Chapter 198: An accident at the parking lot
Inside the office...
Ian adjusted his glasses, a thoughtful look flickering across his face. "Something feels off," he said carefully. "That protest—it didn’t come across as frustration. It looked orchestrated."
Nathaniel’s brows knit together as he glanced at him. "What exactly are you implying?"
Ian hesitated, weighing his words. "I can’t say just yet. Give me a little time, and I’ll have an answer."
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened at the response. ’This boy... how much of this am I supposed to put up with?’ He rose suddenly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.
"We are due in the meeting," he snapped before striding out of the office.
Ian blinked, pushing his glasses back into place, puzzled by Nathaniel’s sudden irritation. He didn’t have the chance to reflect on it for long—Nathaniel was already gone. Grabbing the file from the desk, Ian hurried after him.
~~~~~~~~~~
The meeting went well—Nathaniel had just closed another deal. He stepped out of the room in high spirits, but as he rounded a corner, he unexpectedly came face-to-face with Zara and Bree.
He stopped short, surprise flickering across his face. "Zara?"
Zara froze too, equally taken aback by the sudden encounter.
"You are here on business?" he asked.
She gave a small nod. "Yes. We reserved the banquet hall for our event, and we came to check on the arrangements."
"Are you finished now?"
"Yes, we were just about to leave." She started to move past him, but then something seemed to occur to her, and she paused. "Grandma asked us to come to the mansion for dinner. She said she couldn’t reach you on the phone."
"Ah..." Nathaniel quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and saw several missed calls from his grandmother. "I was in a meeting and had my phone on silent. I didn’t hear it ring."
"It’s fine," Zara replied coolly. "I already told her we’d be there. Just make sure you come early."
She turned to go, but Nathaniel caught her wrist. "Wait. Let’s go together. If you want, we can leave now."
Zara glanced down at his hand, then lifted her eyes to meet his. "I still have work to finish," she said evenly, gently pulling her wrist free. "I’ll go by myself."
With that, she walked away, her hand clasped firmly around Bree’s.
Nathaniel stood frozen, turmoil churning inside him. Zara’s distant expression, her clipped words, and the sharpness in her eyes all made it painfully clear—she was still upset with him. His jaw tightened into a scowl as he watched her walk away.
A discreet cough pulled him back. Ian shifted uneasily before speaking. "Madam seemed rather upset with you," he said carefully. "Did you... do something to anger her?"
Nathaniel’s head snapped toward him, his glare cutting like a blade. "How dare you meddle in my private affairs?" he hissed.
Roberto had been at his side for years, and not once had he ever commented on Nathaniel’s relationship with his wife. Yet here was Ian—newly appointed—already daring to speak on such matters.
Ian quickly lifted his hands. "No, I didn’t mean anything by it. I only noticed—"
Before he could finish, Nathaniel shoved him hard against the wall, his palm pressing firmly against Ian’s chest.
"Don’t," Nathaniel warned in a low, dangerous tone. "Your job is to assist me professionally, not interfere in matters between me and my wife."
"I understand," Ian replied quickly, paling under the weight of his glare. "But as your assistant, it’s my duty to support you in every way possible—not just with office work. I only meant to help."
Nathaniel faltered, struck silent. Ian was right. Roberto had often gone beyond his duties to help with personal matters as well. So why had he snapped like this?
"I could help you pacify her," Ian added cautiously. "I could arrange a thoughtful gift if you tell me what she likes."
Nathaniel’s expression softened slightly, his thoughts beginning to stir. "She..."
"Nathaniel? You?" a voice interrupted from nearby.
He turned swiftly, spotting Liam standing a few steps away, suspicion written all over his face. The sight made Nathaniel withdraw immediately.
"Who is this?" Liam demanded, his eyes narrowing on Ian. "And why are you with him?"
Before Nathaniel could respond, Ian stepped forward and offered his hand. "Hello. I’m Ian Shaw, Mr. Grant’s new assistant."
Liam glanced at the extended hand but dismissed it, fixing his glare back on Nathaniel. "You? When did you become like this? You are nothing but a disappointment."
Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and strode off.
"Liam, wait—" Nathaniel called after him.
But Liam didn’t break stride, disappearing down the corridor.
"Damn it," Nathaniel muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.
Ian frowned. "What was that about? What did he mean?"
Nathaniel shot him a hard look, irritation flashing across his face. "It’s my issue, and I’ll handle it. You just remember why I hired you. Get to the asylum and do what I instructed."
Without another word, he stormed out of the hotel, phone already at his ear.
Ian hesitated for a beat, then rushed after him.
As Nathaniel stepped into the parking lot, someone collided with him. His phone slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.
Already on edge, Nathaniel’s temper flared. "Are you blind?" he snapped, glaring at the man.
He bent to retrieve the phone, but the stranger was faster. Snatching it up, he bolted.
"Hey!" Nathaniel shouted, lunging after him. He managed to grab the man’s arm, only to realize too late that the stranger carried a knife.
With a sudden slash, the blade cut across Nathaniel’s hand.
"Ugh..." He hissed in pain, instinctively letting go as blood welled from the wound.
The man used the chance to flee.
"Mr. Grant!" Ian rushed over, eyes widening at the sight of blood streaming down Nathaniel’s hand.
Nathaniel pressed his palm to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. "My phone—he took my phone—"
But before he could finish, Ian bolted after the thief.
"Ian, stop," Nathaniel barked. "Come back."
Fear knotted his chest as Ian disappeared from view. "Damn it..." he muttered, his face tightening in pain and frustration.
That boy—how could he possibly handle a man like that?
Panic gnawed at him. "What if he gets hurt? Where the hell do I even find him?"
Time dragged, and Nathaniel’s unease only sharpened. He bound his wounded hand with a handkerchief, jaw tight. "No...I can’t just stand here. I have to find him."
He moved to step forward—but stopped dead in his tracks.
Ian was walking back toward him. For a heartbeat, Nathaniel could hardly believe his eyes.
Holding up the phone like a prize, Ian’s face lit with triumph. "Got it," he said proudly.