When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2063

Elena shrugged, rose, and moved toward the door. "Suit yourself." Her heels clicked away, leaving Wren alone with the low hum of the television and a silence thick enough to drown in.

He called after her, the words escaping before he could rein them in. "About the boys... I know you carried the burden alone, and it shouldn't have fallen all on you."

Back then, Wren had barely lifted a finger with the children. A full-time nanny, he reasoned, meant parenting was effortless.

Now the boys towered above his shoulder, yet they still kept him up at night. Only now did he grasp how brutal motherhood could be.

Elena paused, spine straight, but never turned. She strode on.

Outside, the winter wind carved at her face like glass shards. Every gust howled across the courtyard's empty flagstones.

The butler scrambled behind her, umbrella snapping open, trying to shield her from the icy blade of air.

"It's only wind," she said, flicking her wrist dismissively.

The butler lowered the umbrella, uncertain.

Elena let the gale slash her skin until numbness turned to a strange, welcome calm.

For years, she had bent over backward inside the Rainsworth household; no acknowledgment came—from in-laws, from staff, not even from her own husband.

Wren seemed different now, yes, but the revelation arrived far too late to matter.

Nicholas' scandal refused to sink; by dawn, every major feed screamed the headline. Viewers blinked, stunned, thumbs hovering over screens.

Cecilia read the article without surprise. She merely wished Nicholas might still stumble into real love and hold on tight.

Charlotte leaned over the desk, eyes wide. "Word is the woman in that piece was in a car crash at dawn—rushed into surgery. No clue if she's even alive."

Shock rippled through Cecilia, her breath catching. "How could that happen?"

Charlotte gave a helpless shrug, whispering, "Life flips without warning, Boss."

Cecilia let the matter drop; pressing for details would change nothing.

Charlotte worried her lower lip. "Boss, has Sven texted or called you?"

Cecilia shook her head. "Not yet. Don't fret, Lottie. Calvin said Sven is safe, so safe he must be. If he's staying silent, there's a reason neither of us can see right now."

"It's complicated," he said after a breath. "Let me walk you through it, little by little." Even across the line, his voice sounded drained.

Charlotte whispered, "All right."

She stepped onto the balcony, phone pressed hard to her ear, every nerve straining for his next syllable.

She had always suspected Sven was more than a hired guard; there was a composure about him that felt born, not trained.

Tonight, her hunch crystallized—Sven was no employee but the designated heir to the powerful Lindberg clan.

He told her his return had been forced by grief; his father's sudden death summoned him back to a house he barely knew.

Despite meticulous preparations, his eldest brother still managed to ambush him, leaving Sven bleeding on the marble foyer, inches from death.

Charlotte listened in silence, mind tossed by a storm of images she could barely piece together.

"So my boyfriend's been harboring a secret dynasty? We were two wage-earners yesterday. Overnight, I'm dating a mogul's son?"