfolding between mother and son.

Melissa’s mouth parted. “You’re making it sound like Davian had something to do with the attack.”

“What else am I supposed to think?” Nathaniel shouted, his hands gripping the armrests of his wheelchair.

“They spoke like they knew him. Said he owed their boss money. Said he ran off to Switzerland to hide…”

“...Those men had fucking guns, Mom! They looked like drug dealers! Your boy toy has a history with people like that—and you brought him into this family.”

My chest tightened. My brow furrowed.

Was that why Davian came to me tonight, asking for more money? Was it to pay off what he owed their boss?

“There has to be a misunderstanding,” Melissa said, her voice quieter now, cracking slightly. “I’ve known Davian for years. He’s not someone who’d get involved with people like that.”

Nathaniel scoffed. “Well then, I wish you the best of luck finding him. Just don’t ever bring him back into this house.”

He spun his wheelchair sharply and wheeled himself out of the living room without another word.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

Melissa stood frozen, staring at the doorway he had disappeared through. Her lips parted, her hands trembling slightly.

I didn’t say anything—mostly because I had no idea what to say.

It was the first time I had ever seen them fight. Brutally. Honestly. Without restraint.

And despite everything that had happened tonight, I felt something I didn’t expect—satisfaction.

A small wedge had formed between them. And though it was all because of that bastard Davian, I couldn’t help but feel a twisted sort of gratitude.

Not toward him, but toward his unfortunate luck of being found by his very dangerous creditor.

One way or another, the damage was done.

And I would be the one to drive the wedge in deeper.

I cleared my throat and turned away, pretending to busy myself with the half-used antiseptic on the table. “I should check on him.”

Melissa didn’t respond.

I didn’t wait.

I left the living room quickly, letting her stand in that silence with her flustered face, probably wondering how everything had unraveled so fast.