All Chapters of Mr Harrison Forbidden Obsession: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

NATALIA’S POVThe truth does not always arrive all at once. Sometimes it creeps in slowly, piece by piece, quiet and unassuming, until one day the whole picture becomes impossible to ignore. And so it began—whispers that shifted, glances that changed, questions that grew sharper, not toward Drakon and me, but toward Marco.It started with small things. Friends and acquaintances who had once looked at me with pity or condemnation began to approach me with hesitation, their voices lowered, their eyes searching mine as if seeking something they had not expected to find. They spoke of things Marco had said—wild, contradictory stories that shifted depending on who was listening. To some, he claimed I had pursued his father relentlessly and trapped him. To others, he said Drakon had forced me, threatened me, held me captive. To a few, he whispered that I had been the one to destroy everything, that I had lied and schemed and broken apart two families simply out of greed.But his stories did

NATALIA’S POVThe days that followed felt different—lighter, somehow, as though a heavy weight that had hung over us for months had finally begun to lift. The air in the house felt sweeter. The sunlight seemed warmer. Even the silence felt peaceful rather than suffocating. With Marco gone and his lies laid bare, there was no longer any shadow lurking at the edges of every moment, waiting to strike. There was only us. And the quiet, steady rhythm of a life slowly being put back together.Drakon did not change overnight. He did not suddenly become loud or boastful or careless. If anything, he grew quieter, gentler, more careful with every word he spoke to me. He continued to stand by me in every way that mattered—protecting me, providing for me, respecting my space and my silence and the pace at which I chose to heal. But now, there was something new between us. A softening. A quiet trust that began to take root, slow and fragile, like the first green shoots pushing through after a long

NATALIA’S POVThe seasons began to turn, soft and gentle, marking the passage of time in ways I had never before noticed. The heavy gray rains gave way to warm, golden sunshine that lingered long into the evening, painting the valley below in hues of amber and honey. The garden bloomed—roses climbing the stone walls, lavender lining the paths, wildflowers nodding in the breeze—and every morning, when I stepped outside, the air smelled of earth and sweetness and new life.And so it was with us. Slowly, quietly, without fanfare or grand declaration, the shadows began to fade. The weight that had pressed so heavily upon my chest lifted little by little, until one day I realized I could breathe freely again. I could walk through the village without lowering my head. I could meet people’s eyes without flinching. I could smile, and find that the smile reached my eyes, and stayed there.Drakon remained exactly as he had been—steady, patient, unwavering. But now, there was no longer any barri

NATALIA’S POVThe days that followed were filled with a kind of soft, glowing joy I had never known before. Every morning, I woke up with a smile on my face, my heart light and full, and the memory of Drakon’s proposal still fresh in my mind. We were to be married. We were to build a life together. And finally, after all the pain and tears and separation, we had everything we had ever dreamed of—right within our reach.We decided upon a quiet wedding, held in the small chapel nestled at the foot of the hill, surrounded by the gardens we loved so dearly. No grand crowds. No harsh eyes. No judgment. Only those who truly loved us, who had stood by us, who had seen our struggle and rejoiced at our victory. My mother would be there. A few close friends. And that was all. We needed nothing more.Drakon insisted on involving me in every decision. He did not choose things for me. He did not make plans without asking. He sat beside me at the dining table, spread out books and swatches and sket

NATALIA’S POVThe first days of our marriage unfolded like a beautiful dream—soft, warm, and filled with a happiness so quiet and deep it felt as though it had always been there, waiting for us to finally find it. There was no rush. No noise. No fear. Only the gentle rhythm of our days together, waking beside each other, sharing every meal, walking through the gardens hand in hand, and falling asleep beneath the same blanket of stars we had watched so many times before.But now, everything was different. Now, there was no barrier between us. No hesitation. No wall I had built around my heart to keep him out. I was his wife. He was my husband. And every morning when I opened my eyes and saw him sleeping beside me, I felt a joy so bright it made my heart ache.Drakon was every bit as tender as I had known he would be. He did not treat me like something fragile to be kept safe. He treated me like his equal—his partner, his confidante, the one person he could truly be himself with. He wou