Chapter 4 - THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

By seven in the morning, the Caldwell mansion felt different. Victoria had left in a flurry of curses and screeching tires, claiming she was going to her lawyers. Meanwhile, a black SUV pulled up to the gates, and a sleepy but wide-eyed Noah was escorted into the house.
Grace wept as she hugged her son, her bandaged hands wrapping around him tightly. Nathaniel watched the reunion from the doorway, a strange, unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest. He had spent his life building a billion-dollar empire, yet looking at Grace and Noah, he realized how staggeringly empty his massive house had always been.
He assigned them the south wing's master guest suite—a room larger than their entire apartment. For the next two days, Nathaniel worked tirelessly with his forensic accountants, unraveling Victoria's web of deceit. Grace refused to sit idle; despite Nathaniel's protests, she insisted on cooking meals, her hands clad in protective gloves.
A quiet, unspoken bond began to form between them. Late at night, they would sit in the library. Nathaniel would explain the intricacies of his corporate battle, and Grace would listen, offering surprisingly sharp insights.
"You're brilliant, you know that?" Nathaniel remarked on the third night, watching the firelight dance across her features.
Grace blushed, looking down at her tea. "I was a semester away from my business degree before Noah's father left us. Life just got in the way."
"Then we'll get you back in school," Nathaniel said, stepping closer to her. He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The air between them suddenly grew thick, charged with an electric tension that had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with desire.
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But the moment was shattered by the shrill ringing of Nathaniel’s private cell phone. He answered it, his face draining of color.
"Victoria cleared out the offshore accounts," Nathaniel said, hanging up. "She's on the run. And Vance just initiated a hostile takeover."