Chapter 21
Nathan's POV
A few weeks had passed.
Things had been… hectic.
Zane and I had been going on a lot of dates.
And for some reason, mom hadn't asked about Melissa.
Not once.
I didn't know if that made things easier… or worse.
The flowers had stopped coming too.
For a few days now.
Not that I missed them.
They were starting to get on my nerves anyway.
But…
maybe I missed the chocolates.
Or the poems.
I shook the thought away.
I didn't want to think about it.
---
I was at a bowling alley with Bianca and Brian.
Brian had just gotten dumped by his girlfriend—or sugar mummy, as Bianca liked to call her.
Honestly…
I saw it coming.
My phone rang.
Melissa.
"Hey," I said.
"Hi," she replied. "I'm at your house."
I blinked.
"What? You're joking," I said, letting out a small laugh.
"I'm not," she said simply. "I came to see you."
"Oh… I'm not home," I said. "I'm out with friends."
Bianca rolled the ball down the lane.
"Tell me where you are," Melissa said. "I'll come meet you."
I hesitated.
Then told her.
"Okay, I'll be there," she said, and hung up.
Brian turned to me immediately.
"Bro, I'm going through heartbreak here and you're inviting your girlfriend?"
"Who's bringing a girlfriend?" Bianca asked, walking back.
Brian pointed at me like he was reporting a crime.
I laughed.
"She's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend."
Bianca crossed her arms.
"We'll be the judge of that when she gets here."
I hesitated.
Then looked at both of them.
"Guys… I have something to tell you."
They both turned to me.
"I've never really had friends growing up," I said slowly. "And I'm grateful for you guys."
They exchanged a look.
"And… I want to be honest."
A pause.
"I'm in a relationship."
Brian blinked.
Then groaned, dropping back onto the bench.
"You really like stealing the spotlight, don't you, Nathan?"
Bianca hit him lightly.
"Oh, shut up, Brian. Like we didn't all see your own relationship crashing."
He sighed dramatically, lying flat.
"So who is she?" Bianca asked, turning back to me.
I looked at them.
My throat felt tight.
"It's not a she…"
They both stared.
"It's a he," I said quietly.
They heard it.
There was a pause.
Then—
Brian sat up.
"So who's he?"
"Yeah," Bianca added. "Who's he?"
I frowned slightly.
"You guys are… okay with that?"
Bianca blinked.
"Fine with what?" she said, then laughed.
Brian grinned.
"I always knew."
Bianca nodded.
"Same."
I stared at them.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Brian said. "You were never into girls. You never looked at any girl twice."
Bianca leaned forward.
"Now tell us who it is."
I hesitated.
Then—
"It's Zane."
Silence.
Brian froze.
Bianca leaned back slowly.
"I knew there was something," she said. "The way you got into his car at that party…"
Before I could respond—
my phone rang again.
Melissa.
"I'm here," she said.
I looked up.
And there she was.
Standing at the entrance.
She waved.
I raised my hand slightly.
She started walking toward us.
"Hey," she said.
"Oh damn," Brian muttered, already sitting up properly.
--
Nathan's POV
Melissa sat down with us.
She got along with Bianca and Brian pretty quickly.
Brian, on the other hand, was trying to rizz her.
Badly.
I had to admit though—dating that senior had given him confidence.
Misplaced… but still.
Melissa laughed politely at most of his attempts.
Bianca seemed to like her.
They even went bowling together for a bit.
"Hey, Nathan," Melissa said after a while, standing up. "Come out with me for a smoke."
I don't smoke I thought.
But I knew that wasn't the point.
She didn't wait.
She just walked out.
"I'll be right back," I said to Bianca and Brian before following her.
---
Outside—
she was actually smoking.
I walked up to her.
"I never pegged you as someone who smokes," I said.
"A lot of people don't," she replied.
She held the cigarette out toward me.
I shook my head.
"I don't smoke."
She smiled slightly and pulled it back, bringing it to her lips.
Silence settled between us.
Heavy.
"So…" I started.
"I like Kieran."
The words came out suddenly.
Flat.
Direct.
I looked at her.
"The reason I agreed to the date," she continued, "when my mum suggested it… was so I could meet him."
She exhaled slowly.
"I wanted to get to him through you."
I wasn't surprised.
Not really.
I had seen the way she looked at him that day.
"I'm sorry," she said.
I leaned back against the wall.
"What are you being sorry for?"
"I wanted to use you."
I shrugged slightly.
"No problem. You alright."
She studied me for a second.
Then took another drag.
"So… how are you and Zane?" she asked, a small smile forming.
I sighed.
"Fine."
"Just fine?" she asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.
I didn't answer.
She let it go.
"So, you and Kieran?" I said instead.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Like I said, I met him at a gala. I was his dance partner."
Her expression softened.
"There was something about him that night."
A pause.
"Even though he doesn't remember."
She looked at me again.
"Can you help me?"
I frowned slightly.
"To get together with him," she added.
I straightened.
"We're not that close," I said.
"But you're still connected," she replied calmly. "And when the time comes… I'll need your help."
She took another drag.
"You're brothers."
"Stepbrothers," I corrected.
"Same thing," she said.
I shook my head.
"No. It's not."
She looked at me—
really looked this time.
Like she was starting to understand something deeper.
"I should get back inside," I said.
And before she could say anything else—
I walked away.
--
Third POV
Chris sat at the head of the table, his fingers resting lightly against the polished wood as voices filled the room.
Charts. Numbers. Projections.
His team spoke one after the other, pointing at figures, explaining margins, risks, timelines.
He wasn't listening.
Not really.
His gaze drifted to the file sitting on his desk.
The Crownies Project.
His biggest investment.
Billions already poured into it.
If it succeeded—
it would return five times over.
If it failed—
he wouldn't just lose money.
He would lose control.
Chris glanced at his watch.
Then reached for the file.
He opened it slowly.
Inside—
documents, maps…
and one problem.
The land.
Owned by the Granthams.
One of the oldest and wealthiest families in Breezeridge.
Or rather—
what was left of them.
They were gone.
Dead.
And still—
the land wasn't his.
His jaw tightened slightly.
He had made offers.
Generous ones.
Repeated ones.
Rejected.
Not by the family—
but by that stubborn lawyer.
The estate belongs to the rightful heir, the man had said.
The Granthams' lost grandson.
Chris scoffed under his breath.
A ghost.
A name without a face.
And yet—
the only thing standing between him and everything.
His gaze darkened slightly.
That was why he had taken his last step.
His final move.
Chris raised his hand.
The room fell silent immediately.
"You can leave," he said.
They didn't hesitate.
Chairs shifted. Papers gathered.
Within seconds, the room emptied.
"All except you, Florence."
She stayed.
The door closed behind the others.
Silence.
Then—
a soft laugh.
Florence walked behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders, slowly kneading the tension away.
"You've been tense lately," she murmured.
Her voice low.
Familiar.
"Ever since you married that woman."
Chris said nothing.
She moved around, sitting on the edge of his desk.
Studying him.
"I don't believe you love her," she said lightly.
A small smile touched his lips.
He reached for her, pulling her closer.
"You think too much," he said.
She laughed softly.
"Then tell me," she whispered, tugging lightly at his tie. "Why did you really marry her?"
Chris didn't answer.
He only leaned in—
cutting the question short.
The rest of the room faded into quiet sounds—
laughter, breath, movement—
nothing that needed words.
And on his desk—
just within reach—
lay a photograph.
A young boy.
Stamped at the corner:
Matt Grantham.