CHAPTER 13: FIRST QUESTIONS, FIRST RULES
ARORA'S POV
The city lights of Manhattan glittered outside the penthouse windows, a vast, indifferent canvas to the tumultuous new reality I now inhabited. The adrenaline of the escape had faded, replaced by a buzzing awareness of Nathaniel's presence, and the mountain of questions between us. I had chosen to stay, to face this bewildering, fated connection head-on. But staying didn't mean understanding.
"So," I began, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled after my decision. I chose to sit on a separate armchair, giving us both space in the enormous living room. "First question: your condition. The allergy to women. The... erectile dysfunction." The words felt clinical, stark, for something so deeply personal. "Jake said you'd had it for years. How did it start?"
Nathaniel, who had been watching me with an intensity that could almost feel like a physical touch, took a deep breath. He moved to the opposite armchair, mirroring my posture, a respectful distance between us. "It developed gradually in my late teens. Started as mild discomfort, then escalated rapidly. Rashes, difficulty breathing, debilitating nausea, constant fatigue. And the other... issue," he finished, his jaw tightening briefly. "It made any intimate contact impossible. A living hell, frankly." His gaze swept over me. "Until you."
He didn't elaborate on the "until you" part, but he didn't need to. I felt it, the lack of static in the air, the easy way he occupied space near me, something I now understood he couldn't do with any other woman. It was unsettling, profound.
"And no one... no doctor, no treatment, ever helped?" I pressed.
He shook his head, a dark shadow crossing his face. "Billions spent. The best minds. Every experimental treatment. Nothing. They diagnosed it as a hyper-immune response, an extreme, specific allergy to a protein complex found almost universally in women. An anomaly. They called it 'Dawson's Syndrome' privately. But publicly, it was a 'mystery illness' that kept the reclusive billionaire isolated." He gave a humorless laugh. "The media ate it up."
That explained the "reclusive billionaire" image, the whispers. And the motivation behind the show. "And Elara Thorne... your aunt. She knew about this 'cure' plan all along?"
"From the beginning," Nathaniel confirmed, his voice hardening. "She's always been obsessed with legacy, with continuing the family line and influence. My condition was a 'stain' on that. She funded the research, the global search, the... monitoring of individuals with unique biological profiles. You were the only match."
My blood ran cold. Monitoring. "So they found me through that university medical test. The 'random' screening."
He nodded, grimly. "Yes. It was a fishing expedition, funded by the Thorne Foundation. A dragnet for anomalies like you. When your results came back... clean... they initiated phase two: the scholarship, the visa, the subtle nudges to get you to New York. The show was the grand finale. The perfect, public way to bring you into my orbit without suspicion, to test the 'cure' under controlled conditions." His eyes met mine, a flicker of remorse in their depths. "I'm sorry, Arora. Truly. I never knew the full extent of their manipulation until Jake told me, and then when Elara took you."
"Jake," I said, remembering his uneasy expressions, his cryptic hints. "He knew all of this?"
"He did," Nathaniel admitted, his voice tight. "He was pressured, threatened. But he eventually came clean, helped me get to you. He was trapped too, in a way."
I leaned back, trying to absorb it all. My entire life, steered. My fate, dictated. It was infuriating, violating. Yet, it had led me to him, to this impossible connection that literally changed his life.
"Okay," I said, taking a slow breath. "New rule, then. No more secrets. No more lies, from anyone. If we're going to explore... whatever this is, it has to be on absolute truth."
Nathaniel's intense gaze softened, a hint of respect entering his eyes. "Agreed. Absolute truth. Anything else?"
I thought about the vastness of the city outside, the millions of people who now knew a distorted version of our story. "What about the world? The media? They think I'm your... cure."
He gave a wry smile. "They do. And we can't exactly deny the truth of my improved health when you're around. But we can control the narrative. We'll start with a joint statement addressing the unethical practices of the Thorne Foundation, distancing ourselves from the show's manipulation. We'll tell them we're cooperating with authorities. Beyond that..." He shrugged. "We live our lives. They'll talk, they'll speculate, but they'll eventually move on to the next scandal."
"And us?" I pressed, my heart thrumming. "Nathaniel... what are we?"
He leaned forward, bridging the small gap between us. His hand reached out, gently cupping my cheek. No allergic reaction. Just the warmth of his skin, the intensity of his gaze. "We are two people whose lives were entangled by fate, by a cruel illness, and by a desperate scheme. But we're also two people who found something truly unique and undeniable in that chaos. For now," he murmured, his thumb stroking my skin, "I think we're just... us. And we figure out what that means, together."
The warmth of his touch spread through me, a quiet current of certainty amidst the lingering confusion. This wasn't a fairy tale, not quite. It was stranger, more complex, and utterly, irrevocably real.