Chapter 12: Nicholas’s Vulnerable Moment

The rain drummed softly against the windows in the penthouse, filling the quiet between us. I absently traced designs on the soft fabric of the throw pillow in my lap while snuggling up on the couch's edge. Nicholas sat rigidly in his chair across from me, holding a tumbler of amber liquid.

Tension had grown between us since the mysterious phone call the previous evening. We hadn't discussed it much, but Nicholas was preoccupied. His normally composed manner was unraveling like a thread tugged too tight.

I was the first to break the stillness. "Will you tell me what's happening, Nicholas?"

He took a moment to glance at me. Rather, he continued to stare out the window at the dusky skyline. With a last sigh, he placed the drink on the table.

"There's a lot people don't understand about me," he said in a low voice that had a hint of edge that I couldn't quite place.

I raised an eyebrow. "That alone is clear."

His lips suddenly created a smile, but it never got to his eyes. He moved forward and put both arms on his knees, his fists squeezed together.

Suddenly, he appeared... uneasy for a man who always seemed in charge.

After a minute, he replied, "I didn't want you to get pulled into this." "It wasn't meant to touch you at all."

"None of what?" I applied pressure, my annoyance erupting. "You're talking in circles, Nicholas. Tell me, please."

His jaw tensed as though he were fighting an internal struggle as he hesitated. Then he took a deep breath and started.

"My family," he uttered, his voice heavy. They have consistently been... complex. It's all about control, power, and appearances. It is the foundation of my father's empire, and he wants everyone to follow suit. I am included in that.

I scowled. However, haven't you established your empire? Why is his opinion important?

Nicholas gave a sour laugh. Because I'll never be enough in his eyes, his expectations always precede anything I achieve.

I looked at him, taken aback by how unvarnished his voice was. I had never seen the man behind Nicholas Scott's polished appearance like this.

"So, why are you concerned?" I asked quietly.

His eyes were penetrating as he peered at me. "Because it's more than just me." It has to do with the name and the legacy. The consequences of my choices extend well beyond my personal preferences.

I took a seat back and tried to decipher his silence. "And this union... is a component of that?"

With a stern grimace, he nodded. They see you as a resource to strengthen relationships and enhance public perception. They just give a damn about that.

I understood the truth, yet the words still hurt. "And to you?" My question was hardly audible above a whisper.

Nicholas's eyes softened, and for a split second, I believed he might say something that would make all the difference. Instead, he averted his gaze, his vulnerability retreating behind his defenses.

He said, "It doesn't matter what I think," and stood up suddenly.

He poured himself another drink, walked toward the bar, and I followed. "It matters," I emphasized. "We must be honest with one another if we are to survive this and if this is going to work."

The glass lingered in his fingers as he hesitated. He repeated the term "honesty," as if he hadn't come across it before.

"Yes," I said, advancing a step.

Nicholas, I must understand what I'm dealing with. I must know if I can rely on you.

His shoulders stiffened, and I feared he might stop talking to me. However, he turned with an inscrutable face.

His voice was low as he stated, "My father doesn't just control his family." "Everything he touches is under his control." And he won't think twice about taking action if he believes you pose a danger to that authority.

His words weighed heavily on me like a thick blanket. "What is meant by that?"

"It implies that you must exercise caution," he stated. That's because he will use you against me if he can.

My thoughts were racing as I gazed at him. Our accord was no longer the only consideration; survival was now at stake.

"And you believe that he has already begun?" Recalling the phone call from the previous evening, I inquired.

Even though Nicholas didn't respond, I could tell by the expression in his eyes.

The tension between us smoldered like a live wire, and the room became silent again. I wanted to ask him questions to encourage him to talk more, but someone knocked on the door before I could do so.

Both of us frozen. After putting down his glass, Nicholas cautiously approached the entrance.

"Did you have someone in mind?" With a tense voice, I asked.

He shook his head, signaling me to stay back.

He opened the door to see a man in a black suit standing on the opposite side.

Despite his composed appearance, something about him made me uneasy.

The man said, "Nicholas Scott," in a courteous but strong tone. "We must speak."

Nicholas's mouth clenched. "Not this evening."

The man entered without permission and declared, "It's not a request."

Unable to resist, I stepped closer. "Who are you?"

A small smile appeared on the man's lips as his eyes shifted to me. "Just someone who only has his best interests in mind."

Nicholas moved tensely in front of us. "Avoid her involvement in this."

The man's eyebrow went up. "Considering her position, which is going to be challenging."

"What role?" I was so frustrated that I demanded.

The man's smile widened as he glanced back at me. "You don't know, do you?"

Nicholas's tone was piercing. "That's sufficient." However, it was too late. The man's statements had already sown a seed of doubt in my mind.

His final remarks reverberated across the room like a melancholic tune as he departed. Mrs. Scott, exercise caution. You're engaging in extremely risky behavior.