She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43 Divided Holidays

(Natasha)

1 find Chase in his study after breakfast, working through a stack of contracts with his sleeves rolled up and his reading glasses on.

He doesn’t wear them often. Only when he’s been staring at documents for too many hours and his eyes have finally surrendered to the strain.

I stand in the doorway for a moment before he notices me.

“I want to spend Christmas Eve at my townhouse,” I tell him, stepping inside.

“With my parents. They’re staying in Los Angeles through the new year, and I’d like one evening with just them and Lily.”

Chase sets down his pen and looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

I wait for the refusal.

For the cold reminder that Lily is a Warren and Christmas Eve at the estate is non-negotiable, because Eleanor has already color-coordinated the stockings and commissioned a photographer.

Instead, he pulls off his glasses and sets them on the desk.

“Fine,” he says.

I blink.

“That’s it?”

“Hendrik Morton arrives tomorrow afternoon.”

Chase leans back in his chair, the leather creaking under the shift of his weight.

“He’ll want to review the Bauer merger numbers and then spend three hours reminding everyone in the room that his family’s contribution to the partnership was more significant than mine.”

He picks his pen back up.

“I’ll have enough to manage without also mediating a holiday dinner.”

Hendrik Morton. Nathanial’s step-father and the iron patriarch of the Morton empire.

The name alone carries the kind of weight that makes even Chase Warren sound mildly inconvenienced.

“I’ll have her back by noon on Christmas Day,” I offer.

“See that you do.”

He’s already reading again.

I’m almost back in the hallway when he speaks again without looking up.

“Take Sarah with you. Lily will sleep better with some familiar faces around.”

It isn’t a question. But it also isn’t a cruel condition. It’s just Chase, making sure his daughter is comfortable.

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I’m sure Lily would be absolutely fine with only me around, but I’m not going to argue just for the sake of it.

Alright,” I agree.

Eleanor is significantly less gracious about it.

I find her in the fortnal dining room, directing the household staff on the placement of the Christmas centrepieces.

She turns when she hears my footsteps and her expression turns thunderous when I explain Lily and I will be spending the night with my family.

“Christmas Eve,” Eleanor repeats, setting down a silver candelabra with deliberate care.

“You intend to take my granddaughter away on Christmas Eve.”

“Just for one evening. My parents haven’t had enough time with her and they’ll be going home soon.”

Eleanor’s jaw tightens.

For a moment I can see the argument forming, sharp and ready, behind her eyes.

Then something shifts.

She smooths the front of her silk blouse and straightens one of the place settings that doesn’t need straightening.

“Hendrik Morton is not a man who would appreciate being overshadowed by an infant,” Eleanor says finally, in the tone she uses when she’s decided to concede something while making it clear the concession costs her.

“And I suppose your mother deserves time with the child.”

She pauses.

“Have her back before the Christmas portraits will be taken. I’ve already booked the photographer.”

She’s reminded me about the photo shoot at least ten times this week alone. I’m not likely to forget.

“We’ll be back by noon,” I confirm.

Eleanor gives a single, stiff nod and turns back to her candelabras.

I take that as a dismissal and make my exit before she changes her mind and decides to make a big deal about it

after all.

Back in my room, I sit on the edge of the bed and dial Mason before I’ve even fully closed the door.

He answers on the first ring.

“Natasha.”

His voice carries that particular warmth it always does, the kind that settles something restless in my chest.

“I have Christmas Eve free,” I tell him. “My parents, Lily, and me at the townhouse. Hendrik Morton is descending on the estate tomorrow and Chase needs to deal with him, so Eleanor let me take her without a fight.”

A short pause, and then a quiet, genuine laugh. “Hendrik Morton. I almost feel sorry for Chase.”

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