A wedding? Not just any wedding. Nathan was talking about our wedding. Just outside the door, he seemed reluctant about having a child, and now he wanted a marriage. I looked at him again. The corners of his mouth barely lifted, and his eyes contained that glow of evil. He was bluffing. Suggesting marriage was his tactic for me to freak out and say no.
Why was he doing that? If he didn’t want it, he could have just said no.
“Splendid. It’s advisable to marry first before having a child. Marriage is an old-time tradition. Our family isn’t very religious, but I am not against making it official on paper. When are you planning to have it?” Mr. Sinclair asked.
“We’ll discuss a date after the engagement party. For now, I only want you to prepare a prenuptial agreement. We need to protect our assets now, don’t we?” said Nathan.
I wasn’t against the idea of a prenup. However, the way he had said it was very insulting. I thought we had created a bond.
“Excuse me, but we had never discussed marriage or when we were going to have a child,” I dared to interrupt.
“We have all the time in the world to discuss it,” said Nathan, making himself comfortable on a rotating chair.
“Pardon me. I am muddled.” Mr. Sinclair tried to keep smiling. “I thought this is what you both wanted.”
“Is it?” Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Is this about what I want? Or is this about what you all want?”
Nathan had us all perplexed. He was fine a while ago. Was he experiencing one of his mood swings? There was a mention of that in Frank’s book. He had described his anger as an unforeseeable sea storm that consumes all it touches.
“Son,” Mr. Sinclair began. He was more confused than I was. “You came here by yourself to announce this good news. Why are you acting like someone is forcing this upon you?”
I had the same question in mind. However, I was too afraid to ask the man who was more capricious than the weather of the mountains.
“Are you sure you’re not comprehending my point?” Nathan asked. He was behaving as if his father and I were the masterminds behind his madness.
“No.” Mr. Sinclair responded calmly. “Stop talking in riddles and cut to the chase.”
Nathan cracked his knuckles and rested his back against the chair before beginning. “I know what you have done, Dad. It is all too good to be true.”
“What have I done?” His father again asked patiently. He must have learned a monk’s level of patience, but I was completely losing it. Nathan’s words made no sense. I wanted to slap him across the face and demand an explanation for his sudden behavior change. Who the hell did he think he was?
Nathan roared with laughter. His amusement was concerning. The disease must be affecting his head. I waited for Mr. Sinclair to say something before declaring it a medical problem.
“Please, Dad. You and Mom hired an actress to seduce me,” Nathan accused. “When nothing worked on me, you gave her a depressing backstory to make me feel for her.” He clapped. “Well played. I almost fell for it.”
What in the freaking hell was he talking about? What drugs was he on to accuse me of being a paid actress?
“Son. I have only just met Miss Walter. What depressing story are you talking about? Your mother also knows nothing about her. She said that your Aunt Rose is the one who brought her here,” Mr. Sinclair explained.
“Save it.” Nathan rose from his seat and circled me. “I understand this now. A girl with an attitude comes to take care of me. She pisses me off and rejects me. And, right when I am confused between firing her or making her mine, she tells me a made-up sob story to gain my sympathy. She now feels so generous that she wants to have my child to give me and my parents the much-needed happiness we lack. The girl seems fine with everything until I bring up a wedding and a prenup. It all seems too good to be true, doesn’t it?” He stopped before me and stared into my eyes. “Game over, Amelia Walter.”
Nathan’s allegations had left me speechless. I never thought he would take my niceness as an act. I wanted to say something, but the desire to defend myself died somewhere before it could reach my throat.
“Son, I have no idea what her story is. Believe me, no one has asked her to do this. Whatever she is telling you must be the truth. Your mother and I have no part in this,” Mr. Sinclair insisted.
Nathan ignored his father and made me look at him. “You’re not being followed by the mafia, right? That phone call was a trick to soften my heart. The time was too perfect to be real. How did you know I sunbathed on that balcony during that specific time during my better health days? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“I didn’t know that.” Those words escaped my mouth like a reflex. “I wasn’t expecting a call from the mafia and only wished to leave. You intervened. I didn’t ask you to do anything for me.” My answer was as real as the tears forming in my eyes.
“Save those crocodile tears for someone else. I am done with the lies, Amelia,” said Nathan. He forcefully took the engagement ring off my finger. “If you don’t prove your innocence within forty-eight hours, I am afraid there is no need for an engagement party because you will no longer be my fiance.”