Chapter 78: He Missed Her

Maggie was stunned for a few seconds when Nathael's words registered. Across from her, he fell silent.

"Damn it! I'm done!" he muttered. "Why do I have such a big mouth? I dared to make someone as powerful as him kneel to me. Am I crazy?"

Without a word from Nathael, Maggie felt he'd take a mile if she gave him an inch.

"Maggie."

After a moment, Nathael chuckled.

"Uh? What…what's wrong?" Maggie was uneasy, fearing his anger might escalate to violence.

"Are you home?" Nathael lit a cigarette. Pale smoke rose, softening his features and the coldness in his eyes, revealing a hint of indulgence.

"Not really…" Maggie whispered, wondering if he was coming to confront her.

Nathael chuckled. "Are you scared?"

"No. I'm scared of you actually coming over to kneel before me," Maggie retorted stubbornly. She wouldn't back down because of a few words.

"Then wait." Nathael's eyes darkened. He took several deep drags of his cigarette, extinguished it, put on his coat, and left.

Uneasy, Maggie jumped up and ran to the window. "Um…it's raining outside," she said.

"I know," Nathael replied in a deep voice.

"But I'm about to sleep," Maggie mumbled.

She stood at the window, her loose-fitting t-shirt revealing her slender legs. Her bare feet fidgeted with her slippers, her unease palpable. Perhaps it was the memory of his cold expression, or the burning sensation on her bottom that made her embarrassed and annoyed, unwilling to see him. Yet, beneath the unease, anticipation simmered, like a sprout pushing through the rain-soaked soil, vibrant and green.

"I'll take a look at you, then leave," he said in a warm, soothing voice, a sound like the world's most pleasant melody.

"Okay," Maggie's throat tightened. Her heart beat erratically. What did he want to see? What was there to see?

After getting in his car, Nathael quickly held a brief video conference for two unfinished projects, then called Henry, signed a few documents, and finally had some free time. He looked out at the rainy night. Darkness and rain created a thick curtain, like white mist. Streetlights cast a warm, soft glow, and the city seemed to quiet amidst the usual bustle.

He imagined her: likely in a warm room, wrapped in a blanket, watching TV, or rushing to meet a deadline with a coffee cup in hand. He missed her. It had been days, not a long time compared to the past, but the longing was especially strong. So strong he'd pushed aside work to endure an hour-long drive in the rain, just to see her.

When Nathael arrived, Maggie was still awake. Perhaps it was the days apart, or their last sour encounter, but when she saw him, she was speechless. He carried the chill of the rainy night, water staining his shoulders. His deep gaze was intense, compelling.

"Won't you invite me in?" Nathael asked. The warm lamplight cast a hint of warmth behind him.

Maggie pursed her lips, stepped aside, and arranged his slippers. "You said you were just taking a look."

Nathael smirked. "I'm going to take a shower," he said in a deep voice.

Maggie didn't object. The rain was heavy, and his clothes were damp despite the short journey. No matter how angry she was, she couldn't turn him away.

She sighed as she heard the shower running. Nathael's power over people was terrifying. Perhaps he sensed her vulnerability, a weakness he often exploited. She poured him a cup of hot water, then curled up on the sofa to review the assets Ronald had transferred to her name.

These days had been busy: the Herschire Cultural Park, her school graduation project, and several private projects under Gianna's name. She'd handled part of the property, but a small portion required careful consideration. Listening to the shower, she opened the contract and noticed two different fonts on sticky notes, leaving her dazed. Nathael had marked them for her, a surprise, though perhaps it shouldn't have been.

In her past life, she'd had nothing left except the company under Gianna's name. Later, she lost her sight and could no longer create, so Nathael handled everything. She'd lost interest in life, but he pretended not to notice, hiring designers to communicate with her, listen to her ideas, letting her design jewelry by touch. Their relationship had eased somewhat then, but she still harbored fierce hatred. She felt he'd made her that way, and his feigned care felt hypocritical and disgusting.

Recalling her sarcastic dismissal of the designers, her curses at him, and the destruction of countless pieces of jewelry and drafts, Maggie felt uneasy.

Lost in thought, she saw Nathael emerge from the bathroom, wearing her Hello Kitty towel. I need to get him a set of pajamas, she thought.

"My Hello Kitty towel is dirty now," Maggie lamented.

Nathael was speechless.

She leaned back lazily. "You've seen me, and you've showered, Mr. Harris. You can leave if you have nothing else to do."

Nathael's eyes deepened as he sat beside her. He pulled her into his arms. "Didn't you ask me to kneel to you?" he murmured.