She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29 The Reprieve

(Natasha)

Sitting at the kitchen island in my townhouse, I stare blindly at the untouched mug of tea in front of me.

Mason paces the length of the room, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Just give me one week, Natasha,” Mason pleads.

He stops pacing and looks at me with desperate eyes.

“Don’t agree to his ultimatum yet. We have to at least try and fight him.”

“Two supervised visits a week, Mason,” I remind him, my voice hollow and exhausted.

“I can’t survive on that. Being without her hurts all the time.”

“I know,” Mason says softly.

He walks over and rests his hands on the counter.

“But if you move back in there, Chase traps you. He regains control of your life.”

Mason sighs, his hand once again going to his hair, which looks like a rat’s nest by now.

“My legal team is looking for a loophole. We might be able to force a temporary custody arrangement that doesn’t require you to live under his roof. Just give me seven days.”

Looking into his earnest face, I understand he only wants to protect me.

I nod slowly.

“One week, Mason. But I’m going to those supervised visits.”

The next afternoon, I stand trembling in front of the door of the nursery.

My heart races as I turn the handle and step inside.

Chase is sitting in a plush rocking chair by the window, holding our daughter.

He looks up when I enter and doesn’t say a single word.

He just gets to his feet, walks over, and carefully transfers the tiny bundle into my trembling arms.

Tears instantly blur my vision.

I press my lips to her soft curls, breathing in her sweet scent.

For the next two hours, the rest of the world disappears while I lose myself in the little miracle in my arms.

I feed and burp her. I change her nappy. Every tiny act is a gift.

Chase stays in the room the entire time.

He doesn’t hover, but he watches us closely.

“She needs a name,” Chase says softly, breaking the quiet silence during the second hour.

“My mother keeps pushing for Victoria or Elizabeth.”

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I look down at the perfect little girl in my arms.

She isn’t an Elizabeth.”

“I agree,” Chase replies. He steps closer, looking down at her tiny face.

“What do you want to call her?”

A name blossoms in my mind. It’s simple, beautiful, and perfect for her.

“Lily,” I whisper.

Chase tests the word on his tongue. “Lily. Lily Warren.”

He smiles. It’s a genuine, rare expression that softens his sharp, handsome features.

“It’s perfect.”

Naming her together feels like a fragile truce. But the brief peace shatters when the grandfather clock in the hallway chimes loudly.

My two hours are up.

“Time,” Chase says quietly.

Handing Lily back to him feels like tearing my own heart out of my chest.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from sobbing.

The drive back to my townhouse is a painful blur of fresh tears.

Thursday brings my second supervised visit.

Walking into the nursery, the tight ache in my chest eases the second Chase hands Lily to me.

I’m grateful that Eleanor and Sonia are nowhere to be seen.

Actually, the sprawling estate feels eerily quiet. Like it’s only me, Chase, and our daughter.

For two hours, we exist in a strange, peaceful bubble.

Chase proves yet again how natural he is with her.

When Lily fusses halfway through the visit, he knows exactly how to bounce her against his shoulder to settle her down.

He acts like a devoted, loving father.

It makes it incredibly hard to reconcile this man with the ruthless husband who took her from the hospital.

As the visit nears its end, my chest tightens with pure dread.

“Your time is up,” Chase announces, checking his watch.

He reaches out, taking Lily from my arms and the cold emptiness returns instantly.

“I’ll be back on Tuesday,” I tell him, forcing the words through a tight, painful throat as I turn toward the door.

“Wait,” Chase says.

The Poprieve

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