Chapter 1

"Congratulations, Mrs. Martin! You're expecting, and your baby is perfectly healthy."

The doctor's words echoed in Evelyn's ears as she clutched the ultrasound report, her fingers trembling slightly. Shock and exhilaration warred within her—she could hardly believe it.

"You'll need to schedule regular check-ups. Where's your husband? I should brief him on prenatal care."

Evelyn blinked, snapping back to reality. "He couldn't make it today," she replied with a tight smile.

The doctor frowned. "No matter how busy he is, he should be here for you and your child."

By the time Evelyn stepped outside, a light drizzle had begun. She placed a hand over her still-flat stomach, marveling at the tiny life growing inside her.

Nathaniel's baby...

Her phone buzzed. A message from her husband.

"It's raining. Bring me an umbrella."

An address to an upscale billiards club followed.

Evelyn frowned. Nathaniel had claimed he was in meetings all day. Still, she didn’t hesitate. She instructed the driver to take her there.

At the club entrance, she dismissed the car. "You can go. I’ll leave with my husband."

The rain had intensified by then, drumming against the pavement. Holding the umbrella tightly, Evelyn entered the lavish club, her mind still spinning with the news of her pregnancy.

Should I tell him now? Or wait for his birthday?

She reached Room 203 and raised her hand to knock—then froze.

The voices inside turned her blood to ice.

"Seriously, Nathaniel? You actually think your wife will show up with an umbrella? Does she really believe you’d ever get wet?"

"She’s so obsessed with you, it’s pathetic."

A low, mocking chuckle. "Ridiculous."

Evelyn recognized that voice instantly.

Through the half-open door, she saw Nathaniel lounging in a leather chair, his sculpted features sharp under the dim lighting. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, he exuded effortless dominance.

His friend tossed his phone back with a smirk. "Relax, man. Why so possessive over your phone?"

"Because unlike you, I don’t enjoy wasting time."

"Please. If Isabella weren’t here, you wouldn’t even let us touch it."

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

Isabella.

A name she hadn’t heard in years. A ghost from Nathaniel’s past.

Inside, the group’s attention shifted to the elegant woman in white seated beside Nathaniel. She smiled demurely. "Stop teasing him. It’s not funny."

Her friend snorted. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you’re the only woman who ever mattered to Nathaniel."

"Right? Ask him yourself—he’d say the same."

Isabella glanced at Nathaniel, who merely smirked and stayed silent.

The room erupted in laughter.

"See? No one compares to Isabella!"

Evelyn’s grip on the umbrella tightened until her knuckles turned white.

Nathaniel’s phone buzzed. He typed quickly, then tossed it aside.

A second later, Evelyn’s phone vibrated.

"Don’t bother. Go home."

She stepped back, her heart pounding.

Outside, the rain poured harder. She pulled the ultrasound from her pocket—the ink had smudged beyond recognition.

She had wanted to surprise him.

Instead, she had been the joke.

With a bitter laugh, she tore the paper to shreds and let the wind carry them away.

Back at the Martin estate, the butler gasped when he saw her drenched state.

"Mrs. Martin! Good heavens—come inside!"

Servants swarmed around her, wrapping her in towels, fussing over hot baths and ginger tea.

No one noticed the sleek black car pulling up outside.

Nathaniel strode in moments later, his expression unreadable.

"What happened?"

Evelyn, curled on the sofa, didn’t look up.

"Sir, Mrs. Martin was caught in the storm," a maid explained.

His gaze darkened as he took in Evelyn’s shivering form—her damp hair clinging to her pale skin, her lips colorless.

"What the hell were you thinking?" His voice was sharp.

Evelyn forced a smile. "My phone died. I saw a child without an umbrella, so I gave him mine."

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "You’re pregnant, and you risk getting sick for a stranger?"

The maids exchanged nervous glances.

Evelyn kept her eyes down, fighting back tears.

Without another word, Nathaniel scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, Evelyn emerged, composed.

Nathaniel was on the sofa, typing on his laptop. He gestured to the steaming cup beside him. "Drink it."

She picked it up but didn’t sip.

"Nathaniel."

He didn’t look up. "Hmm?"

She studied his sharp profile, her throat tight.

Finally, he met her gaze.

Fresh from the shower, her cheeks were flushed, her lips no longer pale. But exhaustion lingered in her eyes.

Something flickered in Nathaniel’s expression—something hot and possessive.

Before she could speak, he pulled her into a searing kiss, his hands rough against her skin.

She barely had time to react before his phone rang.

He pulled back, his voice rough. "Drink the tea. Rest."

Then he was gone, answering the call on the balcony.

Evelyn stood frozen.

The night breeze carried his words inside.

"I won’t leave you. Sleep well."

His tone was tender—a side of him she had never known.

She laughed softly, bitterly.

Of course. That gentleness wasn’t for her.

She turned away.

When Nathaniel returned, she was sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.

"Still awake?"

The mattress dipped as he sat beside her.

She didn’t look at him.

"I need to talk to you."

She already knew what was coming.

"Let’s get a divorce."

Her breath caught.

"Isabella’s back. I made her a promise." His voice was cold.

Evelyn closed her eyes.

"Is there no other way?"