Chapter 5
Nathan's POV
I caught Lily just before she hit the floor, her slight frame tumbling from the stool in her cramped kitchen. My arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her into a princess carry. The scent of lilies—soft, delicate, unmistakably her—filled my senses, and a flush crept up my neck. Her chestnut curls cascaded over my arm, catching the dim light, and her brown eyes, so alive and piercing, locked onto mine. My pulse quickened, a strange thrill coursing through me, like standing on a bridge swaying in the wind. Her arms looped around my neck, her face so close that our lips nearly brushed. The air crackled, and for a moment, I forgot who I was, who she was—just her warmth, her breath, her gaze pulling me in.
I hadn’t felt this before, not like this. That night three months ago, I was drunk, my memory hazy. I barely registered her face, only her name—Lily—and the heat of the moment. I hadn’t cared then, driven by desire, not connection. But now, holding her, I couldn’t ignore the pull. I remembered seeing her at Skyline Nightclub later, pulling her away from some sleazy guy pawing at her. I’d noticed the mark on her chest, a faint scar, and guilt hit me like a fist. I owed her an apology for that night, for using her and walking away. But I was a Sullivan, a man tied to the mafia’s world. Emotions were a liability, a weakness I couldn’t afford. Yet here I was, my heart betraying me, stirring with something I didn’t want to name.
Our lips hovered dangerously close, and I saw her eyes widen, her cheeks flush. Then, reality snapped back. I set her down gently, stepping back to break the spell. “Your place is a mess,” I muttered, my voice rougher than intended. “I’ll have my housekeeper, Martha, come by to help clean up.”
Lily blinked, still flustered. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary—”
“It’s done,” I cut her off, already pulling out my phone to call Martha.
Martha arrived within the hour, her warm presence filling the tiny apartment. She bustled into the kitchen, her gray hair tied back, her eyes scanning the space with a mix of disapproval and determination. “Miss Lily, what a cozy place you have!” she said, her tone kind but pointed. “A bit cluttered, but nothing a good scrub won’t fix.”
Lily smiled awkwardly, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Thank you, Martha. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“Nonsense, dear,” Martha replied, already pulling cleaning supplies from her bag. “Mr. Sullivan insists on taking care of his people, and I’m happy to help.”
I leaned against the counter, watching them. Lily’s nervousness was palpable, her hands fidgeting as Martha chatted about her favorite cleaning tricks. “You must eat properly, Miss Lily,” Martha said, glancing at her. “You look a bit pale. I’ll bring over some of my creamy pasta next time—it’s Mr. Sullivan’s favorite.”
Lily’s eyes flicked to me, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”
The domesticity of it all unsettled me. I wasn’t used to this—small talk, warmth, connection. My mind drifted to Lily’s pale face earlier, the way she’d brushed off her vomiting as a bad stomach. I didn’t buy it, but pressing her felt wrong, like crossing a line I wasn’t ready for.
Martha’s voice pulled me back. “Mr. Sullivan, you’re awfully quiet tonight. Early night for you, isn’t it?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Got some things to handle, Martha.”
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but turned back to Lily. “You work at that nightclub, don’t you, dear? Must be exhausting, all those late hours.”
Lily nodded, her expression guarded. “It pays the bills.”
Martha hummed, wiping down the counter. “Well, you take care of yourself. Every bill you pay alone is a badge of your courage.”
I glanced at Lily, her curls catching the light, and felt that guilt again. She was more than just a dancer at Skyline, more than a fleeting moment. But I was a Sullivan, and my world didn’t allow for more.
“Martha, why don’t you join us for some food?” I asked, needing to shift the mood. “Lily, you got anything in this kitchen?”
Lily laughed, a soft sound that hit me harder than it should. “Just some instant noodles.”
Martha gasped, mock-horrified. “Noodles? Oh, no, we’ll have to fix that. Next time, I’m bringing a proper meal.”
We settled at Lily’s small table, the three of us cramped but oddly comfortable. Martha kept the conversation light, asking Lily about her favorite music, her shifts at the club. I stayed quiet, watching Lily’s face brighten as she talked. She was guarded but genuine, her laugh rare but real. My chest tightened, and I hated it. I didn’t do feelings, didn’t do attachments. So why couldn’t I stop looking at her?
“Mr. Sullivan, you ever think about settling down?” Martha asked suddenly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced between me and Lily.
Lily choked on her water, her cheeks reddening. I shot Martha a warning look. “Not my thing, Martha. You know that.”
She shrugged, undeterred. “Never say never, dear. Life has a way of surprising you.”
I snorted, brushing it off. “I don’t believe in soulmates or any of that nonsense.”
“What about children?” Martha pressed, her voice softer now. “Don’t you want a family someday?”
My jaw tightened. “No. I’m not bringing a kid into this life.” I felt Lily’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look at her. My world was too dark, too dangerous. I’d told my father I’d run the family business, but I drew the line at dragging an innocent life into it. Richard had laughed, said I’d change my mind like he did. I wouldn’t.
Martha sighed, standing to clear the table. “Well, Miss Lily, you rest up. And you, Mr. Sullivan, don’t work too hard.”
Lily smiled warmly. “Thank you, Martha. You’re too kind.”
As Martha packed up, I stepped outside to take a call. The night air was cool, but my mind was restless. Lily’s face, her scent, her eyes—they wouldn’t leave me. I was supposed to keep her safe, not get tangled up in her. But every time I saw her, that resolve cracked.
Back inside, I found Lily alone, Martha already gone. “You okay?” I asked, my voice low.
She nodded, but her eyes were tired. “Yeah. Thanks for… everything.”
I wanted to say more, to apologize for that night, for the way I’d ignored her after. But my phone buzzed, Richard’s name flashing on the screen. I stepped away, answering it.
“Nathan,” he barked, his voice tight with anger. “What the hell are you doing with Lily? You stay away from her, you hear me?”
My grip tightened on the phone. “What are you talking about?”
“You slept with her, didn’t you?” he roared. “Nathan, you have no idea who Lily is!”
The line went dead, leaving me staring into the dark. Who was Lily? Why did my father care so much?