Chapter 9–A Bounty On Him

Natasha’s POV.

I had not planned to go jogging this morning.

But sleep had come in fragments. My mind was restless.

By the time the sun began to rise, I threw on my activewear and headed out.

The air outside was cool. I adjusted the earbuds in my ears, letting the music push against the chaos in my head as I started jogging.

Ananya’s Indian playlist filled my ears. She had sent it when I was grieving Lucas. I never really listened to the lyrics. I couldn’t understand them, but I kept it on because I didn’t want to upset her.

My pace was steady, my breathing controlled. Each step grounded me.

After a while, I stopped by the side of the road, stretched, then started again.

This time something felt different.

My eyes flicked ahead, then to the side. I glanced behind me. No one.

I shrugged it off and kept running.

Then I noticed a figure. Not too close. Not too far.

It was a public space. People were allowed to be there. Still, it felt wrong.

I slowed just enough to fall into step beside another jogger and offered her a quick smile.

After a moment, the figure was gone.

I stayed with the woman a little longer before turning back toward home. No one followed. Relief hit me as I reached the house.

I’d barely stepped inside my room when my phone rang. I glanced at the screen.

Tristan.

Does this man ever sleep?

I answered the call. 

“What is it this time?”

“Easy, tigress.” He chuckled. “I’m calling you because my grandmother wants to see you.”

I blinked once. “Uhh… that’s sudden.”

“She insists on seeing the woman I'm getting married to,” he said.

There were a dozen reasons to say no. I hadn’t even processed the decision I made about a week ago. Meeting his family—his grandmother… felt like stepping into something far more real than I bargained for.

My grip on the phone loosened slightly.

“Fine,” I said after a moment. “I’ll see her.”

“Good.”

“Send me the addr—”

“There’s no need for that,” he cut in smoothly. “A car is already waiting for you.”

I paused.

“…Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I frowned, instinctively moving toward the window. 

A sleek black BMW was outside, waiting.

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You sent a car before I even agreed?”

“I love to take my chances,” he replied.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Another name? Wow,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, Natasha.”

The call ended.

I stared at the phone for a second before lowering it.

It didn’t take long for me to get ready. I chose something simple but elegant.

This was just a visit, not some fashion show. 

I stepped out of the house and into the waiting car. I couldn’t ignore the quiet shift that settled in my chest.

The drive was calm.

The car pulled into an exclusive, controlled environment.

I found myself staring at the estate before me, expansive and commanding without even trying.

The car came to a stop in front of a mansion.

I climbed out of the car, taking in the details without letting it be obvious. I walked toward the entrance. The door opened as soon as I stepped onto the porch.

“Welcome, ma’am.”

“Hi! Thank you,” I replied with a smile.

The inside was more than I expected.

Minimal, but elegant. Intentional. Nothing out of place.

My eyes moved across the space as I stepped further in.

The floors were polished, cool and smooth beneath my heels, stretching into a living area. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one side.

Muted tones dominated the space—beige, charcoal, hints of deep wood. Every color chosen, not accidental. Even the air felt curated. Clean, faintly scented.

I studied interior design, so it wasn’t hard to tell.

My eyes moved over the details until they settled on a picture mounted on the far wall. A woman looked elegant, young, and she shared a striking resemblance to Tristan. Could that be his mother?

“You must be Natasha.”

The voice was warm, gentle. I turned toward it. My gaze fell on the woman first.

Older. Graceful. Fragile, but not weak.

She stood beside Tristan, her hand resting lightly in his as if it had always belonged there. There was something about the way he held her—careful. A side of him I had never seen beyond the cocky, provocative façade he put on.

Behind them stood another woman, younger. That must be his sister?

For a moment, I just stood there, not knowing what to say.

This version of Tristan felt… different. Softer.

It was strange seeing him like this. The man I’d met was cocky, controlled, and impossible to read. 

“Abuela,” Tristan called softly. “This is Natasha. Natasha, this is my grandmother.” He paused, then turned to the woman behind him. “…and this is my sister, Patricia.”

Their faces lit up.

“Hello, Natasha,” Patricia said with so much enthusiasm.

“Hello, Patricia. Nice to meet you.”

“So you’re the business partner, hm?” his grandmother said.

Business partner? I frowned, my gaze shifting to Tristan. So that’s what I was to him too? A business? Hell no. 

I opened my mouth to say something, but Tristan beat me to it.

“Abuela,” Tristan said firmly.

She let out a soft laugh. “What? That’s what you called her, no?”

“Yeah, I realized how wrong it sounded,” he replied quietly.

Patricia smiled, clearly enjoying the moment.

Then his grandmother stepped forward, composing herself. “Forgive me, dear.”

“Good morning, ma’am,” I said respectfully.

Her smile widened. “Oh, please. Call me Adelina. Come here.”

Before I could react, she reached for my hand.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” she added.

I gave a faint smile. “Nice to meet you, ma— Adelina.”

“I have something to take care of,” Tristan said, his gaze briefly meeting mine. “I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

“So,” Adelina began, gesturing toward the couch. “How did you two meet?”

I hesitated just for a second. I didn’t know what Tristan had told her, because for all I knew, I was a business partner.

“It wasn’t anything special,” I said smoothly. “Our companies crossed paths, and we were introduced.”

That was an easy lie.

Adelina studied me for a moment, then nodded once.

“I see.”

Patricia said nothing. She was just smiling, looking between me and her phone. 

Weird if you ask me.

“He mentioned you’re a Whitmore,” Adelina continued. “Do you happen to know Susan Whitmore?”

“That’s my grandmother,” I replied with a frown.

Adelina’s expression shifted to something softer. “I thought so.”

“You knew her?” I asked.

“She was an old friend.” Adelina's gaze drifted. “May God rest her soul. Your grandmother, Susan, was so full of life. The kind of woman who lit up every room she was in without even trying.”

Suddenly, my thoughts spiraled. Could that be the reason why Tristan wanted me?

He had told me his grandmother wanted him to be married, but could he have chosen me because of the past connection?

Adelina’s voice cut through my thoughts, asking me questions.

What I liked. Where I’d been.

And for a moment, it was comforting. This was the closest conversation I've had with a mother figure.

Time passed. I didn’t know how much.

“I should speak with Tristan,” I said after a while. “He mentioned some documents.”

“Ah,” Adelina nodded once. “Of course.”

Patricia stood. “I’ll take you.”

I followed her. 

We climbed up the spiral stairs and stopped in front of a door.

“That’s his study,” Patricia said.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Patricia smiled back before turning away.

The door was slightly open. As I was about to knock, I heard voices.

I shouldn’t be listening in on the conversation, but I didn’t move.

“…you said nothing about the extent of his involvement,” a voice said.

Tristan’s response was calm. “I wasn’t aware of anything at the time.”

“That’s not the point,” the voice replied. “Marcus Whitmore approached you to stabilize his company. Not drag you into something like this.”

I gripped the handle tightly.

Something like what?

There was a brief silence inside.

“There’s a bounty on him now,” the voice continued. “And not just him. His family too.”

The words landed heavily.

Panic surged into my chest.

“That complicates things,” Tristan said.

“Complicate things?” Daniel scoffed. “They are already moving. It’s only a matter of time before they make an attempt.”

My mind flashed to the figure from this morning. Everything clicked into place.

“And he didn’t think to tell me,” Tristan said, voice rising with anger. “About the deals. About who he owed. Did he think I wasn’t going to find out?”

I stepped back slowly and walked away before I could hear more.

By the time I reached the living area, Adelina and Patricia looked up.

“You’re back already?” Patricia frowned.

I nodded once. “I have to leave.”

Adelina’s brows pulled together. “So soon?”

“Something came up.”

Patricia studied me more closely this time. “You’re sure everything is okay?”

I forced a small smile. “Yes. I’ll see you another time.”

Adelina nodded with a smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.”

Without another word, I walked out of the house, exhaling sharply.

I pulled out my phone to book a ride.

“Miss Whitmore.”

I lifted my head. It was the driver who brought me here.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked.

“Yes, please. Take me to Whitmore Industries.”

What has my father done?

The driver settled behind the wheel. I climbed into the backseat.

After what felt like eternity, the car pulled into the garage at Whitmore Industries. I stepped out, slamming the door harder than intended.

I walked into the lobby, then the elevator. Stormed into my father’s office, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s my father?” I asked Anita.

“He’s in a meeting in the boardroom.”

I didn’t waste a second. 

A boardroom meeting? He better come up with something to deal with whatever mess he brought upon himself. 

“Ma’am, you can’t—”

I pushed the door to the boardroom open.

“Wow, Marcus. Wow! I must admit, you really are something,” I said as I clapped my hands together.

The room fell into an awkward silence.

“That’d be all for now,” he said.

They all stood and left the room, except Victoria.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Natasha?” Victoria’s voice rose.

“I’m not talking to you!” I snapped at her. “In fact… get the fuck out!”

“And if I don’t?” she fired back.

I exhaled slowly. “Victoria, I won’t repeat myself.”

She moved to close the distance between us.

“You come in here, throwing tantrums, and you’re asking me to leave? Do your worst, sister. I'm not going anywhere."

That’s it. That was all it took. Whatever restraint I’d been holding back dissolved into nothing.

I surged forward, fisting my hand into her hair and yanking hard, dragging her out of the boardroom before she could even steady herself. I locked the door behind me. 

“Back to you, Marcus.”