Chapter 53 Moving in with Nathan
Nathan flagged down a taxi at O'Hare and rode with Chloe back to her old apartment first so she could pack up her things. His plan was to drop her off, head back to his mansion to inform Mason of the new living arrangement, and then return to pick her up.
Chloe had no objections. She practically hopped out of the cab and scampered up the stairs to get organized.
Truthfully, she didn't have much to pack—just the few elegant new outfits Nathan had bought for her, some basic toiletries, and a handful of personal items. She finished shoving everything into a single suitcase in under thirty minutes. She sat on the worn living room sofa, her legs swinging happily as she waited for Nathan to return.
Meanwhile, Nathan arrived at his sprawling mansion and immediately went to work preparing the primary guest room.
He stripped the mattress, washed a fresh set of expensive cotton sheets and duvet covers, dried them, and meticulously made the bed with military precision. Then, he paced around the room, scrutinizing every corner and wiping down the mahogany nightstands.
The house had been kept reasonably tidy during his week away—Mason had clearly tried to do his chores—but a few corners were still messy. Nathan painstakingly cleaned them up, desperate to make the space perfect for her.
While he was violently scrubbing a smudge off the baseboards, Mason walked through the front door from school.
Seeing his father, the teenager practically jogged over, his face breaking into a relieved smile. "Dad, you're back! Next time you drive up to visit Grandpa and Grandma's graves, you have to take me with you."
"I promise, I'll definitely take you next time," Nathan replied, offering a warm smile as he continued to wipe dust off a cabinet. "By the way... there's something important I need to talk to you about."
"What is it?" Mason tossed his heavy backpack onto the living room sofa, turned around, grabbed a microfiber cloth from the bathroom, and walked back in to help his dad clean.
"It's about Chloe. The girl you met at the steakhouse last week," Nathan said, setting his cloth down. He looked at Mason directly, his dark eyes serious, his voice dropping to a soft, cautious register. "I'm planning to have her move in with us."
Mason’s hand stopped mid-wipe. "Are you going to marry her?"
"Yes," Nathan replied without a single second of hesitation.
Mason frowned. "Does she know about your health condition?"
"I haven't explicitly told her yet," Nathan admitted quietly. "But... I don't think it would change her mind."
"Oh." Mason nodded slowly, lowering his head to vigorously scrub the glass cabinet door. "Well, as long as you're genuinely happy... I don't mind."
Nathan let out a heavy, shuddering exhale. "Thank you, Mason."
"Why are you thanking me for your own marriage?" Mason muttered, stubbornly refusing to look up. "So... do I have to call her 'Mom'?"
Nathan chuckled softly. "No. Absolutely not. She specifically said to just call her by her first name. Calling her Mom would probably send her into a crisis about feeling old."
"Alright," Mason replied flatly.
Seeing that Mason hadn't completely rebelled against the idea, Nathan’s mood lifted exponentially. As he went back to cleaning the room, he actually caught himself subconsciously humming an old jazz tune from his college days.
Watching his usually stoic, heavily guarded father acting like a man completely lost in the throes of a high school romance, Mason couldn't help but smile faintly.
He honestly just wanted Nathan to be happy. He was so goddamn tired of walking past the master bedroom late at night and seeing his father sitting alone in the pitch black, staring blankly at the wall with completely vacant eyes. He was exhausted by the permanent, crushing sorrow that always lurked just beneath his father's polite smiles.
Compared to the abstract ghost of a mother he had never met, Mason violently preferred the living, breathing reality of his father having a new life and no longer rotting in isolation.
He felt he was grown up now. He was almost fourteen. He was almost a man. Even if this young stepmother turned out to be a cruel, manipulative gold digger, he could handle it. He could protect himself. And if his dad eventually had younger kids with her, Mason swore he would be kind to them, just for Nathan's sake.
As long as she wasn't a complete monster, he was willing to tolerate her. He was willing to accept anyone who could actually bring the light back into his father's dead eyes and stitch their fractured family back together.
"Come with me to pick her up, okay?" Nathan asked from the hallway, his voice brimming with a terrifying, uncharacteristic anticipation.
"She's moving in today?" Mason blinked, genuinely surprised. "Isn't this moving incredibly fast?"
"Yes," Nathan nodded, grabbing his car keys. "She wants to come home."
"Alright. If that's what you want," Mason agreed, grabbing his jacket. But as he followed his dad out to the Bentley, a dark, cynical thought crept into the teenager's mind.
This woman clearly figured out he has health problems, yet she is aggressively eager to marry him and move into his massive mansion immediately? Is this really just true love? Or is she trying to lock down his estate before he strokes out?
Mason glanced sideways at his father. Nathan was practically glowing, completely immersed in absolute, unguarded happiness. A deep spike of anxiety hit the boy.
My dad is an absolute genius, but when it comes to love, he is incredibly gullible. What if he's being completely played?
"Dad," Mason asked casually as they got into the car. "Once she moves in, are you going to hand over your bank accounts for her to manage?"
"Of course," Nathan answered instantly, starting the engine.
"And your investment portfolios?"
"Those are hers, too."
"What about this house? You aren't seriously going to add her name to the deed, are you?"
"Absolutely," Nathan smiled, checking his mirrors.
Watching his father's sunny, completely eager willingness to surrender his entire empire, Mason silently clutched his chest in the passenger seat.
Oh my god. A brilliant, middle-aged man in the throes of romantic infatuation is a terrifying liability! He is going to be completely fleeced!
By the time the father and son pulled up to Chloe's old apartment, dusk had settled over Chicago.
The moment they walked through the door, Mason stood in the entryway, ruthlessly scrutinizing Chloe from head to toe.
He had seen her at the steakhouse before, but he had been too angry to truly look at her. Now, upon closer inspection, she was undeniably, dangerously beautiful. Her skin was dewy and fresh, and her large, golden-brown eyes sparkled when she looked at someone, practically brimming with infinite, intoxicating affection.
Looking into those eyes, even a hostile teenager like Mason almost fell into the hypnotic illusion that this woman deeply, genuinely cared about him. No wonder Nathan had fallen so completely.
This woman is definitely an apex predator, Mason thought to himself, narrowing his eyes. I have to stay on absolute high alert.
"Mason! Did you come to pick me up, too?" Chloe beamed the absolute second she saw her little brother, practically bouncing forward to greet him.
Well, she seems friendly enough, Mason begrudgingly admitted to himself. But he maintained a solid, icy front. "I didn't want to come. Dad dragged me here."
"Well, thank you anyway!" Chloe didn't miss a beat, her smile remaining blindingly bright.
"Let's go." Nathan reached down to grab the heavy suitcase she had packed.
Chloe immediately lunged to snatch it back, insisting she could carry it, but Nathan violently refused to let her strain herself, aggressively tugging the handle away from her.
After thirty seconds of watching two grown adults practically wrestling over a piece of luggage, Mason couldn't stand the second-hand embarrassment anymore. He walked over, shoved both of their hands away, and grabbed the handle himself. "It literally has wheels on it. Just pull it along the ground."
"Oh. Right," Nathan blinked, smoothly taking the handle back from his son. He walked out the door with a cheerful, springy step, with Chloe happily trailing right behind him, a look of absolute, sickening bliss on her face.
Mason trailed behind them, letting out a heavy, internal sigh.
Has my dad always been this unbelievably stupid? Have I just never noticed this pathetic side of him before?
When they arrived back at the mansion, Nathan proudly led Chloe down the hallway to the impeccably clean room he had prepared.
"You'll stay in here," Nathan said softly, gesturing to the space. "My master suite is right next door, and Mason's room is directly across the hall. If you don't like the lighting, there are two larger empty suites upstairs. Would you like to go up and take a look?"
Chloe glanced around the pristine guest room. She wasn't dissatisfied in the slightest, but she immediately turned to him, tilting her head with innocent, wide eyes. "Can't I just stay in the same room as you?"
Her brazen question nearly made Mason, who was overtly eavesdropping in the hallway, slam his own head directly into the doorframe.
Through the crack in the door, Mason watched a peculiar, dark flush violently spread across his stoic father's neck and cheeks. Nathan cleared his throat nervously. "Let's... wait a little longer."
"How long?" Chloe smiled a wicked, predatory smile. She reached out, brazenly hooking her pinky finger around Nathan's, giving it a gentle, demanding tug.
"Hmmm..." Nathan completely lost his train of thought, staring at her lips, utterly unsure how much time he actually needed to rebuild his psychological defenses.
Chloe didn't give him a chance to think. She took a deliberate step forward, smoothly wrapping her arms completely around his neck, pressing her soft body flush against his rigid chest. "Alright," she purred sweetly. "I won't rush you. Just let me know when you're finally ready."
"Mhm," Nathan nodded, completely hypnotized.
"Then... can I get a kiss?" Seeing him so incredibly flustered and obedient, she felt a violent surge of absolute adoration. She tilted her chin up, leaning in to claim his mouth.
"Don't..." Nathan whispered weakly, his hands coming up to grip her waist. "Mason is literally right outside."
"Just a quick one."
"No..." Nathan’s half-hearted protest died instantly against her lips. He was completely unaware that, to the teenager watching from the hall, the terrifying Professor Archer currently looked exactly like a shy, completely whipped schoolboy being ruthlessly teased by the head cheerleader.
Mason couldn't physically bear to watch the absolute destruction of his father's dignity for another second. He aggressively shook his head and stomped loudly into the living room.
"I'm starving!" Mason yelled at the top of his lungs. "What are we having for dinner?!"
"Oh! Coming!" Nathan’s slightly panicked, breathless voice immediately echoed from the guest room.