Chapter 8: Crossing the Line

Faith acted quickly.

On the night of the fifth day, she brought a man dressed as a handyman into my room.

The scent of motor oil and sawdust clung to his clothes. “This is my brother, Grant, young Mrs.”

Hearing this, I raised an eyebrow and looked at Faith. “Grant?”

Faith lowered her head. “Yes, this is my older brother. He works at the county courthouse as a bailiff. After you gave the order that day, I thought of my brother.”

"This is my brother Grant. He works courthouse security. He’s good people—won’t say a word."

Only then did I take a closer look at the man kneeling on the ground.

He had the broad shoulders and steady hands of someone used to hard work. Sharp eyes, strong jaw, high cheekbones—indeed, quite handsome.

“Since that’s the case, let him stay.”

Faith hurriedly withdrew.

I took off my robe, revealing the thin nightgown underneath.

The air in the room felt electric, charged with possibility and rebellion. Leaning over, I lifted Grant’s chin. “Do you know why I asked you here?”

He met my gaze steadily. “Naturally… to help you have a child.”

His words were low, almost respectful—a pact sealed in the flicker of lamplight. “Heh.” I curled my lips. “Since you know, why not get started?”

I leaned against the bed, watching Grant remove his shirt.

No wonder he works at the courthouse—his figure is indeed good.

His skin was warm under my fingertips, breath slow and steady. The moment his hand touched my shoulder, the door was suddenly kicked open.

“Derek, you can’t go in!” Faith’s anxious voice rang out.

Immediately after, Derek’s figure suddenly appeared before me.

His eyes widened at the sight, his jaw dropping in disbelief. He saw the scene in front of him, his pupils shrank, and he quickly closed the door.

Derek froze in the doorway, face turning white as chalk. He slammed the door shut, voice cracking: "Natalie, what the hell is going on?"

I met his eyes, daring him to judge me. This time, I wasn’t the one left in the dark.