Chapter 87
Nathan's POV
I stood at the window of the east wing, hidden behind the heavy velvet curtains, as Claire's car pulled up to the family estate. My breath caught in my throat when I saw her step out, looking tired but still impossibly elegant. Her bodyguard—Daniel Brown—was right behind her, closer than any employee should stand. Something about the way his eyes never left her made my stomach twist.
"What are you doing lurking in the shadows, Nathan?" I muttered to myself, but I couldn't tear my gaze away.
Claire moved toward the steps, distracted by some papers in her hand. She wasn't paying attention to her footing, and I tensed, ready to run out and catch her if needed. But before I could move, Daniel's hand shot out, steadying her elbow with a grip that looked both firm and gentle.
"Careful," I heard him say, his voice carrying through the evening air. "Those steps are slippery."
Claire looked up at him, surprised. "Thanks," she said, and there was something in her voice I'd never heard before. Something soft.
My chest tightened. This wasn't just professional concern from a bodyguard. The way his fingers lingered on her arm, the way his eyes scanned her face—it was personal. Too personal.
I watched them enter the house, Daniel holding the door for her. When they disappeared from view, I moved quickly through the hallway to the main entrance. I needed to see more, to understand what was happening between them.
By the time I reached the foyer, Claire was removing her shoes. Daniel crouched down, setting her indoor slippers perfectly in place for her to step into. What shocked me wasn't his action—we had staff who did that—but Claire's response. She slipped her feet into the slippers and then, without a word, took her Christian Louboutin heels and placed them in the shoe cabinet herself.
Claire never put away her own shoes. Ever. Maria always did that.
"You don't need to wait," Claire told Daniel, her voice back to its usual professional tone. "I'll see you tomorrow morning at eight."
Daniel hesitated, his blue-gray eyes still fixed on her. "Are you sure? I can stay if—"
"That won't be necessary," Claire cut him off, but not harshly.
He nodded, reluctantly turning to leave. "Goodnight, Ms. Stanton."
"Goodnight, Daniel."
Daniel. Not Mr. Brown. Just Daniel.
I stepped back into the shadows as he left, watching Claire's face. There was a moment—just a brief flicker—where something like regret crossed her features as she watched him go. Then her mask slipped back into place, and she headed toward the living room.
Two hours later, after dinner, I found Claire in the small sitting room. She was curled up in an armchair, reading something on her tablet. Her indoor slippers dangled from her toes—a little habit she had when she was relaxed. It struck me then that I hadn't seen her this relaxed in months.
"Working late?" I asked, entering the room.
Claire looked up, smiling when she saw me. "Nathan. Didn't hear you come in."
I sat across from her. "You seem different lately."
"Different how?" Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I don't know. Just... different." I paused, watching her carefully. "Your bodyguard seems very attentive."
Claire's fingers tightened on her tablet. "He's good at his job."
"Is that all it is? A job?" The words came out sharper than I intended.
"What else would it be?" Her voice was cool, controlled.
I leaned forward. "You never put your own shoes away before. Maria always does that."
Claire stiffened. "I didn't want to treat him like staff."
"But he is staff, Claire." I couldn't keep the edge from my voice. "Why him? Why now? You've never wanted a bodyguard before."
"After what Hannah did—"
"This started before we knew about Hannah," I cut in. "During your accident, wasn't it? He was with you the whole time."
Claire's eyes flashed. "He saved my life."
"And now you trust him." I said it like an accusation. Claire trusting anyone was rare—almost unheard of.
She stood up abruptly. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Nathan."
I grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk past me. "Be careful, Claire," I said, my voice low. "I've seen how he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching."
"And how's that?" Her pulse raced under my fingers.
"Like he owns you." I held her gaze, feeling something dark and jealous rise inside me. "Like he's already had you."
Claire yanked her hand away, her cheeks flushing. "You're crossing a line."
"Am I wrong?" I pressed, standing to face her.
"You look sick," she said instead of answering, changing the subject with practiced ease. "Are you feeling okay?"
I stared at her lips—fuller than usual, almost bruised-looking. Her skin had a different glow, her posture was slightly off. Little things most people would miss, but not me. Never me. I wanted to touch her face, to kiss those lips and see if they tasted different now.
"Just didn't sleep well," I lied, stepping back before I did something we'd both regret. "You should get some rest too. You look... tired."
She nodded, relief evident in her eyes at the change of subject. "Goodnight, Nathan."
"Goodnight, Claire." I watched her walk away, her steps a little uneven, her usual perfect posture slightly compromised.
Something had changed in her. Someone had changed her. And I was going to find out exactly what was happening between my sister and her so-called bodyguard.