Chapter 10 - The Shadow of the Past
The illusion of perfection, however, was shattered late the following afternoon.
Nathaniel was sitting in his executive office reviewing a portfolio when the intercom buzzed sharply. Olivia’s voice came through, uncharacteristically tense.
"Nathaniel, you have a visitor in the lobby. Refuses to leave. Refuses to give an appointment."
"Olivia, you know my policy on walk-ins," Nathaniel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Who is it?"
"Your ex-wife, Julianna."
Nathaniel froze. The pen in his hand snapped clean in half against the mahogany desk, the black ink bleeding slowly across the white leather blotter. The ghost of a chapter he thought he had closed permanently two years ago had just walked through the front doors of Grant Financial Group.
Five minutes later, the heavy oak doors of his office swung open.
Julianna Grant stepped inside, looking as immaculate and expensive as a porcelain doll. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek chignon, her tailored white coat screamed French couture, and her expression was a mix of cold amusement and calculated curiosity.
"Still hiding behind heavy oak doors, Nathaniel?" Julianna asked, stepping uninvited into the center of the room and running a gloved hand over the edge of his desk. "I see some things never change. Though I hear your taste in company has taken a rather... pedestrian turn."
Nathaniel stood up slowly. He didn't offer her a seat. His face was carved from granite, his dark eyes locked onto hers with a chilling, absolute stillness.
"What do you want, Julianna?" Nathaniel asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register. "Our divorce was finalized twenty-four months ago. All ties are severed."
Julianna laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "Oh, darling, don't be so dramatic. I'm just here to congratulate you. The tabloids are having a field day with your little kindergarten teacher and her bratty kid. A billionaire playing suburban house on Bleecker Street? Really, Nathaniel? Have you completely lost your mind?"
Step by step, Nathaniel rounded the desk, towering over her with an intensity that finally made the arrogant smirk falter on Julianna's face.
"Listen to me very carefully," Nathaniel said, every word hitting the air like a hammer on cold steel. "You sold every memory we had to the highest bidder, you treated my life like a PR campaign, and you walked out the moment things required actual human emotion. Do not—under any circumstances—mention Rebecca or Emma in this office ever again."
Julianna stepped back, her eyes narrowing with sudden, bitter malice. "You think she loves you for you, Nathaniel? She loves the penthouse. She loves the foundation checks. Women like that don't look twice at men like you unless there's a zero at the end of your bank account."
May you like
Before Nathaniel could reply, the office door clicked open again.
Rebecca, holding a brown paper bag containing lunch from the bakery down the street and accompanied by a quiet, wide-eyed Emma, stood frozen in the doorway. She had heard every single word.
