Chapter 345: Nat’s Seduction

April blinked, setting her teacup back down onto its saucer with a delicate click. "An emergency?" she asked, tilting her head as her eyes searched his face.

"Nothing of the sort," Alexander replied smoothly.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, though he made no move to adjust it. Instead, he slowly swept his cool blue gaze across the table.

He glared at Nat, whose wicked, triumphant grin only widened; he looked at Xavier, who met his stare with quiet, unyielding satisfaction; he glanced over at Oliver, who remained infuriatingly calm behind his wire-rimmed glasses; and finally, his gaze landed on Samuel, standing stoic and immaculate in the background like an impassable shadow.

"I just..." Alexander trailed off, his jaw tightening slightly as he brought his eyes back to April’s face, his tone dropping into a low, quiet murmur. "I just need to clear my head."

Nat let out a quiet, mocking snort from his chair, but Alexander didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. He leaned down, placing one hand flat on the table beside April’s plate, his thumb lightly brushing against the silk fabric of her sleeve.

"I’ll see you this evening," Alexander whispered, his blue eyes holding hers with a heavy, unspoken promise before he straightened up, turned on his heel, and walked out of the sunlit dining room.

Soon after, they got into the car, heading to the venue once again.

Inside the sedan was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy left back at the estate. Sitting side by side in the back seat, April turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on her twin sister.

"So," April murmured, a subtle, knowing curve touching her lips as her acrylic heels shifted against the floor mat. "How was it with Philippe?"

Emily’s head snapped up, her cheeks instantly staining a vivid, delicate rose. She fidgeted with the hem of her floral dress, clutching her clipboard tight against her chest as if to hide her face behind it.

"I... well..." Emily stammered, her voice dropping into a soft, bashful murmur. "It was really good. He... he made me a small box of fresh raspberry macarons for me. Thank you for letting me stay out a bit longer, April."

April watched her sister’s flushed, utterly smitten expression, a faint, genuine warmth softening her dark eyes.

"Cute," April murmured softly, shaking her head with a light chuckle before turning her attention back to the passing city scenery.

The second to final day of the culinary competition unfolded with intense, high-stakes precision. Despite the overwhelming presence of the men surrounding the judging panel, the evaluations proceeded smoothly. Dishes were served, scores were logged, and the champion for the day was officially called. Philippe. It seemed Renzo and the dark horse were lagging behind.

Well, it would all be over the next day, and then, maybe Philippe would be saved.

Once it was over, the judging suite began to clear out.

Xavier pulled his phone from his coat pocket as it vibrated against his palm. He glanced down at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly into a rigid line. He looked over at April, his dark eyes brimming with reluctant apology.

"An urgent matter has come up at the district headquarters," Xavier said, his deep voice carrying a tight, protective edge. "I have to handle it personally. I’ll meet you back at the estate tonight."

"Go ahead," April nodded smoothly.

Oliver stepped up next, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses with a single, precise finger.

"My scheduled trauma surgery at the central medical center begins in forty minutes. I must conduct pre-operative prep." His eyes flicked down to her feet for a brief, analytical second. "Continue wearing the proper alignment footwear."

"Good luck with the surgery, Doctor," April replied with a dry, knowing smirk.

With Xavier and Oliver gone—and Alexander still absent—the return journey to the estate was significantly quieter.

When the sedan pulled up to the grand entrance, Emily offered a tired, happy smile, bade them goodnight, and headed straight up the grand staircase toward her own room to rest.

April stepped out of her heels near the foyer, taking a slow breath as the quiet of the house wrapped around her. She turned toward the staircase, intending to head to her master suite.

Nat fell into lockstep right behind her.

He didn’t make a sound, but his broad shadow loomed over her as they ascended the stairs. Behind them, standing at the base of the staircase, Samuel watched with an unreadable, razor-sharp focus. His hands were clenched slightly at his sides, his dark eyes tracking Nat’s every movement, silently calculating his intent before after them.

April reached the door of her suite, her hand coming to rest on the polished brass handle. Before she could turn it, Nat closed the distance between them entirely.

His large, calloused hand came down over hers, trapping her grip on the handle. The heat radiating off his broad chest pressed directly against her back, his heavy frame boxing her in against the solid wood of the door.

"Nat," April murmured, her voice steady, though her pulse gave a sudden, involuntary jump against her throat.

"You’re real quiet tonight, sweetheart," Nat rasped out softly, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating directly against the shell of her ear.

He slowly pushed the door open just enough for them to slip inside, but instead of stepping fully into the room, he backed her straight against the door as it swung shut with a quiet, solid click. The closed door trapped them inside—leaving Samuel standing in the silent corridor just inches away on the other side.

Nat didn’t turn on the lights. The room was bathed in the cool, twilight glow streaming through the sheer balcony curtains.

He planted both palms flat against the door on either side of her head, trapping her completely within his shadow. His eyes burned in the dim light, heavy with a dark, deliberate intent that sent a sharp, intoxicating rush straight down April’s spine.

Her mind flicked back to the dream from that morning—the lingering memory of his heat, his touch, the raw weight of his devotion that had haunted her even in her sleep. She knew, with absolute clarity, that she wanted this just as intensely as he did.

"Nat..." April breathed out, her dark eyes looking up into his, her lips parting slightly.

"Don’t tell me to stop," Nat growled softly, leaning down until his lips were barely a breath away from hers. His large hand slid down from the door, his long fingers tracing a slow, burning path over her hip, hooking around the waist of her wine-colored dress to pull her flush against his solid body. "Because we both know you don’t want me to."

Nat’s mouth crashed onto hers before she could answer.

It wasn’t soft. It was hungry, claiming, the kind of kiss that left no room for hesitation. His tongue pushed past her lips the second she parted them, tasting her like he’d been starving for it all day. April’s hands came up instinctively, gripping the front of his dark shirt as he pressed her harder against the door.

The solid wood was cool against her back. Nat was all heat.

He broke the kiss just long enough to rasp against her mouth,

"Been thinking about this since last night. About bending you over and making you take it while that steward of yours stands right outside like a good little watchdog."

April’s breath hitched. Her fingers tightened in his shirt.

Nat’s hand slid under the hem of her wine-colored dress, his rough palm dragging up the outside of her thigh until he found the edge of her underwear. He didn’t bother easing them down. He hooked two fingers in the side and yanked, the thin fabric tearing with a sharp rip that sounded far too loud in the quiet room.

"You’re so impatient," she whispered.

He chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest.

"Hello, have you seen the look on your face? You look like a succubus, sweetheart."

She didn’t know if she was supposed to take that as a compliment.

Nat groaned low when his fingers found her already wet.

"Fuck... you’re soaked." His voice was unhinged and gravelly. "Were you thinking about this on the drive home, sweetheart? Sitting there all proper next to your sister while your pussy was dripping for this?"

He didn’t wait for an answer. He zipped down his zipper and nfreed his dick with one hand, the heavy, hard length of him springing free against her stomach. April’s eyes dropped almost instinctively—and the sheer size of him made her pulse jump. He looked so much bigger than sheremembered. She bit her bottom lip, but then recalled the most important thing.

"Nat... a condom."

A low, amused chuckle rumbled out of him. He reached into his back pocket without missing a beat, pulling out a foil packet between two fingers.

"Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got that covered."

He tore it open with his teeth, rolled it on in one smooth motion, then dragged the blunt head through her folds once, twice, smearing her wetness over the latex before lining up and pushing in.

One deep, relentless thrust.

April’s head fell back against the door with a soft thud, a sharp, broken sound tearing from her throat before she could stop it.

"Nat—!"

On the other side of the door, Samuel’s posture went rigid.