Chapter 3: Unexpected Visitor

That Same Evening, Valencia & Cruz Law Firm

Natalia sat in her sleek corner office, its glass walls offering a panoramic view of the bustling streets below. She leaned over her laptop, the screen awash with open files and scanned documents. Legal briefs, financial records, internal memos—all evidence carefully gathered to tighten the noose around Damien Carrington and his precious Carrington Global.

Beside her sat a tall cup of rich, dark coffee, the faint aroma curling through the air. She absently sipped from it, her attention locked on the glowing screen as her fingers danced across the keyboard. The folders spread out across her desk were thick with evidence, each one a piece of the puzzle she was determined to solve.

Hours slipped by, the outside world dimming into evening shadows. Finally, Natalia exhaled a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. She rubbed her temples, feeling the strain of the long day settle in her shoulders. But she wasn’t finished yet.

With practiced efficiency, she began gathering the files, neatly arranging them into a leather-bound folder. She closed her laptop with a soft click, sliding it into her briefcase. Rising from her chair, she smoothed the wrinkles from her dark green sheath dress, then she slipped into her tailored trench coat.

She stepped out of her office, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor as she exited the law firm.

But as she emerged onto the street, she froze—there he was.

Jonathan.

He stood casually beside a gleaming Aston Martin, the metallic blue paint catching the last rays of sunlight.

Jonathan was strikingly handsome—tall, with broad shoulders that filled out his tailored navy suit. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned just enough at the collar to reveal a hint of tanned skin beneath. His dark hair was swept back in artful disarray, and his clean-shaven jawline was sharp and defined. His smile was easy, confident, and impossibly charming.

As soon as he saw her, he lifted a hand in a wave, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Natalia’s lips curved into a warm smile, the exhaustion of the day momentarily melting away. She crossed the pavement toward him, her heels tapping softly against the stone, until she was close enough to feel his familiar, comforting presence.

He opened his arms, and she stepped into them without hesitation. He embraced her, strong and reassuring, and she tilted her head up to press a light kiss to his lips.

When they parted, she chuckled softly and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Jonathan grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “I came to take you out for dinner. Remember? I promised.”

Natalia’s eyes widened slightly in realization, and she gave a soft, rueful laugh. “Oh, I completely forgot. I got so wrapped up in work…”

“I knew you would,” he teased gently, his voice low and teasing as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s why I’m here to rescue you from yourself.”

With a flourish, he opened the passenger door of the Aston Martin and gestured gallantly. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

Natalia laughed, her cheeks flushed with color as she slipped into the luxurious interior of the car. The leather seat molded perfectly to her form, the faint scent of Jonathan’s cologne mingling with the rich aroma of the car’s interior.

As he closed the door behind her and circled around to the driver’s side, Natalia’s heart gave a flutter—not from the case, not from her war with Damien, but from something infinitely simpler: a rare, stolen moment of happiness.

The engine purred softly as Jonathan guided the car through the city streets, the evening lights casting shimmering reflections on the windshield. Natalia sat beside him, her briefcase resting by her feet, though she was finally allowing herself to relax into the plush leather seat.

They drove in comfortable silence for a few moments, the quiet only broken by the faint hum of the car and the soft jazz playing from the speakers. Jonathan glanced over at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You look like you needed this,” he said quietly, one hand resting on the gear shift while the other casually brushed her knuckles.

Natalia gave a small sigh, leaning her head against the headrest. “I did. It’s been a brutal week. The case against Carrington Global…it’s taking everything I’ve got.”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he kept his tone light. “You’re doing what you have to do. Damien’s company is corrupt, and he’s hurt too many people. You’re standing up for justice. That’s… well, that’s why I fell in love with you.”

Natalia turned to him, her lips parting in surprise, but he was already giving her a crooked smile, his gaze soft.

“I mean it,” he added, his voice low. “You’re brilliant, driven, and fearless. And you don’t let anyone—especially someone like Damien Carrington—push you around.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, but the weight of the case pulled her back. She glanced down at her hands, fingers twisting lightly. “I know, but it’s more complicated than that. There’s so much at stake—my firm’s reputation, my career, and…”

Jonathan glanced sideways, sensing the hesitation. “And?”

Natalia hesitated, her thoughts drifting to Camila. To the secret she’d carried alone for so long. But she pushed it down—this wasn’t the time. “And... if Damien wins, it could destroy lives, not just mine. I won’t let that happen.”

Jonathan gave her a reassuring squeeze on the hand. “You won’t. You’re stronger than him. And I’m here for you, every step of the way.”

They pulled up to a discreet, upscale restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Jonathan stepped out first, walking around the car to open her door with a flourish.

As she stepped out, Natalia allowed herself a rare smile. “You always know how to make an entrance,” she teased.

Jonathan offered his arm with a playful grin. “And I always plan to make you forget your worries—at least for one evening.”

With their fingers intertwined, they both walked inside the restaurant. The interior was softly lit, intimate, with the muted glow of candles flickering on the tables. Jonathan led her to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where the hum of quiet conversation faded into the background.

As they settled into their seats, Natalia finally let out a long breath, sinking into the velvet cushion. The waiter arrived, offering menus and taking their drink orders—Jonathan ordering a bottle of vintage red wine and Natalia opting for a sparkling water with lemon.

“So,” Jonathan said once they were alone, swirling his glass lightly, “tell me—where do things stand with the case? How close are you to bringing Damien down?”

Natalia hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass. “Closer than ever. I’ve gathered enough evidence to weaken Carrington Global’s legal standing. Financial irregularities, labor violations, even links to overseas shell corporations. It’s all there, but I need one last, undeniable piece of proof—something that will make the whole house of cards come crashing down.”

Jonathan leaned forward, his eyes darkening slightly. “And what’s that last piece?”

Natalia’s jaw tightened. “Damien’s private dealings. The ones he thinks are hidden.”

A brief silence fell over for some seconds.

“You look stunning tonight,” he murmured, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the restaurant.

Natalia’s cheeks warmed. “You’re just saying that.”

He shook his head, his eyes locked on hers. “I mean it. You’re brilliant, beautiful, and so damn stubborn—but that’s part of your charm.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Jonathan. Those words mean a lot to me.”

Their conversation flowed easily as the courses arrived—delicate plates of lobster risotto, truffle-infused pasta, and perfectly seared filet mignon.

Jonathan cleared his throat softly, setting down his wine glass as his gaze settled on Natalia. His voice lowered, cautious but curious.

“So,” he began, “what about Camila? Does she know about her father?”

Natalia’s hand paused mid-reach for her fork. She exhaled a slow, weary sigh, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “She figured it out,” she admitted quietly, her eyes dropping to the table. “Camila found Damien’s picture. She put the pieces together herself.”

Jonathan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. “She’s as smart as her mother,” he teased lightly.

A faint, genuine smile tugged at Natalia’s lips despite the heaviness in her chest.

Jonathan leaned forward, his elbows resting lightly on the table. “So… do you think she’ll want to meet him? Would you let her?”

Natalia’s smile faltered, replaced by a softer, more guarded expression. She scoffed softly, shaking her head. “I don’t think Camila would be interested. She’s lived ten years without Damien, and she’s perfectly fine. I doubt she’d be eager to meet the man who abandoned her before she was even born.”

Jonathan chuckled quietly, his voice warm with understanding. “That’s what you think,” he murmured, tapping a finger gently against the stem of his glass. “Children are mysterious, Natalia. Sometimes we think we know what they want, but the truth is… they often surprise us. Their hearts can be more forgiving than we give them credit for.”

Natalia let out a soft laugh, her tone tinged with playful challenge. “Oh? And when did you become a child psychologist, Mr. Hartley?”

Jonathan grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Since I started dating a brilliant, overworked attorney with a penchant for trouble,” he teased, earning another soft laugh from her.

Their laughter mingled softly with the ambient hum of the restaurant. They continued eating, the mood lighter now despite the weighty conversation. The wine flowed, the plates were cleared, and thirty minutes later, they found themselves leaning back in their chairs, fully satisfied from the meal.

Jonathan signaled for the check, signing it swiftly and slipping his black credit card back into his wallet. He stood and offered his hand to Natalia, helping her to her feet with a charming smile.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home.”

They strolled through the quiet restaurant, their steps unhurried as they descended to the ground floor. The city night welcomed them with a cool breeze as they exited onto the sidewalk.

His Aston Martin gleamed under the streetlights, sleek and waiting. Jonathan opened the passenger door for her, his chivalry never failing to make her smile.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly as she slid into the seat.

He closed the door with a quiet click, circling around to the driver’s side. Moments later, the car purred to life, and they eased into the flow of traffic, heading back toward Queens.

As the city lights blurred past them, Natalia found herself gazing out the window, her mind spinning with thoughts of Damien, Camila, and the life she’d carefully kept hidden for so long.

After driving for thirty minutes through the city streets and into the quieter neighborhoods of Queens, Jonathan finally turned onto the familiar tree-lined road where Natalia’s mother lived. The sky was darkening into a deep indigo, the last hues of sunset fading into night. He pulled up smoothly in front of Teresa Cruz’s modest yet well-kept home and cut the engine, the quiet hum of the car falling silent.

Natalia turned to face him, her expression soft. “Come in,” she invited warmly.

Jonathan hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “I don’t know,” he said with a small, uncertain smile. “Your mother doesn’t really like me that much. I get the feeling she doesn’t exactly approve of me dating her beautiful and independent daughter.”

Natalia sighed, her hand coming to rest gently on his. “Jonathan,” she said, her voice patient, “we’ve gone over this so many times. My mother does like you. She just… doesn’t always show it. You know, because of everything that happened with Damien ten years ago. She’s protective, but trust me—she approves of you.”

He let out a long breath, nodding slowly. “Alright,” he relented, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Natalia’s smile brightened. “Good,” she said softly. They both got out of the car, closing the doors behind them with soft clicks.

As they walked up the path to the house, the faint sound of Camila’s laughter spilled through the slightly open window. Natalia’s steps slowed, her heart warming at the sound of her daughter’s laughter.

“She seems happy tonight,” Jonathan remarked, his voice gentle.

Natalia smiled, a flicker of contentment passing over her face. “Abuela must have prepared her favorite,” she said with a quiet laugh.

They reached the door, and Natalia pushed it open, stepping inside. But the smile on her face froze the moment she turned into the dining room.

There, sitting comfortably at the table, was Damien. He was dressed impeccably as always—dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, his jacket draped over the chair. His expression was unusually soft, almost tender, as he leaned slightly forward, a spoon in hand, feeding Camila, who sat across from him giggling.

Camila, laughing happily, accepted the spoonful without hesitation, completely at ease in the presence of the man who was her father.

Natalia froze in the doorway, her heart tightening in her chest. Jonathan, sensing the sudden change in atmosphere, glanced at her sharply before following her gaze. His jaw tensed as he took in the sight.

Natalia’s voice, when it finally came, was low and laced with quiet disbelief. “Damien…”