What's Wrong With Being An Omega Nanny?-Chapter 93: Kneel And Beg! 2

Chapter 93: Kneel And Beg! 2
The grand living room of the Drago estate felt smaller than usual as the air was thick with tension that clung to the expensive furniture and crystal chandeliers.
Nathan lounged on the plush leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers drumming lazily on the armrest. In his hand was a small medical kit —the one meant for Elias, packed with whatever Dr Patel had prepared for him. He never thought a day would come when he’d play the role of a delivery boy, but here he is.
’No way I’m letting Viktor play hero with my saviour,’
he thought, his lips curling into a smug grin.
Across from him stood Clara, her designer heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she paced. Her face was flushed red, eyes blazing with fury. She’d been ranting for the past five minutes, ever since her father’s voice had boomed through the phone speaker, ordering her to kneel and beg Nathan for forgiveness. The words still echoed in her ears, each one a slap to her pride.
"Father, you can’t be serious," Clara hissed into the phone, her grip on it so tight that her knuckles turned white. "He’s just some spoiled Caldwell brat! He barged into our home, insulted me, threatened our family..."
"Clara," Mr Moreau’s voice cut through, low and dangerous, the kind of tone that made boardrooms fall silent. "I said kneel. Now."
Nathan watched the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He leaned back further, stretching his arms along the back of the sofa like he owned the place.
"Wow," he said, loud enough for the phone to pick up. "Your dad sounds really intense. You gonna do it or what?"
Clara’s head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Shut your mouth, Nathan Caldwell. This is between me and my father."
Mr Moreau’s voice returned, louder this time, laced with panic.
"Clara, listen to me carefully. You will apologise to Mr Caldwell. You will do it sincerely. And you will make sure the Moreau name stays far away from Elias Kane. Do you understand me?"
Nathan’s grin widened. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Hear that, Clara? Daddy’s probably scared. And he should be." He raised his voice just enough for the phone to catch every word. "Because if anything... anything... happens to Elias Kane, I will personally make sure the Moreau family disappears from every headline, every deal, every invitation list in this country. Starting with you."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Clara’s breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling as she stared at Nathan like she could burn holes through him. Finally, Mr Moreau spoke again, his voice trembling slightly.
"Mr Caldwell... Nathan... I swear on my name, the Moreau family will stay away from Elias Kane. We will not interfere. Please accept my deepest apologies for my daughter’s behaviour."
Nathan tilted his head, pretending to think about it. "Hmm. I don’t know, Mr Moreau. Your daughter did threaten to end my life. That’s pretty rude, don’t you think?"
"I... yes, of course," Mr Moreau stammered. "Clara will apologise. Right now. Won’t you, Clara?"
Clara’s jaw clenched so hard that Nathan thought she might crack a tooth. Her eyes darted between the phone and Nathan’s smug face, her hands shaking with barely contained rage. Slowly, mechanically, she lowered herself to her knees, the sound of her expensive skirt brushing the floor loud in the silent room.
"I’m sorry," she said through gritted teeth, the words forced out like poison. "I’m sorry for insulting you, Nathan Caldwell."
Nathan burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.
"Oh man, that was beautiful. You should’ve seen your face." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "But seriously, Mr Moreau, keep her on a leash. Next time, I won’t be so nice."
"Nathan, please," Mr Moreau said quickly. "We’ll do anything. Just... name your terms."
"My terms?" Nathan repeated, his voice turning cold. "Simple. Stay away from Elias Kane. Don’t look at him. Don’t talk about him. Don’t even think about him. If I hear so much as a whisper that any Moreau has gone near him, I’ll make sure your entire empire crumbles. And trust me, I can do it before breakfast."
Another beat of silence. Then: "Understood," Mr Moreau said, his voice small. "You have my word."
"Good." Nathan waved a hand dismissively. "Now, Clara, you can hang up. I think your dad’s done embarrassing himself for the day."
Clara’s hand trembled as she ended the call, the phone slipping slightly in her grip. She stayed on her knees for a moment longer, her head bowed, her breathing shallow. When she finally looked up, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears... not of sadness, but pure, burning hatred.
"You," she spat, rising to her feet. "You think you’re untouchable because of your last name? You think you can just waltz in here and humiliate me in my own home?"
Nathan shrugged, unfazed.
"Pretty much, yeah. Also, you humiliated yourself. I just watched." He turned to Gerald, who had been standing silently near the doorway, his face a mask of professional neutrality. "Hey, Gerald, right? Where’s Viktor’s room again? I’ve got something for Elias."
Gerald cleared his throat, stepping forward carefully.
"Mr Caldwell, as I mentioned earlier, Master Viktor’s room is soundproof. We cannot disturb him until he chooses to emerge."
Nathan rubbed his chin, pretending to consider this.
"So what you’re saying is... I just have to wait until he’s done helping Elias with his heat?" He said it loud enough for Clara to hear every word, watching her face twist in fury.
"You liar!" Clara shouted, taking a step toward him. "Viktor would never touch that filthy omega! He hates omegas! He’s engaged to me!"
Nathan raised an eyebrow.
"Engaged? Huh. Funny, because last I checked, he’s in there knot-deep in Elias right now. But sure, keep telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night."
Clara lunged forward, her hand raised as if to slap him, but Gerald stepped smoothly between them. "Miss Clara," he said calmly, "that would be unwise."
She froze, her hand trembling in mid-air. Slowly, she lowered it, her chest heaving. "Get out," she whispered. "Get out of my house."
"I’m afraid I can’t," Nathan said cheerfully, standing up and grabbing the medical kit. "I’m waiting for Viktor. Or Elias. Preferably Elias." He turned to Gerald with a bright smile. "Guest room, right? Lead the way, my man."
Gerald hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "This way, sir."
As they walked down the hallway, Nathan could feel Clara’s glare burning into his back. He didn’t look back, but he heard her mutter under her breath, "This isn’t over. I’ll make that nanny regret ever coming back here."
Nathan smirked.
’Try it, princess. See how far you get.’