Chapter 8
Nathan's POV
We stepped into the hall together.
The noise was softer inside than outside—only a handful of press allowed in—but the weight of their attention still pressed against my skin.
Cameras flashed. Voices murmured.
I stayed close to my mother.
Then I saw Chris
He was already walking toward us, confident, composed. He reached for her hand, and she took it without hesitation.
Slowly— she let go of mine.
I followed just a step behind as they moved toward the center of the room.
Toward the stage.
My eyes drifted across the crowd. And landed on him.
Zane. He was already looking at me. Smiling.
Warm. Open. Like nothing in the world was wrong.
I almost smiled back. Almost.
But I looked away. Because I felt it.
That shift. My gaze moved again. Kieran.
Standing across the room, a glass of champagne in his hand, posture relaxed like he didn't care about anything happening around him.
A blonde girl stood beside him, talking—her lips moving, her expression animated.
He wasn't listening. His eyes were on me. Watching.
Like I was the only thing in the room. My chest tightened.A sharp clink echoed through the hall, brought me back to the room.
Chris raised his glass.
"May I have your attention, everyone?" The room quieted.
He turned slightly, taking my mother's hand and pressing a kiss to it.
"My Grace," he said.I stared at them.
My mother smiled.
"We're here today to introduce m
y wife, Grace Leo," he continued. "And my son… my youngest son."
His hand extended toward me.
"Nathan. Nathan Leo."
My feet moved before I could think. I stepped forward, standing beside them. Between them. Like I belonged there.
Glasses lifted around the room.
"To my beautiful wife and son," Chris said.
"Cheers," the crowd echoed.
The sound rang in my ears.
"Come," Chris said, turning to my mother. "Let me introduce you."
His eyes flicked to me briefly. Iunderstood. I followed.
The introductions blurred at first—faces, names, smiles I couldn't hold onto.
Until we stopped.
"This is Patrick Grey—but I call him Pat," Chris said, clapping the man lightly on the shoulder. "My childhood friend. We've known each other for ages."
"Don't say ages," Patrick laughed. "People might think I'm old."
The kind of person who didn't carry tension in his shoulders.
"And his beautiful wife," Chris continued, "Erica Grey."
She smiled warmly. "It's lovely to meet you."
I nodded slightly. Now I understood. Why Zane was the way he was.
He came from something… whole.
"And Zane—you've already met him at the house. Their son."
Zane stepped forward.
For a second, it was just him and me again. Like the rest of the room didn't exist.Then he held something out.
The bouquet.
"For you," he said.
I hesitated— Just for a moment—
Before taking it.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"You're welcome."
There was something in his eyes. Something soft.
"Come," Chris said again, already moving on.
My mother followed. I stayed still for a second longer.
Then my eyes shifted. Kieran.
He was moving now. Walking toward the exit.
Not even glancing back. This was it.
Zane stepped closer to me, like he wanted to say something.
"I—"
"I'm sorry," I cut in quickly. "Excuse me."
I didn't wait for his response. Didn't look back.
I placed the bouquet on the nearest table and moved through the crowd, my steps faster than they should have been.
My heart was already racing.
By the time I pushed through the doors—Kieran was gone.
I followed anyway. Because tonight—
I wasn't running. Not anymore.
-----
Nathan's POV
I walked upstairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last, but I didn't stop. Not now. Not when I had already decided.The hallway was quiet, far from the noise of the banquet below. I reached his door. When a hand suddenly grabbed me.
I was pulled inside. The door shut behind me. Kieran. He stood close. Too close.
His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable. I could feel his breath against my face.
He smirked.
His lips were slightly red—probably from the wine. I forced myself not to look at them.
"We need to talk," I said.
My voice came out steadier than I expected.
He held my gaze for a moment longer… then released me, stepping back like I was something mildly entertaining.
One hand slipped into his pocket. A faint smile played on his lips.
After a pause, he spoke.
"We?"
There was something about the way he said it. Slow. Amused.
"I like the sound of that."
I ignored it.
"And what exactly would we be talking about?"
He leaned back slightly, watching me like he was enjoying every second of this.
I didn't look away.
If I showed weakness, he would use it.
I moved closer instead, leaning lightly against the table.
"Let's stop wasting time," I said. "You know why I'm here."
"I don't," he replied easily.
I stared at him. Then I smirked.
"If that's the case… then this was a mistake."
I turned, ready to leave.
"I like this side of you."
His voice stopped me.
I paused.
"Trying so hard," he continued, "but it just makes you look more helpless than you are."
I turned back slowly.
He had straightened, watching me now with something sharper in his gaze.
I leaned against the door.
I couldn't back down. Not now.
"You're such a spoiled kid," I said, my voice calm. "It's getting old. Acting like you're above everything."
I held his gaze.
"But I can see through it." A flicker.
"Behind all that?" I continued. "Just a boy with daddy issues."
For a second—
Silence. Then he laughed. Low.
He walked toward me. Slowly.
I kept my expression steady, even as my hands trembled behind my back.
"Nice," he said. "I like that."
Then he turned, walking to a drawer beside his bed. He pulled something out.
A file. He held it up slightly.
"This," he said, "contains everything that could destroy you." My fists clenched.
"But I guess you already know that." He tossed it onto the bed.
I walked over, picking it up. Flipping it open. My breath caught.
Everything. My past.
My mother. Raventon. Pictures.
Even—
A notice. Wanted.
I closed it quickly.
Before he could see too much in my face.
He stepped closer.
"Do you believe me now… brother?"
I looked up at him. Held his gaze.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He smiled. Didn't answer.
"Because if you haven't shown this to your father," I continued, "then you want something."
A pause.Then—
"You're right."
His voice dropped slightly.
"I do."
He raised his hand. Instinctively, I stepped back.
But he didn't grab me. Didn't trap me.
He just touched my arm lightly.
"The suit fits you," he murmured. His voice softened.
"But I think you looked better without it."
My breath hitched. I hated that he noticed.
Hated that my body reacted. He saw it.
Of course he did.
The way his lips curved told me everything. I swallowed, forcing myself to stay still.
He stepped closer— And for a second, I thought—
But instead, he just reached up… adjusting my suit.
Straightening it. Like nothing had happened.
"There's a whole welcoming party for you downstairs," he said calmly. "You shouldn't be away too long."
Then he walked past me. Just like that. I didn't move.
Didn't speak. I just stood there. Trying to breathe.
He stopped at the door.
"Keep the file," he added casually. "It's only a copy."
My grip tightened around it.
"Don't worry," he continued, glancing back at me. "Your secret's safe… as long as you do what I say."
A small smile.
"Don't be long, brother."
Then he left. The door closed.
And I was alone. Standing there—
With everything in my hands. And no way out.