Chapter 9

If time could be rewound, Nathaniel Blackwood would gamble everything to return to that night three months ago.

That fateful evening on the streets of Newport City, the two brothers had been ambushed while discussing the future of their family. Sebastian had thrown himself in front of Nathaniel without hesitation, taking the bullet meant for his brother.

With his last breath, Sebastian had whispered about the woman he loved—Cassandra Delacroix. And the child she carried.

"Marry her. Give them the family I can't. Promise me."

Nathaniel would never forget the way his brother’s bloodied hands had clutched at him, desperation staining every word.

If he could go back, he would have shoved Sebastian aside. He should have been the one to die.

Cassandra’s voice pulled him from the memory, her tone dripping with false sorrow. "You’ve angered your father for my sake. And poor Isabella… I feel terrible about this!"

She dabbed at nonexistent tears. "I’ll raise this child alone if I must. I’m strong enough—for Sebastian’s sake."

‘Pathetic act,’ Nathaniel thought coldly. ‘But men fall for it every time.’

Yet he only stepped back, his expression unreadable. "My father doesn’t know the truth. His reaction means nothing."

"As for Isabella Lockhart…" He paused, jaw tightening. "Our marriage was a farce. Four years, and I never touched her. The divorce would have happened regardless."

Cassandra’s eyes gleamed. "But she must love you. How could she not? A man like you…"

She had meant to play with Sebastian—a dull, devoted fool. But Nathaniel? He was different. The moment she saw him, she wanted him. And Isabella was in her way.

"She doesn’t love me."

‘Otherwise, she wouldn’t have looked so relieved signing those papers.’

Cassandra nearly smiled. ‘Good. The rumors were true.’

"What a shame," she sighed, inching closer. "But her loss is my gain."

Nathaniel’s fingers clenched around his tie. "It’s late. I’m leaving."

"This is your house!" she protested.

"I don’t live here."

Her face fell. ‘He’s leaving already?’

‘No wonder they never slept together. Four years of nothing? Pathetic.’

Three days after being discharged, Isabella was moving out of her apartment.

Liam had insisted on relocating her. "Boss, this place is beneath you."

She rolled her eyes at the address he sent—a penthouse in West Langsmith. ‘Since when is a million-dollar condo "lowkey"?’

Her phone rang before she could call him back.

"Miss Lockhart? This is General Hospital. Your test results require immediate attention."