Chapter 104 Frozen Peas and Scorched Earth
The silence in the study was a living thing, thick with the scent of old paper, cold coffee, and the fading electricity of a storm. Nate still hadn't moved. He remained a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the city, his hands braced on the window frame as if he were holding the entire building upright.
"Nate?" I said again, my voice a little stronger this time.
He finally turned. The sight of his face made my heart ache. The cold, lethal mask he’d worn for Scarlett was gone, replaced by a raw, jagged exhaustion that made him look older. His eyes scanned me frantically, cataloging my pale face, the oversized sleeves of his shirt, and the fact that I was finally, truly awake.
"Mila," he breathed, his voice breaking on my name.
In two long strides, he was across the room. He didn't stop until he was inches from me, his hands hovering near my shoulders as if he were afraid I might shatter if he touched me. "You should be in bed. The doctor said you needed to sleep off the rest of the—"
"I heard her, Nate," I interrupted, looking up at him. "I heard everything."
His expression darkened for a fleeting second, a shadow of that Salvatore fury returning to his eyes. "You weren't supposed to hear any of that. I wanted her gone before you woke up. I wanted to handle it so you never had to look at her face again."
"You banished her," I whispered, the reality of it finally sinking in. "You threatened her father’s company. Nate, the fallout from this... your mother, the board... they’re going to come for you."
"Let them come," he snapped, his hands finally closing around my arms, pulling me a fraction closer. "Do you have any idea what it felt like? Finding your phone dead? Walking into that room and seeing those men near you?" His grip tightened, not to hurt me, but as if he were anchoring himself. "I have spent my entire life playing by their rules, Mila. I have navigated their politics and smiled at their dinners. But the second I thought I’d lost you—the second I realized they had laid a hand on you—none of it mattered. I would burn every legacy I have to the ground to keep you safe. I was so goddamn worried. I’ve never been that afraid in my life."
The raw honesty in his voice, the sheer volume of the fear he had carried for me, broke the last of my defenses. I didn't care about the Tates. I didn't care about the "trash" Scarlett thought I was. All I cared about was the man standing in front of me who had become my entire world.
I didn't say a word. I reached up, grabbing the front of his wrinkled shirt, and pulled him down.
I kissed him with everything I had—with the lingering fear of the night, with the gratitude of being rescued, and with a desperate, burning need to feel his heart beating against mine. Nate let out a low, ragged groan, his hands sliding from my arms to my waist, hoisting me up until my toes barely touched the floor. The kiss was frantic and unpolished, a collision of relief and hunger that tasted of salt and coffee. I felt the heat of him through the thin cotton of his shirt, the solid reality of his chest against mine acting as the only thing keeping me upright.
I was lost in him, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, finally feeling the warmth I had been deprived of in that cold storage room. For a few glorious seconds, the war was over. There was no Alverstone, no Scarlett, no toxins—just the two of us in the quiet of the morning.
"Ahem."
The sound of a very deliberate, very awkward throat-clearing echoed through the room.
We broke apart, though Nate didn't let me go. He kept one arm firmly around my waist, pulling me into his side as we both turned toward the door. I felt my face flush a deep, hot crimson, my hands smoothing down the front of his massive shirt in a futile attempt at modesty.
Theodore stood there, looking as stoic and professional as ever, though there was a glint of relief in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide.Beside him stood Gavin, who looked like he’d been through a literal hedge backwards. His tuxedo was torn at the shoulder, his tie was completely missing, and he was currently holding a bag of frozen peas to a very swollen, purple black eye.
"I hate to interrupt the 'reunion of the century,'" Gavin said, his voice slightly muffled by the plastic bag of peas. He looked at us, his gaze lingering on me in Nate’s shirt before he smirked, his one good eye dancing with mischief. "But unless you want the Dean of Alverstone to find out about your 'scandal' from a frantic Scarlett Tate, we probably need to move on to phase two of the scorched-earth policy. Also, Nate, your housekeeper is asking if we want breakfast or if we’re just going to live on adrenaline and vengeance today."
Nate breathed out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally dropping an inch. "Gavin. I thought I told you to get that eye looked at by the doctor before he left."
"And miss the drama? I think not," Gavin winced as he shifted the peas, trying to find a colder spot. "Besides, I think I look rugged. Very 'street-fighter-meets-corporate-lawyer.' It’s a vibe. The girls in the junior class are going to love the mystery of it."
He looked at me, his expression softening into something kinder. "Glad to see you’re upright, Mila. You look significantly better than the guys we left in the service corridor. Though, let’s be honest, that isn’t a high bar to clear."
"Thanks to you both," I said, leaning my weight into Nate’s side. The room felt steady again, anchored by the presence of people I knew I could trust.
"Don't thank me," Gavin waved a hand dismissively, then hissed as the movement tweaked his shoulder. "Thank Nate. I’ve never seen him move like that. I'm pretty sure he broke the sound barrier—and at least one guy’s jaw. It was like watching a John Wick movie, but with better tailoring."
He looked at Nate and then back at me, his grin widening despite the swelling on his face. "Also, nice shirt, Mila. It’s a bit big, but the 'borrowed from the boyfriend' look is really trending this season. Very chic. Very... 'I-just-survived-a-secret-society-coup' aesthetic."
"Gavin," Nate warned, his voice low but lacking any real bite. He pulled me closer, his hand resting protectively on my hip.
"Right, right. Business. Professionalism. I’m a lawyer, I swear," Gavin muttered, though he was still grinning. "Theodore has the digital trail secured, Nate. The Tates are officially in checkmate, and the data from Mila's phone is being recovered as we speak. Now, can we please get some actual coffee? I’m pretty sure I’m currently running on spite, three hours of sleep, and frozen vegetables."