Chapter 403

Highland Estates

Nathan Blackwood sat motionless in his wheelchair by the grand entrance, his face ashen. His gaze followed the flurry of activity as medical personnel carefully loaded Margaret Blackwood into the waiting ambulance. The commotion around him felt muffled, distant.

Was he grieving?

Not exactly.

He was simply... stunned.

The realization that his own mother had harbored such intense hatred for Evelyn Sinclair—enough to attempt murder—left him reeling. All those years of dismissing her subtle jabs had allowed this venom to fester unchecked.

Harrison finished coordinating with the medical team and turned to find his boss still frozen in place. The usually formidable CEO of Blackwood Enterprises looked uncharacteristically vulnerable in his wheelchair, yet the dangerous aura surrounding him remained undiminished.

"Sir," Harrison approached cautiously, "the doctors confirmed it's just blood loss. No life-threatening injuries."

Nathan's fingers tightened around the wheelchair's armrests. His obsidian eyes darkened further, becoming utterly unreadable.

"Send the housekeeper to our Manila estate," he finally spoke, his voice glacial. "Permanently. As for my mother..."

A bone-chilling pause.

"Once she's stabilized, transfer her to Silver Pines Sanatorium. No discharge without my explicit authorization."

Harrison's breath caught. He understood the unspoken sentence—this was effectively a gilded prison.

Had he not received the bodyguard's report detailing Margaret's violent outburst, he might have protested. But seeing Evelyn's bloodied form being carried out earlier... No, Nathan's reaction was justified.

"Understood, sir."

After a weighted silence, Harrison ventured, "Do you think... Ms. Sinclair will return?"

Nathan's jaw clenched. That very fear had been gnawing at him since the ambulance doors closed behind Evelyn. If she walked away now, he might never get another chance.

"Perhaps you could call later? Ask about dinner preferences?" Harrison suggested. "We could have her favorite delivered."

Nathan's piercing gaze snapped up. "Since when do you give dating advice?"

Harrison risked a smile. "Sir, even CEOs need wingmen. With Ms. Sinclair's security detail, we should consider... professional reinforcements."

"Get to the point."

"My cousin Teddy—used to be a divorce lawyer, now runs a high-end matchmaking service. He's got a gift for reconciliation cases. If you're open to..."

Nathan's expression darkened visibly.

A matchmaker?

The idea of the mighty Nathan Blackwood requiring relationship counseling was laughable. The business world would have a field day with this.

Harrison paled as Nathan's glare intensified. This gamble might cost him his six-figure salary.

"Fine." Nathan's abrupt agreement startled him. "But if this backfires, you're both unemployed."

Harrison barely suppressed a gulp. Now he was staking his career on Teddy's questionable charm?

"Discreetly," Nathan added sharply. "Have him pose as my new butler. And Evelyn must never know his real profession."

As Nathan wheeled himself toward his study, Harrison stood dumbfounded.

Nathan Blackwood had actually agreed to relationship counseling.

Desperation indeed made strange bedfellows.