Reclaimed By My Ex-husband

Zara blinked in surprise, realizing she hadn't known he had been trying to reach her. Then she remembered she had put her phone on silent to avoid distractions while working. However, that wasn't the only reason.

She had been upset with him and didn't want to talk, so she had not checked her phone. Later, she became caught up with Bree and completely forgot to turn the sound back on.

"I…" She quickly grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone, only to see seventeen missed calls and a string of unread messages. Her breath hitched, the rest of her words stuck in her throat.

"I was worried," Nathaniel said as he stepped closer. "I thought something had happened to you. I even sent someone to look for you. When I heard you had already left the office, I panicked—I thought you had been kidnapped again."

He had called again and again, sending message after message, desperate to know she was safe, but all he received was silence. Fear had eaten away at him until he had seen her safe and sound.

"Zane was asking about you," he added, his voice turning sharper this time. "He waited at the dinner table, hoping you'd join him. But you—You didn't even think about Zane."

When Zara lifted her eyes to him, she caught the storm in his face—worry tangled with anger. She hadn't intended to upset him. All she had wanted was a little space, a way to dull the ache in her chest. Yet, in doing so, she had ended up letting Zane down.

Guilt pressed hard against her.

"I…" she started, trying to explain.

"I thought I lost you." His hands closed firmly around her shoulders, cutting off her words. Worry flickered in his gaze, softening his features. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Zara froze, startled by the depth in his gaze. It wasn't just anger. There was longing in it, helplessness, and unmistakable fear—fear of losing her. His eyes no longer carried the sharpness she had just witnessed a while ago. Instead, they held something else she couldn't quite place—perhaps adoration.

The thought made her tense all the more.

'No, it can't be.'

If he truly cared for her, loved her, he wouldn't have hesitated when Eugen asked that question. He wouldn't have been irritated.

She pushed the thought away quickly, reminding herself that the only woman he had ever loved was Nora.

"I was about to go out and search for you," he continued. "And then I saw you with another man. It made me furious."

He paused for a moment, doubt flickering across his expression. "You called him Shay Walsh."

Zara gave a small nod. "Yes. He is Shay Walsh."

The certainty in her eyes unsettled him. It was as though she truly believed she knew Shay. Nathaniel frowned, baffled by how Zara could mistake Liam for someone else.

"Are you still drunk?" he snapped sharply. "You are imagining things. He is—"

"I'm perfectly clearheaded," she interrupted firmly. "And I know who he is. I had seen him before at the fashion show."

"What?" Nathaniel's eyes narrowed further in disbelief. He recalled Shay Walsh winning the best designer award that night, but the man hadn't shown up to take it—only his assistant had appeared on stage.

So, when had Zara supposedly met him?

"I know he avoids public appearance," she added, catching on to his doubt. "I had never seen him in person before that night. But he came over to congratulate me himself. If you don't trust my words, you can ask Bree. She was right there."

Nathaniel's confusion only grew. The man who had brought Zara home was Liam. Why was Zara insisting it was Shay Walsh? Could it really just be the alcohol talking?

That seemed like the only plausible explanation.

"Don't drink so much that you start imagining things," he rebuked. "It's dangerous. And next time, at least let me know when you are going out. Don't just vanish on me."

"I wasn't drunk," she retorted.

"Oh, really?" he snapped back, his voice rising above hers. "You could barely stand straight, and you claim you weren't drunk? You were perfectly at ease with another man, but of course, you weren't drunk."

The anger poured out of him with each word, but behind his taut expression lurked something else—jealousy.

"Keep your distance from him," he warned darkly. "And don't forget who you are."

Caught off guard, Zara gaped at him. Why did he sound jealous?

The idea itself was laughable now that she knew he had no feelings for her. It was nothing more than raw male instinct — a surge of possessiveness that had nothing to do with love. It was the kind of primitive reaction a man felt when his pride was challenged, when another presence threatened to step into his space and lay claim to what he considered his.

It wasn't her he valued, but the idea of her as a part of his territory. The jealousy, the anger, the need to assert himself — it all stemmed from insecurity, from the fear of losing control, of being undermined, of having someone else succeed in taking what he thought belonged to him.

Zara fought the impulse to roll her eyes, her irritation flaring back. "Why are you acting this way? I was only being courteous to him—nothing more. I respect him for his talent. He is a good person, and he made sure I got home safely. I'm simply thankful."

"You are still speaking about another man," he snarled, yanking her closer. "When you are with me, your mind should be on no one but me." In a flash, his mouth crashed against hers in a fierce, punishing kiss.

It was not just a kiss but a storm — the way everything he had been bottling up exploded in that one act. It was desperate, almost consuming.

Fear of losing her, the ache of longing, the bitterness of resentment, and the sting of jealousy all tangled together and spilled into that single moment.

His lips pressed against hers with a force that was punishing, almost ruthless, as if he wanted to brand her with his pain, to make her feel every shred of the torment she had caused. Yet beneath the harshness lingered a desperate edge, a raw, unspoken plea not to abandon him. It was raw, unfiltered emotion that stripped him bare and left his soul trembling against hers.

Nathaniel's ferocity overwhelmed Zara. She tried to push him away, to free herself from his grasp, but he held her fast, smothering her protests.

"Nathaniel," she said between frantic kisses, but he paid no heed.

He pushed her onto the bed. Zara clutched the towel to her chest, trying to shield herself, but before she could recoil, he caught her ankle and pulled her closer, his eyes dark with hunger.

"Perhaps you've forgotten who you belong to. Time to remind you," he growled, yanking the towel from her and revealing her bare form.

Zara gasped, flinging her hands across her chest in a futile attempt to cover herself. But he loomed over her, pinning her arms above her head, devouring her lips again with a feverish kiss.

The weight of his body, the heat radiating from him, and the intoxicating power of the kiss left her struggling feebly. Gradually, her resistance melted, and she gave in, her arms wrapping around his neck.

Then, a sluggish voice broke through the intensity. "Mommy…"