Chapter 3

NATALIA POV

The days that followed passed in a blur of unease and restless dread. Every time the doorbell rang, every time my mother’s phone chimed, my heart leaped into my throat — half terrified it was Drakon, half… something else, something far more dangerous. He had not returned since that evening, yet his presence lingered in every corner of my home, in every quiet moment, in every breath I took. His warning echoed in my mind constantly: I will see you very soon. And I knew better than to doubt him.

My mother, meanwhile, radiated happiness. She spoke of Drakon at every meal, smiling softly, her eyes bright with hope and affection. “He is coming to dinner tomorrow, Natalia,” she told me one morning, her voice light and excited. “And he has someone he wants me to meet. Someone very important to him.”

I froze, my spoon clinking softly against the bowl. “Someone… important?”

“His son,” she said simply, beaming. “Drakon has an only child. He said he wants us to meet him properly — that he wants everyone in his life to know one another. Isn’t that wonderful? It means he sees a future with us, Natalia. Truly.”

My stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. Drakon had a son. Of course he did. I had never asked, never thought to wonder — and now, the realization settled heavy and cold in my chest. What would this son be like? Would he see through me the way his father did? Would he sense the terrible secret I carried, the forbidden moment that bound me to the man his mother loved?

The following evening arrived too quickly. I spent hours standing before my wardrobe, uncertain what to wear, feeling as though I were about to walk into a trap of my own making. Every choice felt wrong — too pretty, too plain, too much, too little. In the end, I settled on a modest dress and pulled my hair back neatly, trying to make myself as invisible as possible. If I could blend into the background, perhaps I could survive the evening without falling apart.

When the doorbell finally rang, my mother practically floated to answer it. I stayed back in the living room, gripping the edge of the sofa until my knuckles turned white, listening to the voices drift in from the hallway — my mother’s warm greeting, Drakon’s deep, calm reply, and then… a third voice.

Familiar. Too familiar.

My blood turned to ice.

I took one slow step forward, then another, until I stood in the archway leading to the hall. My breath caught in my throat, my heart stopped beating entirely, and the world seemed to tilt dangerously beneath my feet.

Standing beside Drakon — tall, handsome, looking exactly as he had the day he walked out of my life — was Marco.

My Marco. The man I had loved for three years. The man I had caught yesterday in the arms of another woman. The man who had shattered my heart into a thousand irreparable pieces.

And he was staring back at me with the same stunned, horrified expression I knew must be on my face.

“Natalia?” My mother’s voice pulled me slightly from my shock. “Come and meet Mr. Vance’s son. This is Marco.”

Marco. Marco is Drakon’s son.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. All the pieces fell into place in that terrible, dizzying instant — the money, the power, the name he had always been so proud of yet never fully explained, the way he had spoken of his father with a mixture of fear and reverence. He was Drakon’s heir. And he had never once told me.

Drakon’s gaze shifted slowly between us, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the way we stared at one another — pale, breathless, visibly shaken. A knowing glint appeared in his eyes, sharp and unreadable.

“Do you two know each other?” Drakon asked, his voice calm but carrying a quiet weight that made my knees tremble.

Marco found his voice first, though it came out rough and uneven. “We… yes. We know each other. Natalia and I… we were together. For a long time.”

My mother gasped softly, looking between us in surprise. “Oh! What a lovely coincidence! Isn’t it wonderful, Drakon? They already know one another!”

“Wonderful indeed,” Drakon murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. There was no surprise in his tone. Only something dark, satisfied, and terrifyingly certain. “It appears our lives are far more… intertwined… than any of us realized.”

Dinner that evening was a special kind of hell. We sat around the large dining table — my mother glowing happily at the head, completely oblivious to the tension thick enough to choke on; Marco sitting across from me, pale and silent, stealing glances when he thought no one was looking; and beside him… Drakon.

Drakon watched everything. He saw the way Marco avoided my eyes, the way my hands trembled whenever I reached for something, the way I could barely swallow a single bite. He sat tall and composed, occasionally speaking to my mother in that smooth, charming voice, while his gaze kept returning to me — heavy, searching, and full of questions I dared not answer.

“So,” Drakon said suddenly, cutting through the strained silence. He set his wine glass down slowly, his attention turning fully toward Marco. “You knew Natalia? And yet you never mentioned her to me?”

Marco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It… it was a long time ago, Father. Things change.”

“Do they?” Drakon’s tone was light, but his eyes were like flint. “And why did it end? If I may ask.”

Marco hesitated, his gaze flicking toward me for the briefest second before looking down at his plate. “It… it just did. We grew apart.”

“Grew apart,” Drakon repeated, as if tasting the words. His gaze shifted to me, sharp and piercing. “Is that what happened, Natalia?”

I gripped my napkin tightly in my lap. “Yes. We grew apart.”

“I see.” Drakon leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “And yet… I cannot help but wonder. If you were so important to my son… why have I never heard your name until this evening? Why was he so eager to walk away from someone who clearly still holds such an effect on him?”

The question hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Marco stiffened. “Father, please—”

“Let her speak,” Drakon commanded quietly, his eyes locked on mine. “Tell me, Natalia. Why did he leave you?”

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and stinging. I looked at Marco — at the man who had promised me everything, then betrayed me so cruelly — and found no regret in his face, only fear. Fear of his father. Fear of what he might say or do.

“He left,” I said, my voice trembling but steady, “because he found someone else. Someone more convenient. Someone who could give him what he wanted.”

My mother gasped. Marco’s face turned crimson. And Drakon… Drakon’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening visibly, his hands clenching into fists atop the table. A terrifying silence descended over the room.

“Is this true?” Drakon asked Marco, his voice low and dangerous. “Did you cast her aside for someone else?”

“Father, it was not that simple—”

“Answer me!” Drakon’s voice cracked like thunder, silencing everyone instantly.

Marco stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Yes! All right? Yes, I did. I thought she was… I thought she was beneath me. I thought I could do better. But seeing her now… seeing her here…” He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Natalia, I am sorry. Truly. I was a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”

I stared at him — at the man I had once given everything to — and felt nothing anymore. No love. No anger. Only a deep, aching pity.

“Forgiveness is not mine to give, Marco,” I said softly. “You made your choice. And I have learned to live with it.”

Drakon stood then, slowly and deliberately. He walked around the table until he stood beside Marco, placing a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. Marco flinched visibly.

“You made a grave mistake, son,” Drakon said, his voice calm but carrying a terrifying authority. “You do not know what you have done. You do not know what you have walked away from.” He turned his head slowly toward me, his dark eyes softening in a way that made my breath catch. “Some things… some people… are far too precious to be cast aside so carelessly.”

Marco looked between us, confused and unsettled by the intensity in his father’s tone. “Father… what do you mean?”

Drakon did not answer. He simply turned his gaze back to me, holding it for a long, charged moment — and in that look, I understood everything. He knew. He knew who Marco was to me. He knew what had happened between us. And somehow… he was not angry.

He was claiming me.

“I believe this evening is over,” Drakon announced, turning back to my mother with a gentle smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for your hospitality, Elena. We should take our leave.”

My mother, still visibly shaken but trusting as always, nodded. “Of course. Come back anytime, both of you.”

As they walked toward the door, Marco paused beside me, leaning in close. “Natalia… please. We need to talk. Properly. Alone.”

Before I could reply, Drakon stepped between us, towering over his son. “She has nothing left to say to you, Marco. Go to the car. Now.”

Marco looked as though he wanted to protest, but one sharp look from his father silenced him. He walked out the door, leaving us alone in the hallway.

Drakon turned to me then, his expression unreadable. He reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face with surprising tenderness.

“He hurt you,” Drakon said, more a statement than a question. “My own son. He hurt you.”

“I will be fine,” I whispered, pulling back slightly.

Drakon caught my wrist before I could turn away, his grip firm but not painful. He leaned down, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear.

“He does not deserve you, Natalia. He never did. And make no mistake… now that I know who you are… now that I know exactly who he threw away…” His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there with burning intent. “…I will not make the same mistake he did.”

He released my wrist and stepped back, his expression shifting instantly back to composure. “Goodnight, Natalia.”

And with one last look that promised everything and warned of danger, he walked out the door.

I stood there long after they had gone, my heart racing, my mind reeling. Marco was Drakon’s son. The man who had betrayed me was the flesh and blood of the man who had claimed me in the dark — the man who was now dating my mother.

And somewhere beneath the shock, the fear, and the impossible tangle of it all… one truth stood out clearly.

Drakon Vance was not letting me go. Not now. Not ever.

 

to be continue