Chapter 240

The punch landed with brutal precision on his left cheekbone, the sickening crack echoing through the foyer as Nathan stumbled back, his shoulder slamming against the wall.

Alexander hadn't seen it coming.

Nathan Black erupted into the penthouse like a hurricane, his emerald eyes blazing with primal fury, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. He barely glanced at Alexander as he took the marble stairs three at a time, his Italian loafers leaving scuff marks on the polished steps.

Wiping the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand, Alexander let out a low whistle. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, rolling his aching jaw. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth - Nathan hadn't pulled that punch one bit.

The elevator dinged ninety seconds later. Nathan descended like Death himself, his Armani suit wrinkled, his voice glacial. "Where's Evelyn?"

Alexander massaged his throbbing cheekbone. "Do you really think she'd be here? She texted me she's staying at Natalie's tonight."

Nathan's knuckles turned white around the banister. "Then explain," he bit out, each word sharp enough to draw blood, "why I heard moaning during our call."

"The new K-drama Vivian recommended," Alexander said smoothly, reaching for the remote to turn off the flat-screen where a shirtless actor was indeed pinning a woman against a wall.

Nathan's gaze could have frozen hell over. "Bullshit. You hung up like you'd been caught with your pants down."

"My battery died at 2%," Alexander shrugged, tossing his dead phone onto the coffee table with a clatter. "Like I told you three times already."

The silence between them crackled like live wires.

Nathan's chest rose and fell rapidly, the adrenaline still coursing through him. Then suddenly - like a puppet with its strings cut - his shoulders slumped.

"Fuck." He dragged both hands down his face, his wedding band glinting under the chandelier. When he looked up, the storm in his eyes had dulled to something more vulnerable. "I... Christ, Alex. I'm sorry."

Alexander tossed him an ice pack from the wet bar. "Sit down before you pass out."

Nathan collapsed onto the Chesterfield sofa, the ice pack pressed to his bruised knuckles instead of his face.

"You've taken bullets without flinching," Alexander said quietly, pouring two fingers of Macallan. "When Leonard's men kidnapped Serena, you negotiated like it was a fucking board meeting. But this?" He pushed the glass into Nathan's shaking hand. "This is new."

The amber liquid trembled as Nathan brought it to his lips. Somewhere in the penthouse, a grandfather clock ticked towards midnight.