Chapter 12
Strangely, Emma suddenly stopped letting me drive her around Manhattan. More importantly, she rarely came back to the villa we shared.
One morning, I seized the opportunity to ask who was driving her to work every day.
She avoided my gaze, stammering: “A gorgeous girl like me can’t find someone to pick me up? Please!”
Then she hurriedly placed the Chanel bag she’d chosen for me over my shoulder and pushed me toward the door.
“Don’t you have that new collection to handle? Better get going. Those Calvin Klein. people won’t wait forever.”
How weird. Too weird.
Who could be picking her up? Not my brother, surely?
Impossible–she couldn’t have caved before me. Emma was more stubborn than a
mule when it came to her pride.
Just then, my assistant called saying someone was looking for me at the studio, so
I didn’t think more about it.
I completely missed the familiar black Maybach that pulled up to my villa gates moments after I drove away in my Tesla.
Part of me wanted to hate Nathan for the months of rejection, for making me feel unwanted in my own marriage. But another part understood his misguided attempt to be responsible, to make sure we had a future beyond just the physical. The battle between my pride and my heart was exhausting.
When I arrived at the venue, the person my assistant mentioned turned out to be
Nathan.
Honestly, he’d been acting like a ghost lately, appearing everywhere I went. Now he had his driver unloading bags of Tiffany and Prada gifts, bribing my employees with coffee and pastries from my favorite bakery.
From a distance, I could hear him talking enthusiastically:
“Yes, our Alex is not only gorgeous but also incredibly talented. Being her husband
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feels like I’ve saved the entire galaxy.”
“She’s been so busy lately with no time for me, so I had to come see her instead.”
Me: “…”
I immediately went over and pulled his arm: “Don’t you have work? People having
heart attacks? Lives to save?”
He replied with complete seriousness: “Took special leave.”
“If I don’t chase after you now, I’ll lose my wife for good.”
He whispered close to my ear, his warm breath making me shiver.
My cheeks warmed slightly as his gaze suddenly fell on a male model in the
distance who was having a bandage applied to his chiseled abs.
“Is that one of the guys who has dinner with you every day?” he asked, his jaw
tightening.
What?
Only then did I remember Emma’s words about the male models, so I sighed and
played along.
“Yeah, that’s him. Alessandro from Milan.” I made up the name on the spot.
He made a noncommittal sound: “Doesn’t look like much. You’d be better off
eating with me—I can make you those honey garlic ribs you love. Or anything else you’re hungry for.” His voice dropped suggestively on the last words.
Me: “…”
But he’s younger than you, I thought childishly.
The model noticed me and waved.
Just as he was about to speak, Nathan immediately stepped in front of me,
marking his territory like some primal alpha.
He extended his hand in introduction: “Hello, I’m Dr. Nathan Gray, Alex’s husband.
We’re very happily married. No room for a third person.”
”
The model looked bewildered, glancing from me to Nathan.
“I know, Dr. Gray. I’ve heard about you many times.”
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“Many… times?” Nathan’s wariness transformed into surprise, a hint of pleasure crossing his usually cold features.
“Did Alex mention me?”
“Not exactly…”
Nathan’s smile faded faster than a Snapchat.
“But it was all related to Alex.”
Nathan’s smile returned, brighter than before.
He patted the model’s shoulder, suddenly serious in his praise.
“My man, you’re quite handsome. Very clean–cut. You’ll go far in this industry.”
Me: “…
I was speechless, wondering how to politely get rid of this nuisance when I spotted Emma approaching through the studio doors.
Panicking, I pushed Nathan toward the storage room.
“Emma’s coming. Quick, hide!”
