Chapter 471

Nathan's eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. He remained silent, his gaze lifting to meet Old Master Blackwood's piercing stare from the second-floor balcony.

A subtle nod passed between them.

Old Master Blackwood's lips thinned. "Come upstairs," he commanded.

The study was thick with tension as Nathan entered. The elder Blackwood sat behind his mahogany desk, expression unreadable.

"I made my position clear over the phone."

Nathan didn't hesitate. "And I don't agree."

Old Master Blackwood's face darkened. "If it weren't for the Sterling family backing Evelyn, I would never have tolerated this reunion. You nearly died for her, yet she remains indifferent. What of the Blackwood family's dignity?"

The air turned glacial.

Nathan's voice was ice. "The Blackwood name isn't as important as Evelyn."

The old man slammed his palm on the desk, fury contorting his features. "You—!"

Nathan didn't flinch. His voice dropped lower, lethal. "There will be no one else. That woman downstairs could never compare to her—let alone deserve to."

A paperweight flew across the room.

Nathan didn't dodge.

The sharp edge struck his temple, blood immediately streaking down his face.

Old Master Blackwood froze, then seethed. "This is all because of her!"

Nathan swayed slightly but steadied himself. He wiped the blood with his sleeve, his stare unwavering.

"If I can't choose who I marry, then find yourself an heir you can control."

The threat hung in the air.

Even without the Blackwood empire, Nathan's hidden influence could dismantle it with ease.

Without another word, he turned, cane in hand, and walked out.

The message was clear—he'd burn the family legacy before letting them dictate his heart.

Old Master Blackwood watched him leave, disgusted. His most promising heir, willing to throw everything away for a woman?

Nathan descended the stairs, his presence so frigid no one dared approach.

Margaret had expected him to yield.

"Nathan," she called, forcing a smile. "Stay a few days. Accompany Ms. Ashford for outings."

Victoria Ashford stood nearby, mimicking her half-sister Penelope's grace—poorly.

Nathan didn't even glance at her. He strode toward the door.

Margaret's voice turned shrill. "You defy your grandfather now?!"

Nathan paused. "Do you still wish to see Sophia?"

The room iced over.

Victoria, sensing danger, intervened. "Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood is busy. I'll explore the city alone. It's no trouble."

Margaret patted her hand stiffly. "So understanding."

Nathan left without another word.

Back at Highland Estates, Teddy was alone, walking the ridiculous husky.

Nathan scowled. "Why is that thing still here?"

Teddy grinned. "Young Master Whitmore insisted. Said he'd collect it personally."

The husky wagged its tail, then—mocking Nathan—limped in a circle.

Nathan's expression darkened.

Teddy burst out laughing. "No wonder Tristan said this dog has an IQ of 120!"

A single glare silenced him.