The Unwavering Heart That Broke novel Chapter 87

The girl in the photo had gentle, pretty features. Her big eyes sparkled at the camera, the kind of sweet, fresh-faced beauty that parents adored.

Nathalie couldn’t figure out why it stung to look at her.

But she reminded herself of the deal with Madonna. If Lance liked this girl, if things went well, Nathalie would finally be free. She could get her divorce, just like they agreed.

She took a long breath, trying to get her emotions under control.

[Nathalie]: [She’s lovely.]

[Madonna]: [Great, come over this weekend and help me introduce her to Lance.]

[Nathalie]: [Sure.]

After sending the reply, Nathalie set her phone down and tried to focus on her script. But her mind just wouldn’t settle, the words blurring together no matter how many times she read them.

Frustrated, she got up, changed into workout clothes, and headed to her private gym. She pushed herself harder than usual, using up every drop of energy until even the frustration started to fade, just leaving sweat and shaky muscles behind.

Exhausted, she showered and went straight to bed, determined to forget about everything for at least one night.

But just as she was slipping into sleep, a knock sounded against her front door.

She checked her phone. One in the morning.

Frowning, she climbed out of bed and glanced at her security monitor.

Lance.

He stood outside with his head down, bringing his fist to the door again. He waited, then knocked again, a little louder this time.

Nathalie could only stare at the screen. She didn’t move. Anger simmered hot and thick in her chest, old irritation rushing back all at once. Her hands curled tightly at her sides.

She took another steadying breath, stabbed the intercom button, and snapped, “It’s the middle of the night. Maybe you don’t need sleep, but I do. Go away!”

Lance paused mid-knock. He sounded tired. “Just let me in. I’m exhausted.”

“Go away.”

“Nathalie. Let me in.”

She didn’t bother replying. He kept at it, repeating himself, his voice muffled but persistent.

Lance stepped inside and headed straight for her, closing the gap in a few strides before pulling her into his arms.

As soon as he wrapped her up, Nathalie caught the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath.

She tried to shove him away. “Let go! Get off, you stink!”

He just hugged her tighter, tucking his face into the curve of her neck. “Nathalie, I just want to sleep. Come to bed with me.”

His voice was lower than usual, rough-edged and strangely soft, sweet with drink.

Nathalie twisted, trying to break free. “Let go of me! Get out!”

“I’m not letting go. And I’m not leaving.”

Lance stayed glued to her, his weight bearing down, step by step forcing her backwards. Nathalie couldn’t fight him off, and finally she bumped into the edge of the sofa. Lance didn’t stop until she dropped onto the cushions.

He leaned right over her, his body heavy, pinning her in place like he wanted to fuse them together.

Nathalie’s vision swam. “Get up... I can’t breathe...”