Chapter 63 Nathan Urges Michael to Let Go of His Resentment
"I swear, I'll pay you back for all the lawyer fees the absolute second I'm out of here," George pleaded, leaning forward in the dingy detention center visiting room, his weathered hands clasped in front of him.
"So that's why I haven't heard a single word from you in nearly a month—you've been locked up in holding this entire time? George, why on earth didn't you contact me sooner?!" Chloe asked, genuinely horrified by the bruise still fading on his jaw.
"I genuinely didn't realize it would get this legally serious at first. That bastard was aggressively dragging a terrified high school girl into a dark alley late at night. I was just doing the right thing. Who the hell knew it would turn out like this?" George was deeply frustrated, running a hand through his greying hair.
He had honestly thought the cops would just hold him for a few days to cool off and then release him. He never expected the wealthy jerk to actually hire a bulldog lawyer and sue him for assault.
"Okay, you say you were just doing the right thing, but what about the girl you supposedly saved? Can she testify?" Chloe pressed, her mind already racing through legal defenses.
"How the hell should I know? The absolute second I pinned the guy to the concrete, the girl screamed and sprinted off into the night. I was way too busy beating the absolute crap out of that bastard to ask for her name."
"You already saved her! He was pinned! Why the hell did you keep hitting him?!"
"Because he managed to hit me first! I had to defend myself!" George argued, his voice ringing with defensive righteousness. "How was I supposed to know the rich guy was such a pathetic weakling that his jaw would break?!"
Chloe looked at George's massive, heavily muscled physique, completely honed from twenty years of intense, grueling manual labor on construction sites. Very few modern men could withstand more than two of his punches without going down.
She let out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples. "Alright, George. I'll find you a good lawyer."
"Thank you so much, Chloe," George breathed, shooting her a look of profound, desperate gratitude. "Just... please don't tell Michael about any of this."
"Why not?" Chloe frowned, deeply puzzled.
"Because it's completely humiliating," George said, scratching his head with a bitter, wry smile. "After twenty-three years of doing absolutely nothing right by that boy, I finally try to do one good, heroic thing in this new world, and I completely screw it up and land myself in jail. I'm already too deeply ashamed to even look him in the eye. If I actually end up in a prison uniform, I'll be completely ruined."
George lowered his heavy head, his shoulders slumping. "What can I, as his completely useless father, possibly give him in this new life? Nothing at all. Just more burdens."
"Don't spiral into despair just yet. I'll bring a lawyer to see you first thing tomorrow," Chloe offered a few more firm words of comfort before standing up and leaving the bleak conference room.
Nathan was waiting patiently for her outside in the precinct lobby. As they walked to the car, she quickly summarized the entire disastrous situation.
Nathan nodded calmly, already pulling out his phone. "I have a highly reliable corporate defense lawyer on retainer. I'll put you in touch with his firm shortly. He can easily get the charges reduced or dropped entirely."
"Great. You are incredibly dependable, Professor," Chloe complimented him, looping her arm through his as they walked. "You know, I'm finally starting to realize that it's actually incredibly beneficial that you are so much older than me now."
"Oh? In what specific way?" Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because we completely skipped the agonizing phase of violently struggling and suffering through our twenties together, and jumped straight to the part where I get to enjoy all your hard-earned rewards!" Chloe declared triumphantly. "Look at you now—massively successful in your career, ridiculously wealthy, with a gorgeous young beauty like me permanently glued to your side. How impressive is that?!"
Nathan couldn't help but let out a deep, booming laugh. "Are you specifically complimenting me, or are you just complimenting yourself?"
"Both, obviously," Chloe chuckled.
Nathan smiled fondly, reaching out to gently ruffle her hair.
Chloe batted his hand away, her expression turning serious again. "Nathan... are you really not going to tell Michael about his father?"
"Didn't you just explicitly promise George that you wouldn't?"
"I never explicitly promised him anything! I actually really want to tell him," Chloe argued. "I don't think Michael is fundamentally as heartless as he pretends to be."
Nathan raised a single, assessing eyebrow. His dark gaze was entirely calm as he looked down at her. "You seem to think quite highly of your boss."
Chloe immediately sensed the subtle, dangerous shift in Nathan's tone—a flicker of pure, territorial jealousy. She instantly backpedaled. "I mean, he's a decent guy, but he's absolutely not even half as brilliant or handsome as you!"
Seeing her lightning-fast, terrified reaction, Nathan couldn't help but smile, completely satisfied. "If you strongly feel that telling him is the right move, then go ahead and make the call."
"Alright!" Chloe immediately pulled out her phone and called Michael, aggressively recounting the entire, disastrous alleyway incident without skipping a single detail.
Forty minutes later, Michael arrived at the precinct. He didn't come alone. He had brought his own ruthless, high-priced defense attorney with him.
Michael efficiently sent the lawyer straight into the holding cells to aggressively consult with George, while he chose to stay outside in the cold lobby to speak with Nathan.
"Mr. Archer, I will completely handle the financial and legal aspects of this matter myself. There is absolutely no need for you to trouble your own legal team," Michael said, his voice completely stiff and professional.
"It's no trouble at all. I was simply being helpful by recommending a contact," Nathan replied smoothly, offering the younger man a gentle, perceptive smile. "Your father really isn't a bad man, Michael. He was just trying to protect someone."
Michael’s jaw tightened. "Are you here to aggressively persuade me to forgive him, too, Mr. Archer?" he asked, his tone dripping with defensive sarcasm.
"Deep down, you already analytically know your father didn't deliberately do anything wrong twenty-three years ago. He was a victim of the exact same anomaly," Nathan urged softly, his voice dropping into a register of profound, shared understanding. "What you are actually incapable of letting go of is the agonizing unfairness and the profound hurt that fate has arbitrarily forced upon you. Michael, holding onto this suffocating resentment serves absolutely no purpose anymore. You need to look forward."
Michael's rigid posture was already visibly wavering, yet he stubbornly dug his heels in. "But I have fundamentally grown accustomed to hating him. It's how I survived! Just as you grew completely accustomed to waiting in the dark for Chloe."
Nathan glanced across the lobby at Chloe, who was waiting near the doors. His dark gaze was incredibly tender, and the sharp corners of his mouth curved into a breathtaking, absolute smile. Turning back to Michael, his expression was completely serene.
"But I successfully waited, Michael. And she came back. And you have successfully grown up. You survived. It is finally time to let it go."
Michael's eyes immediately filled with a violent, agonizing struggle.
It was true. He had grown up. He was a wealthy, successful executive. He no longer required the burning fuel of resentment to survive the cold nights. Yet a massive, stubborn lump remained lodged in his throat, painful and completely unjust. Why the hell had these things happened to him? Why had he been forced to raise himself?
Not knowing exactly who to blame for the tragedy of his childhood, he had violently clung to his resentment against his father. But everyone knew George wasn't actually at fault. Even the great Nathan Archer knew it.
Nathan slowly reached out, placing a heavy, grounding hand firmly on Michael's tense shoulder. "Michael... you deliberately brought an expensive lawyer to violently defend him tonight. That explicitly proves you don't actually hate him nearly as much as you desperately want to think you do, doesn't it?"
Michael pressed his lips together stubbornly, refusing to meet Nathan's eyes. "I don't know."
"It's entirely okay, Michael," Nathan said with a soft, reassuring smile. "You absolutely do not have to force yourself to violently hate him, and you do not have to magically forgive him overnight. Just treat him like a distant family member you are legally required to deal with. Try to slowly get to know him again."
"Get to know him again?" Michael asked, finally looking up, completely confused by the logic.
Nathan nodded. "Yes. Strip away the titles. Treat him exactly like an ordinary, flawed man you just met. See if your personalities actually get along, and see if you can rebuild a basic, functional relationship from scratch."
Michael remained completely silent, but the agonizing tension in his shoulders finally began to drop, his expression gradually clearing as he absorbed Nathan's pragmatic suggestion.
No one was at fault for the tragedy of the past. It was time to drop the knife.
If this man turned out to be decent, he would treat him as an awkward friend. If they fundamentally didn't get along, he would just keep his professional distance.
Perhaps then, his completely exhausted heart could finally find some peace and no longer be actively tormented by decades of old, rotting resentment.
Having successfully mediated the crisis, Nathan and Chloe left the precinct first, completely leaving the legal mess in Michael's capable hands.
Driving the Bentley through the neon-lit Chicago night, Nathan remained hyper-focused on the road. Chloe sat in the passenger seat, completely mesmerized, watching the harsh streetlights play across his sharply defined, incredibly handsome profile.
She couldn't help but speak up. "Honestly, only you could successfully guide a stubborn wall like Michael with such absolute, terrifying patience. Whenever I casually mention George's name, he immediately gets violently defensive and yells at me."
"Michael is essentially a deeply wounded, kindhearted boy who just needs a logical off-ramp," Nathan murmured softly, his eyes on the traffic.
"Oh, really? Literally an hour ago you aggressively forbade me from praising him, and now you're sitting here defending his character yourself!" Chloe retorted, completely unimpressed by his hypocrisy.
Nathan smiled, a dark, wicked gleam in his eye. "I never forbade you from praising him. I simply strongly suggested you recognize my superior value."
"I absolutely don't buy it," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
After a quiet moment, she completely undid her seatbelt, sliding across the leather bench seat until she was practically sitting in his lap. She leaned intimately close, her breath ghosting over his ear. "So... can I finally sleep in your bed tonight, Professor?"
Nathan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened violently. "Mason is home," he whispered, his voice incredibly strained. "It's really not convenient."
"When exactly is that kid not home?!" Chloe retorted, her hands already aggressively wandering over his chest, her fingers playing with the buttons of his dress shirt. "Do you honestly expect me to just wait in the guest room forever?!"
"Chloe, stop it," Nathan hissed, glancing nervously at the rearview mirror before aggressively grabbing her wandering hand to pin it against his chest. "I'm driving."
"I'm just being highly proactive so you can finally achieve your dream of becoming a dad sooner!" Chloe teased relentlessly, her eyes sparkling with wicked intent.
A violent, dark flush instantly swept across Nathan's cheekbones. "Mason literally just screamed at us that he absolutely does not want a little brother or sister."
"Who the hell cares about his teenage tantrums? He's basically just my bratty little brother anyway. Do we seriously need a middle schooler's written permission to have kids?" Chloe argued with such absolute, ruthless conviction that Nathan actually felt she had a completely valid point.
"Huh? What do you say, Professor? Can we finally do it?" Seeing no immediate rejection, Chloe aggressively nudged his shoulder, pushing him to the breaking point.
Nathan finally completely relented, letting out a ragged, defeated sigh. "If you want it that badly, then just come take it. Why do you insist on asking so many goddamn questions?"
"Fine! You asked for it!" Chloe was finally, utterly satisfied. She withdrew her hands, a terrifyingly sly, predatory smile playing at the corners of her lips. She looked exactly like a feral kitten eagerly waiting to completely devour its prey, making Nathan’s heart hammer violently against his ribs and his fingers physically itch to pull her into his lap.
That evening, when they finally arrived back at the mansion, Mason had already finished dinner and was locked in the study, doing his advanced homework with his headphones on.
Perfect.
Chloe immediately locked herself in her bathroom. She took a scalding, luxurious shower, aggressively sprayed his absolute favorite vanilla perfume on her pulse points, and slipped into a completely sheer, black silk spaghetti-strap nightgown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
She twirled in front of the full-length mirror, completely admiring her own lethal reflection.
She was absolutely determined. Tonight was going to be the night he finally broke!