Chapter 4 - Margaret’s Traps and Public Humiliation
Nathan froze, his arms still wrapped protectively around me. The stark contrast between the profound emotional intimacy we had just shared and the obnoxious, predatory screeching of his mother outside was jarring enough to snap anyone’s nerves.
He looked down from the court order on the bed to the locked door, his jaw clenching so hard muscles ticked along his jawline.
"Stay here," Nathan commanded in a low, dangerous tone that brook no argument.
He quickly stood up, grabbed his silk dressing gown, tied it securely around his waist, and strode across the room. He didn't just open the door—he wrenched it wide open with such force that Margaret stumbled forward, nearly losing her footing in the hallway.
Standing behind her in the dimly lit corridor were the house manager, two senior family relatives, and Marcus Vance—one of Nathan’s oldest, most sycophantic billionaire friends who had openly laughed at our wedding.
Margaret looked triumphant, holding a thick manila folder of her own, her face twisted into a mask of smug satisfaction.
"It's about time you opened up, Nathan," Margaret sneered, pushing past him into the master suite without an invitation. "I tried to warn you before you made the biggest mistake of your life, but you refused to listen. You let a penniless commoner wrap you around her little finger."
Nathan didn't move an inch from the doorway, blocking the rest of the gawking crowd from stepping inside. His voice was glacial. "Mother, you are standing in my bedroom on my wedding night. State your business or get out before I have security throw you down the stairs."
Margaret scoffed, stepping further into the room until her eyes landed on me. I had quickly pulled my robe back over my shoulders, clutching the fabric tightly across my chest, though the brown folder with the birth certificates and medical reports still lay exposed on the unmade bed behind me.
"Oh, put away the innocent act, Emily," Margaret laughed sharply, turning back to her son. "Did she tell you her grand backstory yet, Nathan? Did she tell you about her precious 'children' back in West Virginia? Because I hired a private investigator in Charleston, and I finally got the real dossier on your little bride."
Marcus Vance stepped into the doorway, grinning like a hyena at a feeding frenzy. "Come on, Nate. We all knew she was hiding something. Three kids by three different guys? It’s a gold-digger's playbook 101."
Margaret opened her manila folder with dramatic flair, pulling out several glossy printed surveillance photographs and legal summaries.
"Here is the absolute truth," Margaret announced loudly, projecting her voice so the staff gathered down the hall could hear every single syllable. "She didn't abandon three illegitimate babies. The court records from West Virginia clearly show that her parental rights were legally terminated, and those three children were placed into state-vetted foster care and adoption programs years ago!"
The room plunged into an absolute, suffocating silence.
Margaret looked at Nathan, expecting him to recoil in horror, to push me away, to finally admit she had been right all along.
Instead, Nathan stood entirely motionless, staring at his mother with an expression so terrifyingly empty and cold that Margaret actually took an involuntary step backward.
"Are you quite finished, Mother?" Nathan asked quietly.
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Margaret blinked, thrown off balance by his eerie calm. "Nathan... didn't you hear me? She lost her kids! She's a broken, unfit charity case who—"
"I heard every single word," Nathan interrupted, his voice rising in volume, cutting through the Carter mansion like a whip. "And now, it’s time you listen to me."
