When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

Chapter 2041

She ended the call, already turning on her heel to tell Charlotte.

The moment she pivoted, she collided chest-first with Nathaniel, who had just stepped into the corridor. His hands flashed up, steadying her before either of them could gasp.

"Easy." His brow furrowed as he searched her startled face. "Who were you talking to? You look like the building's on fire."

"No one important," she said, brushing past him. "I need to see Charlotte."

She hurried down the hall, skirt whispering around her knees. Charlotte was alone, and Sven's disappearance had left her friend in a knot of panic.

Nathaniel watched her retreat, then noticed her phone abandoned on the coffee table. With a small shake of his head, he scooped it up and followed, intent on returning it before she reached the courtyard.

The handset chimed in Nathaniel's palm.

A new message from Calvin lit the screen: "Ceci, take good care of yourself. If anything troubles you, especially if Nathaniel treats you poorly, you must tell me. I will always be your strongest shield."

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed, storm-grey and unreadable. He attempted to unlock the phone, only to find the passcode had changed. After a tense beat, he exhaled, locked the screen again, and started toward the garden path, her phone still warm in his hand.

had just soothed Charlotte's nerves when

you come all the way here?"

forgot your phone." He extended

realize she had left

but Nathaniel's voice cut gently across the space between them. "Calvin messaged you a moment ago. I glanced at it

asked, accepting the device while curiosity—and a faint unease-tightened

of his mouth drawn tight. "Just look for yourself," he said, each word clipped, as though spoken

of the ice

space between them, accepted the glowing screen. One swipe revealed Calving neatly typed concem, its politeness

the dark

s

doing great. Nathaniel takes good care of me. Thank you." A gentle tap sent

Nathaniel's jaw had turned to granite. Grinning, she

the matter

fraction, gaze fixed on

the last three

the pad of his index finger brushing the velvet curve