Ch-8

•~•Solane’s POV

The restaurant was nothing short of extravagant—polished marble floors, dim golden lights, and a panoramic view of Paris stretching beyond the glass walls.

The kind of place where a single meal probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

A soft-spoken waiter in a crisp black suit set down our plates with practiced elegance, announcing each dish with a refined French accent.

Smoked salmon with caviar, truffle-infused eggs Benedict, fresh croissants with imported butter—Melissa Grant had spared no expense.

I pursed my lips, glancing around. How the hell was she still able to arrange something this high-end?

Last I heard, the Grants’ business was struggling. Their stocks had taken a hit, their reputation was under scrutiny, and yet, here we were, dining like European royalty.

Just how much of the Grants’ struggles were real? And how much was hidden beneath their carefully crafted image?

Whatever the truth was, I would find it.

And when I did, I’d make sure the whole world knew.

I turned to Nathaniel, watching as he sat stiffly across from me. He hadn’t said a word since the drive here.

Not when we arrived, not when we settled in. His cold expression barely shifted as he idly tapped his fork against his plate.

I couldn’t tell if he was still mad about what I said back at the hotel suite or just pretending to be, hoping I’d believe that seeing him stand on the balcony last night was nothing but a dream.

My gaze drifted down his body. For someone who supposedly couldn’t walk, he was well built.

Broad shoulders, strong chest, lean arms. Even his legs… They didn’t look weak or withered.

But then again, just because someone couldn’t walk didn’t mean they couldn’t work out. Right?

I exhaled sharply, my hand balling into a fist under the table.

Fuck.

Ah… this was driving me crazy.

If only there were an easy way to know for sure—could he walk or not?

“If you keep staring at me like that, your neck’s going to hurt even more.”

His voice was calm, and only then did I realize—I had been massaging the side of my neck the entire time.

I blinked, my fingers freezing.

Right… for some reason, the side of my neck hurt. Probably because I slept in a bad position.

I let out a nervous chuckle. “I guess I was just thinking about how quiet you’ve been,” I muttered, lowering my hand and forcing a smile.

“…I assume your mother set all this up so we could ‘bond,’ but you’re not exactly making it easy. Are you still mad about what I said earlier at the hotel suite?”

Nathaniel finally turned to me, a small smile stretching across his lips.

“Would you like a massage when we get back to the hotel? Your neck really seems to hurt.” His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s the least I can do, considering… I can’t walk,” he added.

My jaw clenched. Yup…This asshole is definitely still mad.

I snickered, shaking my head. “You could’ve just said you’re still mad at me.”

He simply rolled his eyes and picked up his utensils. “Eat while the food is still hot.”

I huffed. Stubborn as ever.

I exhaled, picking up my fork. But just as he was about to take a bite, an idea sparked in my mind. Without thinking, I reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

I held his gaze. “Let’s not fight.”

His brow lifted higher.

“We’re newlyweds,” I continued. “Holding grudges this early is bad luck.” I tilted my head slightly, lowering my voice. “Stop being mad. Just forgive me already.”

Nathaniel studied me for a moment before sighing. “I already did.”

I smirked. “Liar.”

His lips twitched. “And how are you so sure I’m lying?”

I leaned back, resting my elbow on the table. “Fine. If you’re not mad, then feed me.”

His brow furrowed. “Feed you?”

I nodded.

Nathaniel glanced around before looking back at me. “Solane, we’re in public.”

I shrugged. “And? We’re in Paris. The city of love.” I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. “Besides, we’re newly married. Anyone who finds it weird can go fuck themselves.”

For a moment, he just looked at me, like he was debating whether to argue. Then, reluctantly, he scooped up a bite of his eggs Benedict and lifted the fork toward me.

As I leaned in, I subtly shifted my elbow, causing his cup of hot tea to topple over.

The liquid spilled straight onto his lap.

Nathaniel jerked back with a sharp inhale, his entire body going rigid.

"Fuck!" He hissed, his hands flying to his lap.

Now it was time to act all apologetic—I gasped. "Oh my God, I’m so sorry!" I scrambled for a napkin and quickly bent down, dabbing at his pants.

His breath hitched sharply, and he let out a low, pained groan.

Pain.

Wait a minute.

My hands froze midair.

Why would he feel pain if he was—

“Wait… How come it hurts?” My voice was breathless. “You’re not supposed to feel the burn if you can’t walk…”

My heart leaped with victory. Did I just confirm my suspicions?

Nathaniel’s gaze snapped to mine, his jaw tight.

“My penis, Solane,” he gritted out.

I frowned, confused. What did his penis have to do with any of this?

“I can feel my penis…” He continued, “The tea—it…” He trailed off, grimacing in pain.

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.

In a rush of stammered words, I blurted, “Oh—oh God—I—your—your penis is—oh my God—”

Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh God… I think I’m going to go impotent.”

I swallowed hard. “I think—I think we should go to the hospital.” My words spilled out quickly. “Right now. We need to save your penis.”

Nathaniel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine. No need to be dramatic. I’ll live.” He grimaced in pain, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“I mean it,” I cut in. “Your mother went through the trouble of getting us a private dining experience, and I just scalded her precious son’s… penis.” My voice dropped to a whisper.

I waved over a nearby waiter, keeping my voice calm. “Please have a car ready for us.”

Within minutes, we were in a sleek black car, speeding toward a private hospital. Nathaniel sat beside me, arms crossed, his face betraying no emotion.

I tapped my fingers against my knee, sneaking a glance at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m debating whether to throw myself out of this moving car,” he muttered.

I scowled. “Excuse me for caring about your penis getting scalded.”

His gaze flickered to me, something unreadable in his eyes. “Do you really care?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Of course I do. What kind of person do you think I am?”

Nathaniel’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t answer.

The car pulled up to a large private hospital, and within minutes, a doctor was examining him in a private room.

I paced outside, chewing on my lip.

The door finally swung open, and the doctor stepped out.

“How is he, doctor?” I asked.

“He’s fine… Just a minor burn. He can be discharged in a few hours, if you want.” The doctor said before walking away.

I then walked into the ward to meet Nathaniel’s unimpressed face.

He sighed exasperatedly. “The doctor said I’ll live, and I still have full function of my very important body part.”

I let out a long breath. “Thank God.”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “You sound relieved.”

I shot him a glare. “Shouldn’t I? I don’t want to be the woman responsible for—” I cleared my throat, stopping myself. “You know what?...It doesn’t matter anymore since you're fine.”

I sat beside Nathaniel’s hospital bed, arms crossed, watching as he smirked at me.

Ah... This bastard. He almost lost his dick and he’s still able to smirk. You wait, when I'm done with you and your mother, you won’t even be able to frown or cry.

“I told you I’d live.”

I exhaled sharply. “I know, I was just being cautious.”

His smirk widened. “Cautious?” He let out a short laugh. “You got me admitted like I was on the verge of death.”

I ignored him, leaning back a bit. “Can I ask you something?”

His amusement dimmed slightly. “Go on.”

I hesitated, then decided to just say it. “How is it possible that you can feel your… you know… penis when you can't walk?”

Nathaniel blinked. Then, slowly, his lips curved again.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not asking because of our talk this morning at the hotel. I’m just genuinely curious. I mean, what I was told was that you were paralyzed from the waist down. But we had sex... and now this? I'm still a little surprised.”

Nathaniel tilted his head, studying me for a moment. Then he exhaled.

“That’s the common misconception people have about people like me... By the way it’s called incomplete paraplegia,” he said finally.

“Not all paralysis is the same. Some people lose all sensation; some don’t. I have some nerve function below my waist. That includes… well, my penis.”

I flushed slightly but nodded. “But you don't feel any sensation in your legs?”

“No,” he admitted. “Unfortunately.”

I didn’t know what to make of that. I still felt like something was off, but I let it go…For now.

Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. Dad.

I frowned. “I need to take this.”

Nathaniel simply nodded.

I stepped outside and made my way to the hospital’s rooftop, where I answered the call.

“Dad?”

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“What’s the update?” My father’s voice came through, low and firm.

I exhaled. “I’m still not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

I rubbed my temple. “I spilled hot tea on him, and he reacted. I mean, he wasn’t supposed to if he couldn't walk, but he said something about incomplete paraplegia…”

There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then Dad spoke. “And you believe him?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know.”

My father let out a slow breath. “It's okay... Just relax and let me handle everything from here, okay sweetheart?”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay.”

The call ended, and I took a moment to compose myself before heading back down.

But when I stepped inside, Nathaniel wasn’t there.

His wheelchair sat abandoned in the corner.

I spun around, nearly colliding with a nurse who was just entering.

“Where’s my husband?” I demanded.

The nurse blinked. “Is he not in?”

“No, he’s not.” My voice rose. “I just went out to take a call, and when I came back… he’s gone.”

The nurse gave me an uncertain look before stepping inside.

She gasped. “But… his wheelchair is still here.”

I clenched my fists. “Exactly... So tell me, how can a man who can't walk leave his hospital ward without his wheelchair?”

The nurse’s face paled. “I—I’ll inform the doctor immediately.”

Then she turned and rushed down the hall, leaving me standing there.