Chapter 278

Eleanor Whitmore's words sent Nathaniel into a rage. With a sharp tug, he ripped off his tie, the silk fabric crumpling in his fist.

Evelyn actually thought he was the one who gave her those bank cards in the photo?

The realization stung. He had trusted her, only for her to flaunt such recklessness. Clearly, they needed to talk.

"Nat, I believe in you. Don't disappoint me," Eleanor teased, her voice laced with amusement.

But Nathaniel found no comfort in her words. Instead, frustration coiled tighter in his chest.

Clutching his phone, he stormed out of the study. The villa’s halls were as familiar as ever, yet something—or rather, someone—was missing.

Back in his bedroom, he fired off a text to Evelyn: "Care to explain your Instagram post?"

Evelyn had just finished her nighttime routine, her skin still warm from the shower, when the notification lit up her screen.

She blinked. Hadn’t they unfollowed each other?

Then it hit her—she’d re-followed him to return the hundred thousand dollars Julian had taken. Nathaniel had never accepted the transfer.

But why was he messaging her now, his tone icy?

Her fingers flew across the screen. "If you can’t figure it out, why bother looking?"

His reply was immediate. "Who gave you those six cards?"

She smirked. "Six different men, obviously."

Nathaniel’s jaw clenched. The memory of those well-dressed men at the hospital—undoubtedly from the Montgomery family—flashed in his mind.

Something wasn’t adding up.

He meant to call her, but his thumb slipped, hitting the video button instead.

Evelyn’s breath hitched when the invitation popped up. In three years of marriage, Nathaniel had never video-called her.

But then she remembered the mountains, the terror of being kidnapped—how he’d come for her without hesitation.

Swallowing hard, she answered. "Hello. What do you want?"

Nathaniel froze. He hadn’t expected her to pick up.

The screen showed Evelyn propped against her headboard, damp hair curling over the straps of her silk camisole. His gaze darkened.

"Don’t play dumb," he said, voice rough. "You know why I’m calling."

Evelyn arched a brow. "Enlighten me."

"I never took you for someone so shallow."

She laughed, sharp and bitter. "Really? Took you long enough. I’ve always valued appearances. Handsome face, good values—that’s why I fell for you."

Nathaniel stiffened.

"And now?" he asked quietly.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her phone. Even through the screen, he was unfairly attractive.

"What do you mean, now?"

"You said you loved me."

"That was then." She forced a smirk. "Plenty of fish in the sea, Nathaniel. If one doesn’t work out, I’ll find another."

The words twisted like a knife in his chest.

Evelyn’s view on love was fickle—one moment burning hot, the next ice-cold.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Finally, Nathaniel changed tactics. "Evelyn. What’s really going on between you and Julian?"