His name was Nathaniel

80

The moment Nathaniel stepped into the Donovan Enterprises building, the atmosphere around him shifted.

His time away had been brief, but it was long enough for the tension to build. The moment the elevator doors opened to his office floor, his assistant was already waiting for him, tablet in hand, listing out a pile of meetings, urgent messages, and an upcoming press conference he was expected to attend.

Nathaniel only half-listened, his mind still caught between two worlds—the one he had just left behind with Adaliya and the one he was stepping into now.

He barely had time to settle in before his phone buzzed with an incoming call from the last person he wanted to deal with today.

Edward Donovan.

Nathaniel exhaled sharply before answering. "Father."

"I assume you're finally back to doing what actually matters," Edward's cold voice greeted him.

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "I never stopped handling my responsibilities."

"Could've fooled me," Edward said dryly. "First, I hear you're spending more time with that girl instead of focusing on your position. And now, I'm getting reports that certain business associates are questioning your priorities."

Nathaniel frowned, leaning back in his chair. "Reports from who?"

Edward ignored the question. "I warned you about this, Nathaniel. You're making unnecessary noise. The more you entertain this relationship, the weaker you look."

Nathaniel's grip on his phone tightened. "I don't care how I look to them."

"Then maybe you should," Edward snapped. "The moment people sense a weakness, they will exploit it. You're already giving them something to talk about—what's next? Are you planning to parade her around at official Donovan events? Do you really think she fits into our world?"

Nathaniel clenched his jaw. "She doesn't have to fit in. That's not why I'm with her."

Edward let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, how romantic of you. But tell me, Nathaniel, how long do you think that will last? Eventually, she will become a liability, whether you want to admit it or not. And when that happens, you'll have a decision to make. Your family or some woman who doesn't belong."

Nathaniel's entire body tensed. "She has a name."

Silence.

Then Edward spoke again, his voice colder than before. "You sound just like your grandfather. Soft. Unfocused."

Nathaniel's blood boiled, but before he could respond, the line went dead.

He inhaled deeply, staring at his phone as the familiar wave of frustration surged through him.

No matter what he did, his father would never respect his choices.

He forced himself to push the conversation aside, at least for now, and returned to his overflowing inbox.

⸻

Hours later, after dealing with back-to-back meetings, Nathaniel found himself in a private lunch with a high-profile business associate—one of the many older men his father had once aligned with.

"Your work has been impressive, Nathaniel," the man said, stirring his drink. "You've managed to increase company efficiency since stepping in. Very commendable."

Nathaniel nodded. "Thank you."

The man tilted his head slightly. "But there is... some concern."

Nathaniel set his glass down. "Concern?"

"A few of us have noticed your recent distractions," the man said smoothly, his tone calm but pointed. "There's been talk. Some believe you're becoming too emotionally invested in things outside the company."

Nathaniel's jaw tensed. "If my numbers are still delivering, why does it matter?"

The man smiled slightly. "Because perception matters. And right now, the perception is that you're growing too soft. That woman—"

"Her name is Adaliya."

The man barely blinked at the correction. "Right. Well, whatever Adaliya is to you, she's becoming a public topic. And in our world, distractions can be dangerous."

Nathaniel's fingers curled into fists beneath the table. "You can assure whoever's talking that my work is my priority."

"I hope so," the man said lightly, finishing his drink. "Because in this business, one wrong move is all it takes for everything to come crashing down."

Nathaniel said nothing as the man stood, gave him a polite nod, and left.

His hands tightened around his glass.

⸻

By the time Nathaniel left the office, his frustration was at an all-time high. He needed a break—needed to talk to someone who wasn't constantly reminding him of his responsibilities.

Which was how he ended up at Violet's penthouse, letting himself in as she flipped through a magazine on the couch.

She barely glanced up. "Oh, look, it's my favorite lovesick fool."

Nathaniel groaned. "Do not start."

Violet smirked, finally putting her magazine down. "What's wrong? Business meeting didn't go well? Or did Daddy Donovan call to remind you that you're ruining the family name?"

Nathaniel shot her an unimpressed look. "Both."

Violet hummed. "So, what did the out-of-touch corporate men say this time?"

Nathaniel sat down, rubbing his temple. "That I look weak. That I'm distracted. That people are questioning my ability to lead because I'm too 'emotionally invested.'"

Violet snorted. "Translation: 'You're not a cold-hearted asshole like your father, and they don't like that.'"

Nathaniel didn't respond.

Violet studied him, then smirked. "Well, at least one thing seems to be going well for you."

Nathaniel frowned. "What?"

Her smirk widened. "You and Adaliya."

Nathaniel sighed. "Yes, despite all the hell surrounding us, we're fine."

Violet leaned her chin on her hand. "So..." She dragged out the word. "Have you two finally—"

Nathaniel stiffened.

Violet's eyes widened before a grin stretched across her face. "Oh. My. God."

Nathaniel's entire body went rigid. "Violet—"

"You did." She gasped. "Oh my God, you did!"

Nathaniel sighed, already regretting coming here. "This is exactly why I don't tell you things."

Violet cackled. "You don't have to tell me—I can see it all over your stupidly in-love face."

Nathaniel rubbed his temple. "You are the worst."

Violet wiped fake tears from her eyes. "My little cousin is growing up."

Nathaniel glared. "I will leave."

"Oh, relax, Nathaniel," she teased. "It's cute." Then her smirk returned. "And I know you were a mess about it."

Nathaniel scowled. "I was not."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "You panicked, didn't you?"

Nathaniel's silence was all the confirmation she needed.

She howled with laughter.

Nathaniel groaned, sinking further into the couch. "I hate you."

Violet grinned. "No, you don't. Now spill the details—wait, no, actually, don't. I don't need a mental image of my cousin in bed."

Nathaniel threw a pillow at her.

Violet dodged it, still laughing.

For the first time that day, Nathaniel felt lighter.

⸻