Chapter 146 Chapter 146
Caroline's strange messages... “Men are pigs,” “Do you like me?”...
Suddenly, it all made sense. The pieces fell into place. Sheila had gone there to talk nonsense.
Nicholas's gaze darkened, turning into a storm.
He said nothing more to Mozart. He just turned on his heel and marched toward the master bedroom, emanating such a terrifying aura that even the air around him seemed to freeze.
Someone had dared to intimidate his wife in his own home. And he wouldn't let it slide.
Caroline regretted it the moment her finger touched the “send” button.
She stared at the screen, her heart racing. She thought about deleting it, but the “delivered” status mocked her. If she deleted it now, it would seem even more suspicious and embarrassing.
A minute passed. Two. Five.
Nicholas didn't respond.
Her initial anxiety turned into a dull ache. Maybe Sheila was right. Maybe he didn't have any real feelings for her. His lack of response seemed to confirm that her question — “Do you like me?” — was irrelevant or ridiculous to him.
In fact, she had asked out of spite, hurt by her rival's poisonous words. But his silence hurt more than any of Sheila's insults.
“Idiot...” she muttered to herself, feeling her eyes burn.
Angrily, she threw her cell phone away on the bed, pulled the blanket over her head, and curled up into a ball, trying to block out the outside world.
She had just hidden in her cocoon of self-pity when she heard the doorknob turn. The door opened.
Caroline immediately thought Sheila had returned to spew more venom.
Rage overcame sadness. She sat up in bed with a jerk, her hair messy and her eyes flashing.
“Miss Turner!” she shouted, her voice trembling with indignation. "Your actions reflect poorly on your upbringing!
I don't care what else you have to say, get out of here now! Otherwise, don't blame me for losing my civility!“
”What did Sheila say to you?"
The voice that answered was neither feminine nor soft. It was deep, low, and charged with dangerous tension.
Caroline froze. The blood drained from her face.
She blinked, focusing on the tall figure standing in the doorway.
“Nicholas?” she whispered, surprised. “Weren't you... weren't you working?”
Nicholas's expression was grim. Hearing Sheila's name mentioned in such an aggressive tone, he realized his instincts were right. He closed the door and strode toward the bed with long, urgent steps.
“Mozart said he saw Sheila leave here a little while ago,” he said, stopping in front of her. “What did she say to get you in this state?”
Caroline looked at him, stunned. “You came here... just for that?”
“Yes.”
Without waiting for an invitation, Nicholas sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. The embrace was firm, possessive, and protective.
“Did she intimidate you? Did she say something mean?”
His voice vibrated against her chest. Caroline rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of sandalwood and cleanliness that emanated from him. That scent was like an instant sedative. The tension in her shoulders melted away.
She was safe.
Caroline was silent for a moment, absorbing his warmth, before sighing softly.
“Nicholas... you told me you only treated Sheila like a little sister, right?”
“Hmm.” Nicholas nodded, confused. “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”
Caroline moved away slightly to look into his eyes, an expression of disbelief and helplessness on her face.
“So, what do you think... Sheila feels for you?”
She didn't doubt his word. If Nicholas said he saw her as a sister, it was true. He was too proud to lie. But his blindness was striking.
Nicholas frowned, seriously reflecting on the absurd question.
“She naturally sees me as an older brother too,” he replied with the cold logic of a CEO. “The Turner family has two daughters. In our circle, she always followed us around and called us brothers. It's a brotherly affection.”
Caroline was speechless.
She realized that God was fair. He gave Nicholas a brilliant business mind and divine looks, but completely deprived him of emotional intelligence when it came to romance.
The man was an inept genius.
Sheila had made her feelings obvious for twenty years, and he actually believed the “older brother” story? How naive.
“Did something happen?” Nicholas asked, noticing her judgmental gaze.
Caroline sighed, feeling a twinge of pity for her rival.
“You never thought Sheila might like you... that way? As a man?”
Nicholas was stunned. Shock flashed in his eyes, followed by a frown of disbelief.
“She likes me? Romantically?”
Seeing his genuine reaction, Caroline confirmed her theory. If Sheila hadn't come out and said it, this man would die without knowing.
“Yes,” Caroline said. “Didn't you notice anything? In twenty years?”
Nicholas's eyebrows knitted even closer together. “Who told you that? Was it her?”
“She didn't have to say it.” Caroline shook her head. “I have eyes. Sheila is too proud to admit it, but it was written all over her face. The hatred she feels for me isn't because I ‘stole her brother,’ Nicholas. It's because I married the man she loves.”
She looked at him seriously. “She didn't feel threatened before because you weren't interested in women. But now that you're married... she's panicked.”
Nicholas seemed to be processing alien information. He looked at Caroline with a sudden, penetrating gaze.
“Are you jealous?”
Caroline blinked, taken aback. “What?”
“Don't worry.” Nicholas cupped her face, cutting off any denial. His voice became serious, almost a solemn promise. “Whether in the past or the present, I've always seen her as a sister. I can't control her feelings, but I have complete control over mine. Sheila will never be a threat to you. Never.”
Caroline's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of the statement.
But immediately afterward, insecurity and fear of surrendering spoke louder. She needed to protect herself. She needed to remind herself—and him—of their contractual reality.
Caroline's facial muscles tightened into a forced smile.