The President’s Mistake A Tale of Love and Regret novel Chapter 195

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Chapter 195 I’m Not So Sure… 

Nathaniel sank back into the sofa, fatigue etching itself onto his face as he gestured impatiently at everyone. “Leave, all of you!” 

Xavier and Hudson promptly exited the office. Freya, appearing as though she had just been roused from a dream, rose slowly in a daze and began to shuffle towards the door. 

Just as she was on the brink of leaving, Nathaniel’s voice halted her. 

“Freya!” 

Freya swiveled to face him. 

Their eyes met, each unable to decipher the other’s emotions. 

“Mr. Morgan?” Freya’s voice was unnervingly composed. 

A heaviness settled in Nathaniel’s chest, prompting him to draw a deep breath. “Once the East Saeville drafts are finalized, I’ll escort you to Porejimo.” 

Freya’s grip on her bag tightened ever so slightly as she flashed a small, reassuring smile. “Sure!” 

Nathaniel had anticipated more from her. 

He was beginning to feel unhinged. 

This version of Freya terrified him. He would have preferred if she had cried, screamed, or even cursed him upon sight. Her calm demeanor in his presence was suffocating. 

“You may leave now.” 

Freya nodded and turned towards the door. 

“We have a dinner engagement with the lady from Andala Corp tonight. You can freshen up at Newport Villa, Hudson will pick you up later.” 

Freya paused in her tracks. She nodded once more, then exited. 

The door clicked shut, leaving the office in silence. 

Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. He rose to his feet pacing towards the newly refurbished floor–to- ceiling windows. 

Time seemed to rewind to three years prior. 

He could almost see Killian’s bloodshot eyes boring into his soul, desperate to drag Nathaniel down 

with him. 

Yes, he had been standing right here. Nathaniel hadn’t anticipated George’s presence in the building 

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The Gomez family had declared bankruptcy, and all staff members were given a month’s leave. The building was virtually empty, save for a few security guards, but it seemed George had been lurking there too. 

Who knew what that fool had been up to, skulking around. He might have witnessed Nathaniel and Killian’s final confrontation. 

Nathaniel hadn’t said much. He remembered Killian questioning his true identity. 

He had claimed to be the son of Zander Morgan. His mother was Valeria Flores. 

To his disgust, Killian hadn’t even mentioned Nathaniel’s father’s name once, even on the verge of death. He had only inquired about Nathaniel’s mother. 

Nathaniel had endured a childhood of agony and trauma to reach this day, and he was determined to claim what he deserved. 

If his guess was correct, Killian had loved Valeria wholeheartedly. 

Killian had the audacity to ask Nathaniel about his mother’s wellbeing, so he had told him the harsh truth. 

Nathaniel revealed to Killian that his mother had been forced to work in the red light district, tormented by clients until she succumbed to illness. 

She hadn’t even died in a hospital. 

Nathaniel would forever remember that rainy day. His mother lying on a rural street, her clothes ripped and ragged as she drew her final breath. 

He had been a child then, wailing as he cradled his mother’s lifeless body in his arms. He had later asked her superior about the incident, who revealed that his mother’s client that day had been monstrous and repulsive. There had been several of them, too. 

A little over a decade later, Nathaniel tracked down those individuals himself and personally dispatched them to hell. 

Nathaniel relayed all of this to Killian, his tone eerily calm. Even Nathaniel found it peculiar in 

retrospect. 

Perhaps he had grown accustomed to the pain, having endured a lifetime of it 

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