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If she hadn't done that, I might not have died so quickly. Nathan went to his study and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, opening a folder. But his hands wouldn't stop trembling. He sat with it for a moment, then threw the papers down and stood up. "Fine. Let's see what you're playing at." He made his way down to the wine cellar and pushed the door open. The silence in there at that hour felt heavier than usual, the kind that pressed against one's ears. Nathan walked up to the fridge. "Sherry, is that letter done?

Chapter 37 That morning, Nathan sat in his study with a cup of coffee that hadn't even been touched. He stared blankly at his laptop screen until a soft knock on the door broke his reverie. "Come in," he said simply. His assistant entered with a brown folder. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Nathan," the assistant said carefully. "There's an important letter that just arrived this morning. From Miss Elena." Nathan's eyes immediately sharpened. "Elena?"

It did not matter. Nelly’s acting was really good, so it was only natural that Nathan could not see through it. After all, Nathan even thought Sharon was a good person. After some thought, Nathan decided not to ask but still quietly deleted Nelly’s number from his phone and even blocked her on Twitter. Yes, there must be a good reason for North to dislike Nelly. The car drove into Fifth Avenue, revealing an extremely luxurious mall for expensive goods. Nathan went the extra mile and opened the car door for North.

He was proud of the person he had become, and he was eager to continue his journey of growth and self-discovery. With the support of Miranda, Isabella, Emily, Claire, and his other loved ones, Nathan embarked on the next chapter of his life with renewed hope and determination. He continued to pursue his passions, both in his career and in his artistic endeavors, and he dedicated himself to being a source of support and inspiration for others facing their own challenges.

I mumble something, try to push myself up, but I’m too exhausted and my muscles are too sore to expend any real effort. The blankets rustle as Nathan gets out of bed and I watch through the reluctant, narrow opening of my eyelids as he walks across the bedroom, totally nude, like there isn’t another person with us. He takes a scarlet envelope from the thrall’s silver tray and waves the man away. I momentarily duck my head under the covers when Nathan turns back, a strange mix of horny and bashful forcing a giggle up my throat that I subdue when I emerge and see the frown on his face.

I took a deep breath and told myself I couldn’t stay in here forever. Pushing the door open, a new wave of steam escaped ahead of me, into the dimly lit bedroom. The overhead light was off. Only a single brass lamp on the bedside table was lit. Nathan was at the window. He’d put on a pair of grey sweatpants but remained barefoot, bare-chested. His back was at me, shoulders were tense. his head bowed slightly as he looked out into the black night, one hand braced against the window frame. The pose spoke of a contained power, of waiting.

Thank you so much for reading through the book two of the Nanny affair, my apologies for the little mistakes, you might come across while reading, but trust me, we all make mistakes and we are all human. Now, the story takes a leap of six months, Salem Baltimore alas Andres Khan, brought a fifty percent shares of the company and all this while under the pretense of Lewis Chang, seen at the previous chapter, he takes the from of an interpreter between Elena and Andres Khan.

The room was clean but plain, nothing like the grand house around it. That night, alone in the small room, Claire finally let herself cry, quietly, into a pillow that smelled like a stranger's house, in a life she never chose. She did not know that just down the hall, Nathan was standing outside his own bedroom door, staring at the wall, feeling something he refused to name. And she definitely did not know that three floors below them, in a private office, Eleanor Cole was sitting across from a man Claire had never met, a man who smiled as he said quietly.

She slashed at his head with savage precision, each strike lethal. Blood poured in torrents. The live stream was abruptly terminated. On a night filled with the warmth of family reunions and hopes for a brighter future, Nathan died, killed by the woman he had cherished above all in his past life. Perhaps, in his final moments, he felt the weight of regret. But it no longer mattered to me. I chose not to reveal that I was Spring, understanding that life's true value lay in contentment, not in the fleeting allure of fame or power.