Fake Love, Real Trouble

Nathan barely made it through the school day without being confronted by Lillian. As soon as the bell rang, she caught up to him in the hallway.

"Nathan, what is going on with you? Why are you ignoring me?" she asked, her tone filled with frustration.

Nathan, without even looking at her, sighed. "This is not the time, Lillian. I want to be alone right now."

Lillian frowned, clearly confused and upset by his sudden shift in attitude. But before she could say anything else, an all-too-familiar voice interrupted them.

"What, already fighting? And here I thought you two were madly in love," Derek taunted with a smirk, leaning against the lockers.

Nathan's patience, already razor-thin, finally snapped. Without hesitation, he grabbed Derek by the collar and slammed him against the locker, causing a loud bang that echoed through the hallway.

Gasps filled the air. Everyone turned to stare. Nobody expected Nathan, the quiet and unbothered student, to stand up against Derek—the school's golden boy.

Nathan clenched his fist, his knuckles trembling as he raised it, ready to strike.

Derek, caught off guard, didn't move. His confident smirk faded.

But just as quickly as his anger had flared up, Nathan took a deep breath, unclenched his fist, and slowly let go of Derek's collar.

"...Sorry," he muttered under his breath before walking away, leaving behind a stunned crowd.

---

That evening, Nathan stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the cuffs of his perfectly tailored tuxedo. His hair was neatly styled, just like the night he met Arthur. He looked flawless, elegant—but his reflection felt like a stranger.

He wasn't dressing up for fun. He was dressing up because he had to.

Stepping outside, a black limousine awaited him. The chauffeur bowed slightly as Nathan entered the vehicle.

As the limo glided through the city, Nathan remained silent, his gaze locked on the passing scenery. His mind, however, was miles away.

Eventually, the limousine turned into a private road, leading up to an estate that looked more like a palace.

The Cole Mansion.

It wasn't just a house. It was a statement of power.

A private golf course stretched across the land.

A luxurious pool shimmered under the evening lights.

Over 50 rooms, each more extravagant than the last.

The mansion towered over the landscape, suffocating in its grandeur.

As the limo came to a stop, uniformed staff opened the door for Nathan. He stepped out, his face unreadable.

He wasn't nervous. He wasn't excited. He wasn't even angry.

He was just… empty.

With a deep breath, Nathan stepped inside the Cole Mansion.

Nathan walked into the grand mansion, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor as he was immediately greeted by Arthur. The older man gave him a charming smile, but Nathan's expression remained blank.

"You made it," Arthur said, sipping from a crystal glass. "I assume it wasn't by choice?"

Nathan let out a short breath. "You already know the answer."

Arthur chuckled but said nothing more, gesturing toward the lively ballroom behind him. The mansion was packed with businessmen, influential figures, and high-ranking executives from major corporations. Waiters in crisp uniforms moved between the guests, serving glasses of champagne and gourmet hors d'oeuvres. The sound of classical music filled the air, blending with the hum of polite conversations and calculated negotiations.

Nathan barely paid attention to any of it. His eyes were fixed ahead as he made his way through the grand halls, ignoring the curious glances from guests who recognized the young heir of the Cole family.

His destination was clear—his father's study.

The large wooden doors stood tall before him, and he pushed them open without hesitation. Inside, sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, was Denis Cole, his father. The man barely glanced up from the documents in his hand as Nathan stepped inside.

"You're here," Denis stated, his tone as neutral as ever.

Nathan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Would've been nice if you were the one who greeted me instead of Arthur."

"I was busy."

Of course. He always was.

Nathan clenched his jaw as Denis continued flipping through the pages, as if his own son's presence was nothing more than another business appointment.

"Since you're here," Denis finally said, setting his papers aside. "I assume you haven't returned to playing football?"

Nathan's hands curled into fists at his sides. He exhaled sharply, his irritation evident. "You seriously think I'd go back after what you did?"

Denis raised a brow, seemingly unfazed. "What exactly did I do?"

Nathan let out a bitter laugh. "Don't act clueless. You bankrupted my coach, made sure no one would take him in, and then—just to make sure I'd never set foot in professional football—you sponsored Barcelona, ensuring I'd never get into La Masia."

The words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn't care. The frustration had been buried for too long.

Denis sighed, leaning back in his chair. "It was for your own good. Football was never meant to be your future."

Nathan didn't wait to hear the rest. His patience was already at its limit.

He turned on his heels and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Nathan."

His mother stood at the entrance, dressed in an elegant gown, her expression unreadable. Nathan's anger momentarily subsided as he met her gaze.

"I want to introduce you to someone," she said, motioning towards the ballroom. "She's the daughter of one of your father's business partners."

Nathan clenched his jaw, his frustration now mixing with exhaustion.

Just great.

End of Chapter 6.