Chapter Twenty-One: Shelter Made of Secrets

They didn’t take the main roads.

Nathaniel drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Iris’s thigh like an anchor, his eyes sharp and alert as the city thinned into quiet stretches of darkness. Streetlights flashed over his face, revealing tension carved deep into his jaw.

Iris stared out the window, her heart still racing.

“You didn’t answer me,” she said softly. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere my name still holds weight,” he replied. “And where Selena’s reach ends.”

“That doesn’t exist,” Iris whispered.

Nathaniel’s mouth curved in something that wasn’t a smile. “It does. She just hopes you never learn about it.”

They drove for over an hour before turning off the highway onto a private road flanked by tall iron gates. Security cameras followed their approach. The gates opened silently.

Iris’s breath caught.

The house that emerged from the darkness wasn’t just large. It was old. Solid. The kind of place built to endure wars, scandals, and bloodlines.

“This is…” she trailed off.

“My family estate,” Nathaniel said. “I avoid it for a reason.”

The doors shut behind them with a finality that made Iris’s skin prickle.

Inside, the air was warm and still. No staff. No lights on except a single lamp in the foyer. Nathaniel locked the door, then another, then activated a security system with practiced ease.

“You’ve been here recently,” Iris noted.

“I keep it ready,” he replied. “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. “Just in case I ever needed to disappear.”

That should have scared her.

Instead, it made her ache.

The silence inside the house pressed in on them.

Now that adrenaline had faded, everything felt louder. Her breathing. His. The way his hand still hovered at her waist as if he didn’t trust the world not to steal her away.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Iris murmured.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. “You’re safer here than anywhere else.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

They stood too close. The kind of closeness that made thoughts blur and bodies react before permission was given. Iris felt it when his gaze dropped to her lips. Felt it when his breath hitched.

“I meant every word I said back there,” he continued. “About not letting you do this alone.”

“And what if I don’t want you to?” she asked, voice barely steady. “What if I don’t want to ruin you?”

Nathaniel stepped closer. “You don’t ruin me.”

His hand came up, brushing her cheek. Slow. Reverent. Like he was reminding himself she was real.

“You remind me who I am,” he said softly. “That’s why they’re afraid.”

Her pulse thundered. “Nathaniel…”

He leaned down, stopping just short of her mouth. “Tell me to stop.”

She didn’t.

His kiss wasn’t rushed. It was controlled, intense, filled with restraint that only made it burn hotter. Iris melted into him, fingers clutching his shirt as the world narrowed to the feel of him, the sound of his breath breaking.

His hand slid to her lower back, pulling her flush against him. She gasped softly, feeling the unmistakable heat between them, the tension that had been building for weeks finally demanding release.

He groaned low in his throat and pulled away abruptly, forehead resting against hers.

“This is how we lose control,” he said hoarsely.

She nodded, shaking. “I know.”

But neither of them stepped back.

Instead, he took her hand and led her upstairs.

“Sleep,” he said firmly once they reached a guest room. “You need rest.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I’ll be close.”

She hesitated. “Nathaniel… don’t shut me out now.”

Something in his expression shifted.

He nodded once. “Then stay.”

Morning came too soon.

Iris woke wrapped in warmth, her back pressed against Nathaniel’s chest, his arm heavy over her waist. The intimacy of it stole her breath. This wasn’t hurried or forbidden. This was dangerous in a quieter way.

Real.

She shifted slightly and felt him stir.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

“Yes.”

He tightened his arm instinctively. “Good.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Iris asked, “Why does Selena have so much power over you?”

Nathaniel went still.

“You don’t have to”

“I want to know,” she said gently. “If I’m here, I deserve the truth.”

He exhaled slowly. “My family built the hospital. My father sits on the board. So do three of my uncles.”

Iris’s heart skipped. “Your family is the board.”

“Yes.”

“And Selena?”

“She was chosen,” he said flatly. “Strategically. Her family funds several foundations tied to us.”

Iris turned in his arms. “You were never meant to love her.”

“No,” he said. “I was meant to obey.”

Her chest tightened. “And me?”

“You,” he said quietly, “were never supposed to happen.”

They held each other in the soft morning light, the weight of that truth settling heavily between them.

Nathaniel’s phone buzzed on the bedside table.

Once. Twice.

Then again.

He picked it up.

The color drained from his face.

“What is it?” Iris asked.

He turned the screen toward her.

A message from an unknown number.

She left the city. Just like you wanted.

Another message followed.

But you forgot something, Doctor.

The third message appeared.

Blood always comes before love.

Attached was a photo.

An older man standing outside Iris’s grandmother’s house.

Watching.

Iris’s breath caught painfully.

“My grandma,” she whispered.

Nathaniel sat up, fury and fear colliding in his eyes.

“They didn’t just follow us,” he said darkly.

“They went back for leverage.”