His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

18

I watched her go, then turned my attention back to the papers in front of me, the sound of rustling pages filling the silence. Nathan shifted in his seat, finally speaking up. "Doris, don't get the wrong idea." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I'm only helping Sienna because I owe her. If it weren't for her convincing my aunt and uncle to take me in when I was a kid. I'd be dead." *

My hand froze mid-page, the words sinking in. Sienna had told him that she was the one who persuaded my parents to adopt him?

Nathan continued, his voice quiet but earnest. "She's always been like a sister to me. When I said I liked her, it wasn't real. It was just because I was upset.... with you."

I blinked, still processing his words. It wasn't Sienna who convinced my parents to adopt him. It was my mother, out of her own kindness, who had taken him in. Sienna had lied, manipulated him. No wonder Nathan had been so ungrateful all these years. Nathan tried to break the tension by cutting a piece of steak from my plate, pushing it toward me. "I've contacted the best wedding company in the world," he said, cautiously hopeful. "We're getting married next

month. The designer is sending over your dress this afternoon."

He smiled weakly. "Will you try it on?"

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His Knees His Pleas. B Our Soet's in Peace

I shook my head, refusing both the steak and the wedding.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

"Nathan," I said softly but firmly, "there's Oliver between us, and we can never go back to how things were."

1 The reception hall buzzed with chatter, clinking glasses, and soft music playing in the background. I had decided to attend tonight, though every fiber of my being wanted to avoid it. Now that I was ready to take over the company, building my network was no longer an option-it was essential. These people, their connections, would be key to my future success.

As I stepped inside, my gaze scanned the room, and almost immediately, I spotted Nathan and Sienna at the center of attention. They were surrounded by partygoers, all eager to shower them with praise. The compliments flowed effortlessly-one person praised Sienna's successful shoot earlier that day, while another marveled at Nathan's reputation as a wealthy and refined gentleman.

Nathan, holding a glass of red wine, looked detached, his smile not reaching his eyes. I could see him scanning the crowd for something-or someone. And then his eyes found me.

With a sudden determination, Nathan excused himself and made a direct path toward me, his gaze never wavering.

"Doris, you're here," he said, and I noticed a flicker of light in his eyes. He reached for my hand, clasping it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Later, I'll tell everyone that you're my wife, and we'll have a wedding."

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