Chapter 42

Nathan Blackwood shoved the tailor shop door open with such force that the bell above it jangled violently. His broad shoulders nearly filled the entire doorway.

The elderly tailor glanced up from pressing a suit jacket, his eyes widening at the sight of the imposing figure.

"Oh! Mr. Blackwood!"

"I need your help," Nathan said, his deep voice clipped. "Cost isn't an issue."

His jaw tightened as he placed a battered box on the counter. The tailor gasped when he lifted the lid.

"Good heavens! What happened to this masterpiece?" The old man's hands trembled as he examined the ruined suit. "Such exquisite craftsmanship destroyed!"

Nathan swallowed hard. "My fault."

His fingers brushed the torn fabric. "She stitched every seam by hand. Stayed up night after night working on it." His throat constricted. "I watched her pour her soul into this."

The tailor sighed mournfully. "Such dedication... such a waste."

"Can you repair it?" Nathan demanded.

"The lining, perhaps. But the outer fabric?" The tailor shook his head. "The damage is too severe."

Something twisted in Nathan's chest at those words.

"Do what you can," he said roughly. "I don't care about visible mending. Just... make it whole again."

When Nathan returned to Cliffside Manor, tension hung thick in the air.

"Nathan!"

His half-sister Cassandra rushed toward him, her face pale. "Grandfather's here. He and Father are arguing upstairs. It's terrible! You need to calm them down!"

Nathan's brow arched. "What's the fight about?"

He found it ironic. Leonard Blackwood prided himself on being the model filial son.

Reginald Blackwood's recent stroke meant he shouldn't be agitated. Yet Leonard was risking his carefully cultivated reputation by confronting his father head-on.

There could only be one reason—Penelope.

"Victoria's practically family," Cassandra huffed, stomping her foot. "Now that the Sterlings are in trouble, of course Father wants to help!"

She glared up the staircase. "But Grandfather refuses! Doesn't he understand? Helping the Sterlings helps us too!" Her voice turned shrill. "Nathan, you're engaged to Victoria! If we don't intervene, we'll be humiliated!"

Nathan's expression darkened as he ascended the stairs.

The study door stood ajar. Inside, chaos reigned.

Reginald, confined to his wheelchair, hurled a crystal ashtray against the wall. At eighty, his temper had only grown more volatile with age.

Penelope wept dramatically into Leonard's shoulder, clutching a silk handkerchief. Leonard shielded her from flying debris, his face thunderous.

"Father! Control yourself!"

"I'll control myself when you start using your brain!" Reginald roared, pounding his chest. "I warned you not to get involved with Sterling Corp! And what do you do? Buy their defective stock? Hand them our contracts?"

His wheelchair creaked as he leaned forward. "Has this woman addled your mind completely? Do I need to die before you'll listen?"

"How can you say that?" Leonard's face purpled with rage.

"Say what? The truth?" Reginald slammed his fist on the armrest. "Ever since you married her, you've lost all sense!"

"Father-in-law..." Penelope's voice quivered with practiced meekness. "I know you've never approved of me, but twenty years I've devoted to this family..."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I've been the perfect wife, the perfect mother. I've never stepped out of line, never brought shame to the Blackwood name..."

She pressed closer to Leonard. "Marrying Leonard was the greatest blessing of my life. I've never asked for anything more..."

Leonard gazed at her with adoration.

Reginald wasn't fooled. His hands shook with fury. "Spare me your theatrics!"

The old man's eyes locked onto Nathan's as he appeared in the doorway. A silent challenge passed between them. The real battle was just beginning.