The Alpha's Four Hidden Heirs (Natalie and Samuel) novel Chapter 140

**Chapter 140**

**NATALIE**

“Can you walk me through exactly what transpired during your time at the office? I need every detail, if you don’t mind.” I watch as his brow furrows slightly, an expression of bewilderment crossing his face. Yet, after a moment’s hesitation, he gives a slow nod, as if steeling himself to recount the events.

“Alright then. First, I got myself ready at home. Troy, my ever-reliable driver, took me to the company. I distinctly remember arriving a good thirty minutes early. I did that intentionally, you know, because I wanted to catch them off guard. Even though I’m not involved in the daily operations, I still like to keep them alert.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips, and I can’t help but reciprocate, despite the gravity of our conversation.

“So, what happened once you stepped into the office?” I prompt him, leaning in slightly, eager for more.

“I took my private elevator straight up to the executive floor where the meeting was set to occur. The CEO, Martin—he’s a genuinely good man—met me at the entrance and escorted me into the conference room. We exchanged pleasantries and engaged in some light conversation until the meeting commenced. We covered everything on the agenda, and once it wrapped up, Troy drove me back home.” His words flow steadily, painting a picture of a mundane yet structured day.

“Did you have anything to eat when you got there?” I inquire, curious about the details that might reveal more.

“No food, but I was parched. Martin handed me a bottle of water—that was the extent of my refreshment for the day,” he replies, his tone casual, but I notice a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

I hesitate, not wanting to leap to conclusions or cast blame where it isn’t warranted, but the pieces are beginning to align in a way that suggests Martin might be more than just an innocent bystander in this scenario.

“So, this Martin, the CEO—how did you come to know him? I would assume you’d prefer to keep the family business within the family.” I say, connecting the dots as I prepare a mineral drip, a concoction I’ve designed to help him recover, at least temporarily.

“Please, take a seat, dear,” he gestures toward the chair beside his bed, a gentle invitation that I can’t refuse.

I settle into the chair, positioning it close enough to observe him closely until the drip concludes. It strikes me as ironic; in the years I’ve lived in this house, I can’t recall ever having a conversation like this with my father. Our exchanges were usually filled with anger or avoidance, never the calm dialogue I now find myself engaged in.

“Now, about your CEO,” I remind him gently, noticing his gaze drifting.

“Oh yes, Martin. Well, he’s just the CEO, really. My daughter has no interest in the business, and the one who would have…” His voice trails off, a hint of regret in his tone, and he shakes his head as if trying to dismiss the thought.

“Regardless, Martin manages the daily operations, but the company will always remain a Nichols family affair,” he asserts, a note of pride in his voice.

“That’s reassuring to hear. So how did you actually meet Martin? Is he part of your pack?” I ask, intrigued by the connection.

“Actually, he isn’t part of the pack. I met him one fateful evening outside my company. He quite literally saved my life,” he reveals, and I feel a jolt of surprise.

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