9

Nathaniel gazed at her face, his eyes filled with a hard-to-define mixture of irritation, concern, and possession.

“Your body may be fragile,” he muttered slowly, almost to himself. “But your heart is stubborn. And that is why I won’t let you break.”

Tightening his arms, he lifted her in a bridal carry. The evening breeze swept over them, but Nathaniel paid it no mind.

Leaving the bridge behind while carrying the sleeping Madeline in his arms, it felt as though she had finally surrendered herself, at least for now, to the only man willing to defy the world alongside her.

Nathaniel’s steps were steady as he walked down the quiet pavement beside the bridge. The streetlights reflected across his face, emphasizing the sharp lines usually so cold. Yet now, there was something different in his gaze—something faint, a feeling he rarely revealed to anyone.

Madeline looked fragile in his arms. Her hair spilled in disarray, her pale face resting against his chest, her breathing still uneven. Nathaniel glanced down at her briefly, exhaling softly.

“Even in sleep, you defy me,” he murmured under his breath. “Do you realize how stubborn you are?”

He headed toward the black car parked not far away. Thomas, who had been waiting in the driver’s seat, quickly opened the rear door when he saw his master approaching.

“Sir,” Thomas froze for a moment upon seeing Madeline in Nathaniel’s arms. “Is she alright?”

Nathaniel gave him only a fleeting glance, his voice firm yet calm. “She’s merely exhausted. Take us home.”

Thomas nodded without further question and immediately started the engine. Nathaniel slid into the car with Madeline still in his arms. Rather than setting her down on the seat, he kept her in his lap, as though determined not to let her go even for a moment.

Throughout the ride, Nathaniel never took his eyes off her face. Tension pressed at his lips, as though he were waging war with himself.

“I should have let you fall,” he whispered, almost like a confession. “I should have stayed indifferent. But somehow I couldn’t.”

Madeline stirred faintly, her eyelids fluttering before finally opening just a little. Her vision was blurry, but soon she caught sight of the man watching her so closely. Her heart pounded wildly, caught between consciousness and dream.

“N-Nathaniel?” her voice was weak, barely a whisper.

Nathaniel lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. “You’re finally awake.”

Madeline tried to move, only then realizing she was still cradled in his arms. Her face flushed red, her eyes widened. “Let me go!” she whispered, though her strength was too feeble to push him away.

Nathaniel did not budge. “If I let you go, you’ll only hurt yourself again.”

Madeline bit her lip, heat rising from both anger and shame. “I don’t need you to save me,” her voice shook, her eyes glistening.

“Really?” Nathaniel countered, his tone low, challenging. “If not me, then who else was there when you were about to destroy yourself?”

Madeline’s breath hitched, unable to answer. Her chest heaved, her lashes trembled against the tears she held back. His words cut deep, because she knew too well the loneliness that had consumed her life lately.

Nathaniel’s voice dropped, nearly a whisper. “I won’t let you run from reality, Madeline. Whether you like it or not, starting tonight you’re under my watch.”

Madeline shut her eyes tightly, as if to deny that truth. Yet her weakened body couldn’t resist. And in the silence of the car driving beneath the glow of streetlights, the two of them sank into a different kind of tension, between defiance and possession, binding them slowly in ways neither could escape.

*** 

The dim glow of the bedside lamp seeped through Madeline’s eyelids. Slowly, she opened her eyes, feeling the chill of the air mingling with the softness of the blanket wrapped around her body.

For a moment, she was disoriented. This was clearly not her uncle’s house. The room was far too luxurious to be a simple lodging, elegant gray-toned walls, long draping curtains, and a faint scent of cinnamon blended with a distinctly masculine aftershave.

Madeline immediately pushed herself up, but her body was still weak. Her hand tried to pull the blanket away, only to freeze when a deep, calm, yet commanding voice echoed from the corner of the room.

“You’re awake.”

Madeline’s head snapped toward the sound. Nathaniel stood leaning against the wall, still in his dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His gaze was sharp, though there was a faint softness he tried to conceal.

“Nathaniel,” Madeline’s voice was hoarse, laced with confusion. “W-where am I?”

“My house,” he replied curtly, yet firmly. He stepped forward, stopping at the bedside and lowering himself slightly to her level. “You fainted on the bridge. Did you really think I’d leave you lying there?”

Madeline clenched her jaw, embarrassment and anger mixing in her chest. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. I could’ve gone back on my own—”

Nathaniel let out a cold chuckle, his smile tilting in mocking amusement. “Back? You could barely stand without collapsing. Don’t be stubborn, Madeline.”

She fell silent. Her body was indeed still frail, her head pounding, her throat parched. She lowered her gaze, trying to hide her vulnerability.

Nathaniel pulled a chair from the corner and sat by the bed, his eyes never straying from her. That stare was relentless, as though it sought to pierce through the layers of defense she had so carefully built.

Madeline wrapped her arms around herself, tugging the blanket up over her shoulders. She wanted to appear strong, but her weakened body made every gesture futile. Occasionally, she stole glances his way, and each time their eyes nearly met, she quickly looked away.

The room was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the wall clock. The scent of wood and Nathaniel’s faint cologne filled the air, pressing Madeline deeper into unease.

Finally, Nathaniel spoke, his voice low, steady, yet carrying an undertone—something almost resembling concern. “You can hate me all you want. But the fact remains: without me, tonight you might have already…” He stopped short, as if restraining himself from uttering a word too grave.

Madeline bit her lower lip. “I didn’t ask you to save me,” she whispered, though her voice trembled.

Nathaniel leaned back in the chair, intertwining his fingers in his lap. “No. But I would have done it anyway.” He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “Because whether you deny it or not, I know you need someone by your side. You can’t keep lying to yourself.”

Madeline frowned, her heart waging a fierce battle. His words cut deep, because behind her resistance lay an undeniable truth. The loneliness had eaten away at her, leaving her fragile. Yet accepting Nathaniel’s help felt like surrendering control over her life.

She exhaled, long and heavy. “You only want to bind me with that ridiculous offer, don’t you? A contract marriage. All of this it’s just your way of forcing me.”

Nathaniel’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that made Madeline’s heart race even as she despised it. “If I truly wanted to force you, do you think you’d still have the choice to refuse?” His tone was cold, yet his eyes held something deeper, something Madeline couldn’t fully decipher.

Silence fell once more. Madeline clutched the blanket tightly, trying to summon courage amid her fear and confusion. Her body trembled, not only from weakness, but from something else entirely, an unfamiliar feeling that al

ways surfaced whenever Nathaniel was too close.