Lydia's POV
Mrs. Hale's request felt less like an invitation and more like a summons to the gallows.
"Mr. Karl would like you to meet his brother," she said, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "In the living room. Now."
My hands were shaking as I smoothed down my simple navy dress. I'd felt them the entire time I'd been caring for Mrs. Whitmore, ever since I'd left Karl's study and that charged, dangerous moment between us. The older woman had noticed, of course. She'd patted my hand with her frail fingers and whispered, "Storms are coming, child. Hold on tight."
I hadn't understood then. I was beginning to now.
The living room was a cathedral of wealth and cold beauty, high ceilings, imported marble, furniture that cost more than I'd earn in five years. Karl stood near the fireplace, his posture rigid, his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders. But it was the other man who commanded the room.
Nathan Whitmore was beautiful in the way a blade was beautiful, sharp, gleaming, and designed to cut.
He had Karl's height, Karl's strong jaw, but where Karl's presence was a wall you crashed against, Nathan's was a current that pulled you under before you realized you were drowning. His pale blue eyes found mine the moment I stepped through the doorway, and his smile was slow, deliberate, and entirely too knowing.
"You must be Lydia," he said, crossing the room with the grace of a big cat. He extended his hand, and I had no choice but to take it. His grip was warm, firm, and lasted a fraction of a second too long. "I'm Nathan. Karl's better-looking brother."
Despite my nerves, a startled laugh escaped me. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Whitmore."
"Please, call me Nathan. 'Mr. Whitmore' makes me feel ancient." His eyes crinkled at the corners, genuine warmth radiating from him. "And I have to say, if I'd known my brother was hiring someone as lovely as you, I would have come home much sooner."
"Nathan." Karl's voice cut through the air like a whip.
Nathan glanced at his brother, his expression innocent. "What? I'm simply being welcoming. You wouldn't want our guest to feel uncomfortable, would you?"
The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. I felt like I'd walked into the middle of a chess game where I didn't know the rules and definitely didn't know which piece I was.
"Miss Lydia has been invaluable in caring for Mother," Karl said, his tone carefully controlled. "Her dedication has been remarkable."
"I'm sure it has," Nathan agreed, but he was still looking at me, not Karl. "Tell me, Lydia, may I call you Lydia? how are you finding the Whitmore household? I imagine it's quite different from what you're used to."
There was nothing overtly offensive in the question, but something about it made my spine stiffen. "It's been a wonderful opportunity," I said carefully. "Mrs. Whitmore is a remarkable woman."
"She is," Nathan said softly, and for the first time, something genuine flickered in his expression. "I've missed her. Three years is too long to be away from family." His gaze shifted to Karl. "Don't you think, brother?"
"Some distances are necessary," Karl replied.
Nathan's smile sharpened. "Ah, yes. Your philosophy of emotional isolation. How's that working out for you?"
"Gentlemen," I interrupted, surprising myself. Both men turned to look at me, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "I should get back to work. Your mother will need her afternoon medication soon."
"Of course," Nathan said smoothly. "But before you go, I hope you'll join us for dinner tonight. I'd love to hear more about Mother's care, and I'm sure Karl would appreciate having someone civilized at the table to balance out my terrible influence."
"That's not necessary…" Karl started.
"I insist," Nathan interrupted, his eyes still on me. "Consider it a family tradition. We Whitmores are always better behaved when we have company. Isn't that right, Karl?"
The look Karl gave his brother could have frozen hell. "Lydia has a daughter to get home to."
Nathan's eyebrows rose with interest. "A daughter? How old?"
"Six," I said, my protective instincts flaring. I didn't like the way he'd perked up at that information, like a hound catching a scent.
"Six," Nathan repeated thoughtfully. "That's a wonderful age. Full of questions and curiosity. I imagine she keeps you quite busy."
"She does," I said, forcing a smile. "Which is why I should really…"
"Bring her," Nathan said suddenly.
The room went utterly still.
"Excuse me?" I managed.
"Bring your daughter to dinner," Nathan continued, his smile widening. "This house is far too somber. A child's laughter might do us all some good. And I'm sure Mother would love to meet her."
"That's not appropriate," Karl said, his voice tight with barely suppressed anger.
"Why not?" Nathan challenged. "Lydia is practically family at this point, caring for Mother Day in and day out. The least we can do is extend some hospitality. Unless…" He paused, his gaze sliding between Karl and me with disturbing perceptiveness. "Unless there's a reason you don't want Lydia's personal life mixing with ours?"
The trap was so smoothly set I almost didn't see it. If Karl objected too strongly, he'd confirm whatever suspicions Nathan already had. If he agreed, he'd be allowing Nathan access to Zoey, and the thought of my daughter anywhere near this dangerous, charming man made my stomach turn to ice.
"I appreciate the invitation," I said quickly, "but Zoey hasn't been feeling well lately. I'd rather not expose her to too much excitement."
Nathan's expression softened into something that looked almost like genuine concern. "I'm sorry to hear that. Nothing serious, I hope?"
"She's managing," I said, hating how much I'd already revealed.
"Well, if she's up for it, the invitation stands," Nathan said. "Karl can give you my number. I'd hate for you to feel isolated here, Lydia. This family can be… overwhelming. It helps to have allies."
The word allies hung in the air like a promise and a threat all at once.
"Thank you," I murmured. "I should really check on Mrs. Whitmore now."
I escaped the living room with as much dignity as I could muster, but I felt both men's eyes following me all the way to the door. Once I was in the hallway, I pressed my back against the wall and tried to catch my breath.
What the hell had just happened?
KARL'S POV
The moment Lydia disappeared, Nathan's mask of congeniality dropped like a stone.
"Well," he said, returning to his scotch. "She's not what I expected."
"What did you expect?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.
"Someone more… temporary. More forgettable." He swirled the amber liquid in his glass thoughtfully. "But Lydia is neither of those things, is she? There's substance there. Intelligence. And something wounded that makes her sympathetic." He looked up at me, his pale eyes calculating. "No wonder you're so protective."
"She's my employee. I'm protective of all our staff."
Nathan laughed, a cold, knowing sound. "Please, Karl. I've known you your entire life. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at her just now. Not even Claire."
The name was a slap, deliberately delivered. "Don't."
"Why not? It's been what, four years? Five? You can't mourn forever, brother. At some point, you have to accept that she made her choice."
"She made the only choice Father left her with," I shot back. "He destroyed her systematically until she couldn't see any other way out."
"Father gave her options. She simply didn't like them." Nathan's voice was infuriatingly calm. "But that's ancient history. Let's talk about current events. This thing with Lydia…"
"There's no 'thing' with Lydia."
"…is going to become a problem," Nathan continued as if I hadn't spoken. "The board already questions some of your recent decisions. If they find out you're emotionally compromised by a staff member, especially one with a sick child who's likely draining your resources…"
"How do you know about her daughter's illness?" I demanded.
Nathan's smile was patient, almost pitying. "I've been back for less than three hours, Karl. Did you really think I wouldn't do my homework? Zoey Carter, age six, diagnosed with leukemia fourteen months ago. Medical bills in excess of what Lydia could possibly afford on a caregiver's salary, even with your generous raises. It's a sad story. Compelling, even. The kind of story that makes a man want to be a hero."
Fury burned through my chest like acid. "If you think for one second that I'm going to let you use her situation against her…"
"Against her? Karl, I'm trying to protect you." Nathan set down his glass and faced me fully, his expression almost earnest. "This is exactly the kind of entanglement that could destroy everything you've built. A poor, desperate woman with a dying child? The optics alone are a nightmare. People will say you're taking advantage of her vulnerability. They'll say she's manipulating you for financial gain. And when it all falls apart, because it will fall apart, you'll be left with nothing but wreckage."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Nathan moved closer, lowering his voice. "I know you, brother. Better than you know yourself sometimes. You're drawn to broken things because Father broke you and you never learned how to fix yourself. But Lydia isn't a project, Karl. She's a person with her own agenda, her own needs. And those needs will eventually conflict with yours."
"Get out," I said quietly.
"I live here," Nathan reminded me. "Like it or not, we're stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. So let me give you some brotherly advice, free of charge." He placed a hand on my shoulder, and it took everything in me not to shrug it off. "Be very careful with Lydia Carter. Because if you're not, she'll either break your heart or break your empire. Possibly both."
He left me standing there, his words echoing in the sudden silence of the room.
I wanted to dismiss everything he'd said as manipulation. Nathan was a master at finding pressure points and applying just enough force to make you doubt yourself. But underneath his calculated cruelty was a kernel of truth I couldn't ignore.
Lydia was in danger. From Nathan, from the board, from the impossible situation I'd created by letting my feelings override my judgment.
And the worst part? I didn't know how to protect her without pushing her away.
LYDIA'S POV
I barely registered the bus ride home. My mind kept replaying the scene in the living room, the way Nathan had looked at me like I was a puzzle he was eager to solve. The way Karl had looked at me like I was something precious he needed to shield.
And underneath it all, the sinking realization that I'd stepped into something far more complicated than a job.
Zoey was waiting for me when I opened the door, her small face lighting up. "Mummy! You're home!"
I scooped her into my arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo. This. This was what mattered. Not Karl's tortured eyes or Nathan's dangerous charm. Just this small, fierce girl who was fighting every day to stay in this world.
"How was your day, baby?" I asked, carrying her to the couch.
"Miss Beatrice made me do math," she said, making a face. "But I got them all right! She said I'm smart like you."
"You're smarter than me," I said, kissing her forehead. "You're the smartest person I know."
She giggled, then grew serious. "Mummy, are you okay? You look worried."
I forced a smile. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just a long day."
"Was it the rich people?" she asked. "Are they mean to you?"
My heart clenched. "No, baby. They're not mean. They're just… complicated."
"Complicated how?"
How did I explain to a six-year-old that I was falling for a man I couldn't have, while his dangerous brother circled like a shark, and every choice I made could cost us everything?
"Grown-up complicated," I settled on. "Nothing for you to worry about."
But as I held her close, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, I knew I was lying. Because everything I did, every risk I took, every line I crossed, it all affected her.
And I was terrified I was about to make a mistake we'd both pay for.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, my heart jumping when I saw Karl's name.
Karl: Are you alright?
My fingers hovered over the screen. Was I alright? No. I was scared and confused and dangerously close to making choices I couldn't take back.
But I typed: Yes. Just got home.
Three dots appeared immediately, then disappeared. Then appeared again.
Karl: I'm sorry about Nathan. He can be… difficult.
Me: It's fine. He seems nice.
Even as I sent it, I knew it was a lie. Nathan wasn't nice. He was charming, which was far more dangerous.
Karl: He's not. Please, Lydia. Be careful around him.
Me: You keep saying that. What am I supposed to be careful of?
The three dots appeared and disappeared for a full minute. Finally:
Karl: Everything.
I stared at the message, a chill running down my spine. Before I could respond, another text came through.
Unknown Number: Hello, Lydia. It's Nathan. I convinced my stubborn brother to share your contact information. I hope you don't mind. I wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable today. That wasn't my intention. I also wanted to extend the dinner invitation again, no pressure, of course. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make your work here more pleasant. Welcome to the family.
I read the message three times, my instincts screaming that there was something wrong with the breezy, friendly tone. The way he'd said "family" felt less like warmth and more like a claim.
I didn't respond to either message. Instead, I held Zoey tighter, watching the city lights flicker through our window, and wondered how I'd ended up caught between two brothers in a war I didn't understand.
And why I couldn't shake the feeling that Nathan Whitmore already knew every secret I was trying to hide.