Chapter 436

He picked up the phone, befuddled, intending to call his mother. However, just as he was about to dial, he remembered her stern warning: "Don't call me!"

She was right. Eloise was a busy woman. How could she possibly find time to answer his calls? Even if she had, it would have been useless; there was nothing she could do. After a brief pause, he closed the call, opened a text messenger, and typed, "I lost, sorry, and goodbye."

"Mr. Hall" His secretary stood at the door, a box in her hands.

Nathaniel waved her away with a feeble gesture. "Leave. Go."

He forced himself to stand, walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked out. The city throbbed with life, prosperity, and glimmering beauty, but none of it belonged to him.

He vaguely recalled his first days in the office. The company was newly established, but sales of Lily's perfumes were booming. They were an instant hit, affordably priced yet high-quality, earning widespread praise and generating a constant stream of orders. The company thrived. It mirrored his current situation in many ways—a sudden, breathtaking rise. He'd made a lot of money then, attracting investors and shareholders. His career soared, and his love life

He had Lily, devoted to him, and Melanie, gentle and sweet. He'd been a winner.

Nathaniel had once believed his future was bright, filled with wealth, status, reputation, and power. He wanted to prove to his mother he could succeed without her. He envisioned joining the ranks of the wealthy elite.

This was meant to be a beginning, but it had become an end. When did things go wrong? Where did I stray?

He couldn't think. He knew only that he couldn't change things. It was over.

Drunk, Nathaniel stumbled out of the bar, staggering a few steps before leaning against a wall to vomit. Even then, he clutched his beer bottle. Alcohol was the only thing that numbed the pain, offering temporary oblivion.

He took more sips, muttering incoherently as he lurched forward. He tripped, falling hard.

Crash!

The beer bottle shattered, cutting his palm, but he didn't notice the bleeding. He lay on the ground, laughing.

Then, a pair of polished leather shoes appeared before him. He looked up at the blurry figure. "You"