His name was Nathaniel

77

Nathaniel had stepped into many intimidating rooms before—boardrooms filled with ruthless businessmen, lavish galas where power was exchanged in hushed conversations, even meetings with his father, where every word felt like a test.

But as the private jet descended toward Adaliya's hometown, he found himself feeling something far more unsettling than nerves.

It was uncertainty.

This was his first time returning to Adaliya's home since the night he had helped her leave. That night had been chaos—rushed, emotional, desperate. Now, he was returning as a guest. As her boyfriend.

And from what he already knew, not everyone was thrilled about that.

Sitting across from him in the jet, his grandfather sipped his whiskey, watching Nathaniel with quiet amusement. "You look like a man preparing to walk into a battlefield."

Nathaniel exhaled sharply. "That's what it feels like."

The older man chuckled, setting his glass down. "Good. Means you understand the stakes."

Nathaniel shot him a dry look. "I thought you were here to support me."

"I am supporting you," his grandfather said, unbothered. "But let's not pretend this is going to be easy. That woman—Adaliya's mother—she's not going to roll out the red carpet for you."

Nathaniel knew that much already. He had heard enough from Adaliya to know that her mother didn't approve of him. And given the public scrutiny their relationship was facing, it was unlikely that her opinion had changed for the better.

Still, he was here.

For Adaliya.

That was what mattered.

The plane touched down smoothly, and soon they were on their way to her family's house. Nathaniel sat in silence, gazing out the window as familiar streets passed by. Everything looked the same, yet different—quieter, smaller than he remembered.

When they finally arrived, the house stood just as he recalled. Modest, warm, but right now, lacking its usual comfort.

Waiting for them at the door were Adaliya's grandparents, smiling warmly.

"There you are," her grandmother greeted, pulling Nathaniel into a firm hug before stepping back to study him. "You look healthier."

Nathaniel managed a small smile. "I've been taking care of myself."

"Good," her grandfather added with a nod, shaking his hand. "It's about time you came back, son."

Nathaniel wanted to take comfort in that, but as he stepped inside, his gaze landed on Adaliya's mother standing near the dining room, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Her father stood beside her, neutral but distant, as if he was still deciding what to think of all this.

And then, there was Adaliya—standing between them, her expression cautious yet hopeful.

Nathaniel exhaled slowly. Here we go.

⸻

Dinner Was Anything but Comfortable

The dining table was set beautifully, the meal clearly prepared with care, but the tension in the air made every bite hard to swallow.

Adaliya's mother barely acknowledged Nathaniel. She spoke when necessary, responding to his grandfather's polite conversation, but when it came to Nathaniel himself, her tone was clipped, her responses short.

Her father was more civil, but he mostly listened, interjecting only when needed.

Adaliya's grandparents, on the other hand, did everything they could to smooth things over—asking about Nathaniel's health, his work, even mentioning how happy Adaliya seemed lately.

But her mother was having none of it.

At one point, she set down her fork with just a little too much force and turned to Nathaniel. "I still don't understand what a man like you sees in my daughter."

The room went silent.

Nathaniel looked up, calmly meeting her gaze. "Why wouldn't I?"

She scoffed. "Oh, please. Don't insult my intelligence. You come from a world of luxury, power, people who are practically raised to marry within their class. And yet, you expect me to believe you'll choose her over all of that?"

Adaliya stiffened beside him. "Mama, stop."

"No," Nathaniel said before she could defuse the moment. He turned his full attention to her mother. "You're right. My world is different. It's ruthless, privileged, and full of people who only care about power. And I want nothing to do with that kind of life."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you still a Donovan?"

Nathaniel exhaled through his nose. "Because, like Adaliya, I don't get to erase where I come from. But I do get to choose the life I build. And I choose her."

Adaliya's mother leaned back, unimpressed. "For now."

Nathaniel's grip on his fork tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "For always."

Her mother shook her head, unconvinced. "Time will tell."

The rest of the dinner passed with strained conversation, but Nathaniel knew one thing—he had not won her over.

Not yet.

⸻

After dinner, Nathaniel's grandfather decided to head to a hotel, sensing that his presence would do little to improve the mood.

"You can handle yourself, can't you?" he muttered to Nathaniel as they stepped outside.

Nathaniel sighed. "I'll survive."

His grandfather clapped him on the shoulder before heading off, leaving Nathaniel with Adaliya by the doorway.

She bit her lip, hesitant. "Do you want to stay?"

Nathaniel looked at her in surprise. "You want me to?"

Adaliya nodded. "I know it was a rough dinner, but I don't want you leaving like this. Stay."

Nathaniel studied her for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

She smiled softly. "Come on, I'll show you where you can put your stuff."