She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25 The Patriarch’s Demand

(Chase)

I close the nursery door quietly after making sure the baby is still sleeping peacefully.

The nurse promised to call me when she wakes and needs to be fed.

Walking down the long hallway toward my study, I realize that the house feels entirely different with my daughter/

here.

The quiet emptiness is gone.

Maybe it’s just me. Her presence fills something in me I never knew I was missing.

When I step into the study, my grandfather is already waiting for me.

He stands near the large window, leaning on his wooden cane.

“You should be at the office,” he says without turning around.

“My daughter needs me here,” I reply, walking around my desk to take a seat.

“I’m not leaving the estate.”

My grandfather turns to face me with a stern expression.

“Hiding in the house won’t fix the mess you made, Chase.”

“There is no mess,” I tell him, keeping my voice calm.

“Nathanial and I secured the Bauer merger yesterday. Jeffrey Bauer told Nathanial he’ll be signing with us.”

“Only because Natasha is in a coma,” my grandfather points out sharply.

“Bauer wanted to work with her. He chose your firm because she’s out of commission. You won by default.”

I tighten my jaw.

Hearing the truth hurts more than I want to admit.

I was on the verge of losing custody of our child.

The only reason she’s here with me is because Natasha’s fighting for her life.

I don’t feel good about any of it, but I’m not giving up my daughter.

“A win is a win,” I say. “The board of directors is happy.”

“I don’t care about the board,” my grandfather snaps, striking his cane against the floor.

“I care about this family. You let that Morton girl turn your head. Natasha is worth ten of her. She’s smart, loyal, and she built Warren Global right alongside you.”

“Sonia is pregnant with my child,” I remind him. “She came to visit today, and she expects a wedding.”

“Does she?” my grandfather scoffs.

“I see a girl desperate for a ring. I see a mistake Natasha is the woman you belong with. She’s the mother of your

first heir

I frown, feeling a spike of irritation.

“Natasha signed the divorce papers weeks ago. She wants out.”

“Have you signed them?” my grandfather fires back.

I freeze, remembering tearing them up in my office.

“I didn’t think so,” my grandfather says with satisfaction, stepping closer.

“If you really wanted her gone, you would have signed those papers and filed them. You haven’t done that because you know you made a terrible mistake.”

I stay silent, not willing to admit anything.

I’m not even sure if he’s right.

My grandfather leans over my desk.

“Natasha is in a hospital bed right now, fighting for her life. And you took her child while she’s unconscious.”

“I protected my daughter,” I argue defensively.

“Mason Stein has no right to make decisions for her. He’s not her family.”

“I’m not saying you made a mistake. I’m telling you to use the child,” my grandfather demands.

I stare at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Use the baby to bring Natasha home,” he says.

His voice drops to a serious, commanding tone.

“When she wakes up, she’ll be desperate to see her daughter. Tell her the only way she gets full access is if she drops the divorce and returns to this house.”

“I won’t use my daughter as a bargaining chip.”

“It’s not a bargain, it’s a rescue,” my grandfather insists.

“Bring your wife back. Come to an arrangement with the Morton girl about your child, and send her away.

My grandfather scowls deeply.

“And make sure you have a legally binding contract with Sonia Morton, because she doesn’t keep her word.”

Before I can ask what he’s talking about, he continues.

“If you let Natasha walk out of your life now, you will regret it forever.”

A sharp cry rings out from the baby monitor sitting on my desk.

My grandfather watches me as I jump to my feet immediately.

“Think about what I said, Chase,” he calls after me

Be a man and fix your family

bapto

+15 Pus

Ignoring him, I leave the study and hurry back down the hall to the nursery.

The nurse stands by the crib, trying to rock the baby, but the crying only gets louder.

Her tiny face is red, and her fists are clenched.

“Give her to me,” I say, stepping in and taking my daughter from the nurse’s arms.

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