Reclaimed By My Ex-husband

The man was about to end the call when he heard Nathaniel's voice again. Slowly, he pressed it back to his ear, intrigued by what else Nathaniel had to say.

"This time, Riya is involved," Nathaniel recounted every detail. "She sneaked into my study, stole important files. Now Zachary has the project that was supposed to be mine. I'm certain he is manipulating her—maybe through coercion, maybe threats. I need you to dig into this."

He gritted his teeth. "Find out what Zachary is really up to and how he managed to turn Riya against me. And also check whether he had any hand in Roberto's accident."

A heavy silence followed. Then the man's voice returned, contemplative. "Interesting. Alright. I'll take this case. But this time, my fees will be high."

"Don't worry about the money," Nathaniel reassured. "Just bring me proof—every single shred of it."

"Fine," the man replied. "But we'll do this my way. No direct contact. No texts, no calls, no emails. I'll be the one to reach out. And for the payment—I'll take half up front, the rest after the job is done."

"Done," Nathaniel agreed coldly. "I'll wire you the money. Looking forward to working with you again, Kelvin."

When the line finally clicked dead, Nathaniel sat in the silence, eyes burning with an old fire.

"Ten years ago, we couldn't gather enough proof against you, Zachary," he muttered under his breath. "But times have changed. I'm no longer the naïve boy I once was. This time, I'll bring you down. Whatever the cost."

He returned his focus to the laptop, reset his password, and began encrypting every file and folder.

A soft knock broke the silence.

"Sir, dinner is ready," Mrs. Jules's voice drifted in from the other side of the door. "Shall I serve the food?"

Nathaniel lifted his eyes toward the door. "Ask Zara. I still have some things to finish."

The housekeeper sighed heavily. "I've already asked her, but she said she wouldn't eat. I don't know what is going on between the two of you." With a shake of her head, she walked away.

After several minutes, Nathaniel wrapped up his work. He leaned back, rubbing the stiffness from his neck, his body aching from the long hours at the desk. But another weight pressed heavier—he still hadn't spoken to Zara. He hadn't apologized.

Shutting the laptop, he stepped into the hallway and stopped short when he spotted Zara leading Zane into his room.

Nathaniel glanced at his watch, which read half past nine. It was Zane's bedtime already.

A faint smile softened his features as he went into his bedroom. Stripping off his clothes, he tossed them into the laundry bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

After a quick shower, he emerged and dressed in comfortable clothes. His steps carried him downstairs.

"Mrs. Jules," he called.

The housekeeper appeared almost instantly, as if waiting. "Sir, shall I serve the food now?"

Nathaniel hesitated, his gaze lifting toward Zane's room. "What about Zara? Has she eaten?"

Mrs. Jules's shoulders slumped. "No… she hasn't. She said she didn't want to eat." Shaking her head, she turned briskly and disappeared into the kitchen.

Nathaniel stood there, speechless, a dull ache tightening in his chest. 'She is still upset with me… I need to make this right.'

Glancing at the housekeeper, he said, "Don't serve the food yet. You can go and rest."

Mrs. Jules hesitated but didn't protest. She simply walked away.

Nathaniel crossed the hall and stepped into Zane's room. The sight that greeted him softened his sternness—Zara sat against the headboard, a storybook in her hands, her voice low and soothing as she read to the boy.

Zane lay curled beside her, his small hand tucked under his cheek. His eyes were closed as if he was drifting into slumber, though he hummed faintly.

Zara's gaze flicked briefly toward the door when she noticed him enter, but she gave no reaction. She returned her attention to the story.

He moved silently, careful not to disturb the boy, and eased himself onto the bed on the opposite side. Leaning back against the headboard, he let his eyes rest on her.

As Zara noticed Zane had slipped fully into slumber, she stopped reading and closed the book. Nathaniel reached out, putting his hand against hers.

"You didn't finish," he murmured. "Read on. I want to know how it ends."

Zara studied him with guarded eyes. Then she turned back to the book and continued.

Nathaniel watched her, his gaze tracing the curve of her lips as they parted and closed, her voice like a melody to his ears, pulling him into nostalgia. He could listen to her forever.

"And they lived happily ever after…" she concluded, closing the book.

When she finally lifted her eyes, she caught him staring at her. She ignored it, quietly placing the book aside before sliding off the bed, ready to leave.

"Zara."

Nathaniel rose quickly, his long strides closing the space between them. "I'm sorry."

Zara looked into his eyes but chose to remain silent.

Nathaniel shifted uncomfortably, unsettled by her silence. He searched her face for some sign—anger, frustration, anything—but found only quiet distance.

It made him uneasy.

He had expected her to lash out, to argue. But this stillness… this was far worse. Deep down, he knew an apology alone wouldn't suffice to earn her forgiveness. What she needed from him was a proper explanation, the truth.

"I've been working tirelessly to secure a deal," he began. "We were so close, but I lost it."

At that, Zara's expression shifted, a faint softness flickering in her eyes, though she remained silent.

Nathaniel continued with remorse, "Since I couldn't attend the meeting this morning, the client signed with someone else. And when I came home and found that someone had accessed my laptop and viewed confidential files, I lost my composure. I shouted at you."

Zara finally couldn't stay silent anymore. "What do you mean? Someone accessed your confidential file?"

Nathaniel nodded gravely. "I checked the system log. A USB drive had been connected. The last opened document was the project draft I had been working on."

Zara's chest tightened with worry. "You mean… the company's confidential file has been stolen." She then remembered his harsh words, his skeptical look. The tightness in her chest intensified as she asked, "Are you suspecting me?"

Nathaniel paused, momentarily at a loss for words. He wasn't accusing her—he was trying to explain.

"Zara," he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his brow, "That's not what I meant. I just wanted you to understand how unsettled I was at the time. I never intended to shout at you or question you. But…"

"But you did," she cut in, wounded. "You looked at me like I was the thief. You promised me you wouldn't doubt me without knowing the truth, but you broke that promise. Again."