By Zephyria 
Nathaniel Miller looked down at me, saying something that sounded like either a bad joke or sarcasm. He was still smoking. I didn’t like this relaxed attitude of his.
“You’re wrong. Completely.”
I wanted to offend him, but Nathaniel Miller’s expression remained unchanged. It was as if he was willing to generously overlook this level of insolence.
Suddenly, I remembered that this man had compared me to a wild cat when speaking to Judge Regan. That made me even more upset, so after glaring at him once, I tried to leave. It was a silent signal that I would no longer deal with him, but at that moment, something unexpected happened.
“……!”
Suddenly, Nathaniel Miller reached out his hand. I barely managed to swallow a reflexive scream, but I couldn’t help letting out a sharp intake of breath.
For a moment, my eyes widened and my breath stopped. An eerie silence descended. All I could hear was the violent thumping of my own pulse. I felt dazed, as if the screams of my heart were pounding against my eardrums. It was only after the expression of the man looking down at me entered my field of vision that I finally managed to exhale.
He was staring at me with a surprised face—one I had never seen before. As if he hadn’t expected me to react this way, almost as if he were flustered.
That shouldn’t be possible.
I belatedly realized that I had overreacted. I felt embarrassed, but the tension in my body didn’t easily dissipate. Even as I slowly regulated my breathing, I didn’t take my eyes off him, imagining the absurd possibility that he might attack me the moment I let my guard down.
Nathaniel Miller stood still for a moment, his hand still suspended in mid-air. It felt as though he was waiting for me to calm down. No, there’s no way. Just as I was about to mock myself for having such frivolous thoughts, Nathaniel Miller moved his hand. As I reflexively took a step back, he gazed at me and pointed in one direction.
“My car is that way.”
I was speechless again. As I looked at him, dumbfounded, Nathaniel Miller spoke with a faint smile.
“Didn’t I say I’d help you?”
He added smoothly,
“Though you didn’t ask.”
Is he mocking me? Since this man isn’t the type to joke, he’s definitely being sarcastic.
“No, I…”
“Prosecutor.”
He cut me off just as I was about to refuse again. Suddenly, I caught the scent of pheromones. He continued speaking as sweetly as his pheromones, his voice low and sinking like a whisper.
“Do I really look so starved that I would force myself on someone who is injured?”
At those words, I felt utterly embarrassed. I had overreacted for no reason, making it seem as though I were rejecting a gesture of kindness. This was merely a simple act of consideration—the kind of moderate kindness any ordinary person would possess.
Could I really call this man an ‘ordinary person’?
Ignoring the question that suddenly popped up, I tried to say that wasn’t it. But he cut me off again and added,
“You don’t have to be so guarded. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
The corners of his mouth curved slightly.
“It would be troublesome if you couldn’t use your remaining leg, too.”
There were no holes in his logic. Nathaniel Miller was simply offering pure goodwill to someone who was wounded and had even collapsed before him.
Though it was a kind of benevolence that didn’t suit that man at all.
It was madness to readily trust the words of someone who had actually tried to rape me. However, his pheromones kept softening my guard, making it difficult to maintain my hostility. There was also the embarrassment of feeling like I was being overly cautious, and my physical condition was poor. I felt that if I ended up face-planting on the ground soon, I really wouldn’t be able to get back up. If that happened, wouldn’t it be the absolute worst? I wouldn’t know what was being done to me while unconscious.
Once my thoughts drifted that far, I ultimately chose practical gain over pride.
“If there’s another intention behind your kindness, I won’t just stand by.”
It wasn’t a very threatening statement. Between him, who couldn’t use one leg, and me, who had been beaten severely, I was in worse shape.
However, Nathaniel Miller gave a short laugh and turned around to walk away first, as if certain that I would follow.
I stood there for a moment, staring at his arrogant back. This is crazy.
The desire to end this disastrous day as quickly as possible kept pushing aside the uneasy feeling I had toward Nathaniel Miller. If I just endured a little longer, I could go home and rest. It was a short trip anyway. Compared to standing alone on the street in this mess trying to catch a taxi in the middle of the night, wasn’t it obvious which choice was more rational?
That man probably knows that, which is why he’s walking ahead so confidently.
The sound of a cane and footsteps mingled and echoed through the narrow alley. I followed him with a complicated feeling, staring at the broad back of the man who never once looked back.
I wasn’t particularly surprised when I saw the black Jaguar parked inside the paid parking garage. A man like him could probably buy a car like that every day. As I sat silently in the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt, Nathaniel Miller slowly started the car.
The Jaguar drove quietly through the dark night streets. Unexpectedly, contrary to my expectation that he would drive recklessly, he drove very smoothly. There was almost no shaking even when turning corners, which left me feeling a bit bewildered.
“……You drive yourself.”
Seeing the hand skillfully handling the car, I glanced down at his leg. Noticing my gaze, Nathaniel answered plainly.
“I’m capable of driving.”
Suddenly, I frowned.
“I wondered if you had already recovered and were just using the cane on purpose.”
It was a sarcastic remark, but there was a hint of suspicion behind it. A realistic realization followed—what possible benefit would such a ruse bring this man?—but Nathaniel merely wore an inscrutable smile.
“I don’t see your bodyguards today.”
Feeling like I had said something unnecessary, I changed the subject. He answered the disjointed topic slowly.
“I don’t keep them by my side at all times. I’m more than capable of protecting my own body.”
For some reason, his voice sounded as if it contained a laugh. Does he find this amusing? Nathaniel added in the same calm tone,
“I told you, didn’t I? If you had asked for help, I would have helped.”
He repeated what he had said earlier. As if it were my responsibility that he had merely watched. A man who spouts nothing but bullshit. I glared at him with hostility.
“How? By blowing a whistle?”