His name was Nathaniel

90

Nathaniel had never been the type to slow down.

Even now, confined to his penthouse, working remotely, he refused to acknowledge the real reason behind it.

He told himself it was strategic—an opportunity to reorganize priorities, to work more efficiently.

But he knew the truth.

And so did everyone else.

His staff, his colleagues, even some business associates—they all knew why Nathaniel Donovan, the ever-present, ever-commanding heir to the empire, had suddenly opted for home office.

Yet, no one dared to mention it.

Not the way his bodyguards subtly kept an eye on him.

Not the way his assistant carefully managed his schedule, making sure he had "breaks" he never asked for.

Not even the way his grandfather, seated across from him in the spacious office, occasionally gave him a look—one filled with unspoken concern.

But unlike the rest, his grandfather never said anything about it.

Not directly.

Nathaniel knew why.

If the old man did bring it up, Nathaniel would shut the conversation down before it even started.

So instead, his grandfather simply watched, as if waiting for Nathaniel to acknowledge what they both already knew.

Nathaniel never did.

⸻

The Search for an Apprentice

Nathaniel let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stared at the ever-growing stack of applications in front of him.

Dozens of names.

Dozens of perfect candidates.

And yet, none of them were what he was looking for.

"I hope you're aware," his grandfather finally spoke, adjusting his reading glasses, "that you've rejected every candidate so far."

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "Because they're all boring."

His grandfather snorted. "They're highly qualified."

"They're basic," Nathaniel corrected, flipping through yet another application. "Every single one of them is just another person who wants to attach themselves to the Donovan name. I don't need another yes-man—I need someone who can actually think."

His grandfather hummed in thought, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "What exactly are you looking for, then?"

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Someone who isn't afraid to challenge me. Someone who isn't just here for the money or the status."

His grandfather smirked. "So, someone like Adaliya."

Nathaniel shot him a look. "This isn't about her."

"Oh, I know," his grandfather mused. "But she did set a rather high bar, didn't she?"

Nathaniel ignored him, flipping to the next page—only to immediately sigh in disappointment.

His grandfather watched as he tossed yet another application into the reject pile.

"You're being too picky," the older man remarked.

Nathaniel let out a humorless laugh. "I should be picky. This isn't just some assistant—I need someone I can trust with real decisions, someone who won't just agree with everything I say because they want to be in my good graces."

His grandfather nodded slowly. "Then perhaps you should be looking outside the usual circle."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

His grandfather smirked. "You want someone who thinks differently? Then maybe stop looking in the same places you always do."

Nathaniel tilted his head, considering.

Maybe his grandfather had a point.

And for the first time since he started this search, a new idea formed in his mind.

One that just might work.

⸻

Later that evening, as Nathaniel sat on his balcony, overlooking the city skyline, he pulled out his phone.

Without thinking twice, he dialed the only person who could make this mess of a day feel normal.

Adaliya picked up almost immediately. "You better not be calling me to say you've overworked yourself again."

Nathaniel huffed out a soft laugh, letting his head rest against the chair. "I haven't."

"Good," she muttered. "Because I swear, Nathaniel, if I have to fly over there and force you to take care of yourself—"

"I'm looking for an apprentice."

Silence.

Then—

"What?"

Nathaniel smirked slightly. "I figured it was time to take some of the workload off my shoulders."

Adaliya gasped. "Nathaniel Donovan willingly giving up control?"

"Don't make it sound dramatic."

"It is dramatic," she teased. "You actually admitting that you can't handle everything by yourself? That's growth."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but the amusement in her voice made his chest feel lighter.

"Well, I haven't found anyone yet," he admitted. "They're all the same. No personality. No originality. Just another name on a résumé."

Adaliya hummed in thought. "Maybe you're looking in the wrong places."

Nathaniel smirked. "You sound like my grandfather."

"Well, he's a smart man," she mused. "And he's right."

Nathaniel let out a slow breath, staring at the city lights. "I just need someone who isn't afraid to think."

"You will," she said softly. "And I'm really glad you're doing this, Nathaniel. You need to take care of yourself, too."

He swallowed, her words settling deep in his chest.

For a moment, he wished she were here. That he could pull her into his arms and let the weight on his shoulders disappear, even if just for a little while.

"I miss you," he admitted.

Adaliya exhaled, her voice softer now. "I miss you too."

Nathaniel closed his eyes, allowing himself to just breathe.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was finally taking a step forward.

And with Adaliya in his corner, maybe—just maybe—he wouldn't have to carry the world alone.

⸻