When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2078

Ice flooded the guard's veins. He stammered into the phone, “Mr. Rainsworth, it's bad. Mr. Jonathan is gone.”

“What?” Nathaniel barked.

Nathaniel's brows pulled together for the briefest heartbeat, yet his tone stayed as calm as deep water when he lifted the phone to his ear. “Pull every security feed in the entire mall. Seal off every entrance and exit immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” The bodyguard snapped to attention, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the bustle, voice already crackling over the radio as he issued the order.

Cecilia leaned toward him, worry clouding her eyes. “Well? Why isn't Jon back yet?”

Nathaniel forced a reassuring smile. “He's still in the restroom, probably a bout of constipation. Nothing serious.”

Her shoulders remained tight. “Constipation at his age? As soon as we're home, we're having a doctor look at him.”

Nathaniel offered a soft hum of agreement and nodded once.

Elliot, perched on the edge of a plush chair, blinked. “Since when does my brother get constipated? He's practically obsessed with healthy routines.”

Everyone else might be clueless, but Elliot knew Jonathan's schedule down to the minute, including his meals, bathroom breaks, everything. Vanishing this long was unheard of.

“Certain private matters aren't things your brother would share,” Nathaniel replied evenly.

“Oh.” Elliot shrank back, lips sealing around unasked questions.

Nathaniel's phone vibrated again. He answered before the second ring. “Report.”

“Mr. Jonathan located, sir. Sixth floor, men's clothier. He hasn't left the store.”

“Understood.” Nathaniel ended the call, jaw set.

He pushed to his feet. “Ceci, stay right here with Eli. I'm heading to the restroom too. I'll check on Jon's condition while I'm at it.”

Cecilia bobbed her head quickly. “All right. Hurry back.”

It isn't about a mask at all. Right now, Felix is leaning on his family's power to steal from me. If I hand this over, what will he demand next—my toys, my clothes, my very pride? Jonathan had never felt such mixed fury and helplessness.

He hated being small. If only he were grown, no one would dare press him into a corner like this.

Miranda tilted her chin, a polite smile softening her normally severe features. “Felix, darling, go on and get the mask you like.”

A sly little grin flickered across Felix's face. “Sure,” he chirped, then scampered toward Jonathan with the eager bounce of a fox that had just spotted an unguarded henhouse.

Reaching Jonathan, Felix lifted a tentative hand. His fingertips brushed the edge of the monkey mask, then eased it downward, slow enough to savor what lay beneath.

“What do you think you're doing?”

The words weren't shouted. They simply rolled in from the doorway—low, level, and heavy enough to still every heartbeat in the room. Nathaniel filled the threshold, tall and unyielding, his expression carved from winter stone. The air seemed to shrink around him.

Miranda's smile collapsed. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why Nathaniel had appeared here, of all places, at this very moment.

“Nathaniel, what are you doing here?”