HIS UNWANTED WIFE

Chapter 13

Sabrina climbed the stairs slowly, acutely aware of Nathan's presence looming just behind her. His steps were steady, his body radiating heat and dominance that prickled at her skin despite the space between them.

Halfway up, she paused.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Alyssa darting out from the long hallway downstairs, holding something in her hands. It looked like a tablet, and the urgency in the girl's movement made Sabrina instinctively straighten.

Their eyes met.

Alyssa had been looking for her. Sabrina could tell instantly.

She felt Nathan's hand slip to her hips, grounding her. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm, his breath grazing her shoulder from the step below.

"Auntie Sabrina!" Alyssa called out, beaming.

Nathan glanced back and exhaled as realization settled in. He turned slightly toward the girl. "Can I borrow your aunt for a moment?" he asked as Alyssa eagerly climbed the stairs toward them.

"Can I just ask Auntie Sabrina something first?" she replied, reaching them in just a few quick steps.

"Of course you can, sweetie," Sabrina said gently, stepping around Nathan and descending the few stairs to meet her.

"Look!" Alyssa grinned, holding up the image of an animated movie. "Will you watch it with us in the theater room?"

Sabrina heard Nathan release a slow, heavy breath behind her.

"Of course I will," she said warmly. "Can I meet you there in a minute? I just need to talk to your uncle really quick."

"Yah!" Alyssa squealed and turned to skip off in the direction she had come from, her energy trailing behind her like sunshine.

The second she was gone, Nathan caught Sabrina's hand and gave it a light tug, guiding her to walk ahead of him.

As soon as they stepped into the bedroom, Sabrina rushed into the bathroom, her pulse quickening. Her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths. She was already unraveling. Anticipation burned beneath her skin like wildfire. She couldn't take much more. Every time Nathan touched her, even casually, it felt like she was being dragged into his gravity—into a world built on his terms, not hers. And she didn't know how to stay grounded inside it.

Vivian and Desmond were the ones her father had blackmailed. Nathan had been dragged into the fallout. But he was the one living in the wreckage with her. He was the one carrying the consequences now.

Now she knew for certain—Nathan didn't deserve an unwanted wife. And she felt awful for ever being that burden.

She washed her makeup off slowly, watching her reflection fade as she tied her hair up in a bun. The exhaustion clung to her bones, but the ache in her chest was heavier.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Nathan was sprawled across the bed, eyes closed. He was still dressed in his full suit, shoes on, arms folded behind his head like a man who had collapsed into stillness out of sheer necessity.

She stood there for a moment, watching him.

She thought about how stressed he'd been in the office, the way his shoulders had tensed beneath his shirt, and the sharpness in his voice. Then he'd come home—to his mother's tears and questions. And still, now... he looked so calm.

So calm, compared to the constant storm he lived in.

The urge to undress him, to ease that pressure with her hands, crept up before she could stop it. She imagined gently peeling his jacket off, loosening his tie, massaging the tension from his shoulders until the burden melted from his body.