Rejected: A love story

Chapter 175: The mark

"I don’t have to explain myself to you," Nathan spat, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Fiona is gone. I know that better than anyone. Whatever you think you saw or whatever you think I’m feeling, you’re wrong."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night?"

"You can lie to the world, Nathan, but you can’t lie to her ghost. She’s in that house, isn’t she? Not the Russian girl. The memory. And you’re over there trying to replace her because you’re too weak to stay alone. It’s disgusting."

"I said stay out of my head, Natasha!" Nathan roared. He felt a tear prick his eye, but he brushed it away angrily. "I’m hanging up. Don’t call this number again."

"Go back to her then," Natasha laughed, a sound that made him feel uncomfortable. "Go back and pretend you aren’t falling for a fake. But just remember, every time you touch her, you’re erasing Fiona. Sleep well, Nathan."

The line went dead.

Nathan remained in the darkness of the forest for a considerable period of time. There was an eerie silence all around. Her words were venomous and had penetrated deeply within him. Nathan ran his fingers across his lips. He felt nauseated. It seemed as if he had just spat all over Fiona’s grave.

I don’t have a soft spot for her, he told himself, but the words felt like a lie.

"I can’t." He said again trying to control himself.

He turned around and started walking back toward the house. His facial expression hard like stone. He decided right then that he wouldn’t look at Viktoria again. Not like that. He would be the boss. He would be the businessman. He would be cold, hard, and distant. He had to be, or he would lose what was left of his mind.

He reached the front door and pushed it open. The warmth of the house felt wrong. He saw Alex standing near the stairs, looking worried.

"Sir? Is everything okay? You were out there a long time," Alex said.

Nathan didn’t even look at him. He just kept walking toward his study. "I’m fine. Did you find anything on the cameras?"

"Not yet, sir. But—"

"Then keep looking," Nathan snapped. "And tell the Russian woman to stay in her room. I don’t want to see her for the rest of the night."

He slammed the study door shut and locked it. He sat at his desk, staring at the dark wood, trying to forget the way her hair felt between his fingers. He had to stay the Ice King...for Fiona.

#########

The silence of the house was broken by a sharp, pained cry from the upstairs bedroom. Viktoria, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed in a daze, jumped up instantly. She rushed to Mateo, who was tossing and turning, his face already in a deep, scary red colour.

"Mateo? Baby, look at me," she whispered, placing her hand on his forehead. She pulled her hand away as quickly as she could when she felt how hot his skin was. "Nathan!" she yelled, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t supposed to talk to him. "Nathan, help!"

She didn’t wait, she scooped the sobbing boy into her arms and ran out of the room. She arrived at the same time Nathan opened the door himself, looking rather exhausted and frustrated. But seeing Mateo, he went pale instantly.

"He’s burning up," Viktoria cried, her voice shaking. "He was fine some hours ago. Nathan, we need a doctor."

Nathan reached out, his hand trembling as he touched the boy’s cheek. He pulled back as if he’d been burned. "We can’t get a doctor out here at this hour. The roads are narrow and we’re off the grid. Plus, if anyone follows the doctor, we’re exposed."

"I don’t care about the grid!" Viktoria screamed, holding Mateo tighter. "He’s shaking, Nathan! Look at him!"

Nathan grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found a private name. Dr. Aris. It was the Keith family physician, the only man Nathan trusted with his life. It took four rings before a sleepy, gravelly voice answered.

"Nathan? It’s two in the morning."

"Aris, listen to me," Nathan said, his voice hard but steady. "I have a two-year-old boy here. He’s got a massive fever. Skin is dry, he’s shivering, and he’s barely conscious. What do I do?"

There was a pause on the other end. "I can’t get to the villa until morning, Nathan. You have to handle this yourself. Do you have a thermometer?"

"No," Nathan said, looking at the empty shelves.

"Doesn’t matter. If he’s that hot, you need to cool him down slow. Do not put him in ice water—you’ll shock his heart. Get him into a lukewarm bath. Just above room temp. Keep him in there and sponge his chest and head. Do you have any children’s medicine?"

"No," Nathan muttered, feeling like a failure.

"Then it’s the bath and fluids. Keep him drinking water. If he starts seizing or his breathing gets shallow, you bring him to the city, security be damned. Call me back in thirty minutes."

Nathan hung up and looked at Viktoria. She was pale, her eyes wide with terror. All the tension from the kiss, all the anger from Natasha’s phone call—it all vanished.

"The bathroom. Now," Nathan commanded.

He followed her into the large stone bathroom. He turned on the taps, testing the water until it was just slightly warm. "Give him to me," he said.

Viktoria hesitated for a split second, then handed her son to him. Nathan took the small boy into his arms. Mateo was whimpering, his head lolling against Nathan’s shoulder. As Nathan lowered him into the water, he felt a strange, sharp pain in his own chest. The boy felt so small, so fragile.

"I’ve got you, little man," Nathan whispered. It was the softest Viktoria had ever heard him speak.

Viktoria knelt by the tub, grabbing a sponge and soaking it. She began to rub the water over Mateo’s small back. Nathan sat on the edge of the tub, his expensive trousers getting soaked, but he didn’t care. He held Mateo’s head up, making sure the water didn’t get in his face.

For the next twenty minutes, they worked in total silence. They were so close their shoulders were touching. Nathan’s eyes never left the boy’s face. He watched every breath Mateo took. He saw the way the boy’s dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks—the same way his own did.

Slowly, the shivering stopped. Mateo’s breathing became deeper, more regular. His skin started to feel less like a furnace.

"He’s cooling down," Viktoria whispered, her voice thick with relief. She looked up at Nathan.

The bathroom was humid and silent apart from the noise made by the drips falling from the tap. Nathan was seated on the edge of the bathtub, with his shirt sleeves pushed up and his costly clothes drenched with water. But he did not seem to mind at all. All his attention was on the small child lying beside him.

While the slightly warm water was cooling down Mateo’s body, Nathan’s eyes were staring at an insignificant black mark below the boy’s ears. His heart missed a beat. This was no ordinary birthmark but a very particular one that resembled a cracked star.

**************

The shiver that Nathan got was not due to the chilling effect of the water, but from something else. That was a mark that belonged to only one family, which is the Keith family. It existed on his father, him, and his grandfather as the symbol of the family’s heir, passed through generations. He never told anyone anything about it, neither did he share any news of its existence with the newspapers and even to his close friends. Not even Fiona knew about it.

Looking into that mark, he quickly concluded that there is no way Mateo would belong to Nikolai. This boy was indeed a Keith, who was Nathan’s own son.

Viktoria sensed the seriousness in the look Nathan gave Mateo. She ceased rubbing the boy’s back using the sponge and looked directly at Nathan with worried eyes. "What’s happening? Are things getting worse?"

He stared at the mark, his mind racing. If Mateo had that mark, there was no way he was Nikolai’s son. This boy was a Keith. He was his son.

Nathan immediately placed his hand over the mark, his fingers shaking slightly. He tried to make sure that his expression was as unemotional as possible to hide the fear he felt from seeing the tattoo. But he couldn’t say anything. If he mentioned the thing to her and she turned out to be fake, she would hold more control over him than before. And if not...

"Nothing," Nathan said through gritted teeth. "It just seemed like he had a rash. But it’s nothing now. His fever is going down."

"He is going to be alright," Viktoria breathed out as she leaned her head on the side of the bathtub. Relief tears now streamed down her cheeks. "Thank you, Nathan. I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t for you."

The guilt that Nathan felt because of his kiss began to shift into something else in the way that he looked at her. It was more than just guilt; it was his burning need for answers..