Chapter 10

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, casting golden patterns across the marble floors. I stretched beneath the silk sheets, my fingers brushing against the cold emptiness of Nathaniel's side of the bed. Again.

My phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Three missed calls from Gregory.

"Evelyn, thank God," Gregory's voice crackled through the receiver the moment I answered. "The Summit Realty deal is falling apart. Sebastian Wilson just pulled out of our waterfront project."

I sat bolt upright, the sheets pooling around my waist. "What? We signed contracts last week!"

"Apparently Edward Martin made him a better offer," Gregory said darkly. "Your father-in-law's been poaching our clients systematically since the wedding."

The bitterness in my coffee suddenly matched the taste in my mouth. I should've seen this coming. Richard Martin had never approved of his heir marrying an architect with "questionable family connections," as he'd so delicately put it at our engagement party.

The penthouse elevator pinged just as I was buttoning my blouse. Nathaniel strode in, his tailored suit immaculate despite the early hour, carrying two steaming cups from my favorite café.

"You're awake," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple. The familiar scent of his cologne - bergamot and something distinctly masculine - should have soothed me. Instead, it made my throat tighten.

"We need to talk about your father," I said, accepting the coffee but setting it aside untouched.

Nathaniel's smile faded. He loosened his tie with one hand, a telltale sign of stress. "Let me guess. Summit Realty?"

"Isabella told you?" The name slipped out before I could stop it. His ex's involvement with Martin Group's acquisitions department had been a point of contention since day one.

His jaw tightened. "Don't."

"Don't what? Point out that your family is systematically destroying my career? That your father would rather bankrupt my firm than see me succeed?" My voice broke on the last word.

Nathaniel gripped my shoulders, his touch firm but gentle. "Listen to me. I have a solution." He reached into his briefcase and slid a folder across the kitchen island. "The Blackwood Estate renovation. It's yours if you want it."

I flipped open the file. The project was massive - a historic manor on fifty acres that would put my firm on the map. My breath caught at the renderings. "This is... but how? The Martins don't own Blackwood."

"Not yet." Nathaniel's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his expression darkened. "I have to take this. Think about it. The decision needs to be made by noon."

As he stepped onto the balcony, I caught the tail end of his conversation. "...told you to handle it discreetly, Samuel. If Isabella interferes again..."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the proposal and a growing sense of unease. The Blackwood project was everything I'd ever wanted. But at what cost? And why did I get the feeling Nathaniel wasn't telling me everything?

My phone buzzed again. Unknown number. The message contained a single photograph: Nathaniel and Isabella, heads bent close together at some dimly lit restaurant, taken last night. The timestamp read 11:47 PM.

Right around the time he'd claimed to be working late.

The elevator doors opened once more, but this time it was Alfred, our butler, looking uncharacteristically flustered. "Madam, there's a... situation at the lobby. A Ms. Davis is demanding to see Mr. Martin. She's quite insistent."

As if on cue, Isabella's shrill voice carried down the hallway. "I know he's here! Tell him if he doesn't come down right now, the whole world will know what really happened in Milan!"

The coffee cup slipped from my fingers, shattering against the marble like the fragile illusion of my marriage.

Evelyn lifted her gaze to meet Nathaniel's, her voice steady. "Yes, I've already told them."

"Why didn't you consult me first?" His tone was sharp, his expression unreadable, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

Evelyn studied him, perplexed. Why is Nathaniel reacting like this? Because I informed the Martins about our divorce without his approval?

She arched a brow. "What’s there to discuss? We’re finalizing everything on Monday, aren’t we? Since that’s settled, my family knowing shouldn’t concern you."

His jaw tightened. "Are you that eager to cut ties with me?"

The question caught her off guard. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Nathaniel, need I remind you? You were the one who brought up the divorce."

He’s the one desperate to be free of me.

Nathaniel’s frown deepened, his voice low and rough. "There was no need to rush. We could’ve waited until everything was official. Now my grandfather knows. We’re expected at the manor tonight."

Evelyn exhaled sharply, realization dawning. Ah. So that’s it. Edward found out, and now Nathaniel’s plans are disrupted.

She forced a calm smile. "Relax. I’ll handle Grandpa. He cares about me—he’ll understand."

Nathaniel’s gaze darkened as he took in her composed expression, the utter lack of hesitation in her words. An unfamiliar irritation coiled in his chest.

How can she be so indifferent?

Before the divorce, Evelyn had been warm, attentive. They’d never fought, never clashed. But since yesterday, she’d been nothing but cold, her words laced with quiet barbs.

Is it because I was the one who ended things first?

His eyes traced the delicate curve of her face, the effortless elegance that had always drawn attention. Evelyn wasn’t just beautiful—she was unforgettable.

A thought nagged at him, one he couldn’t shake.

What kind of man was her ex that she’d sacrifice our marriage for him?

Their arrangement had been clear from the start: he married to appease Edward; she married to sever ties with her past.

But now, the idea left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His voice dropped, rough with something unspoken. "Evelyn… after this, will you go back to him?"

She stilled, then let out a soft, incredulous breath. "No."

"Why not?"

Her gaze was distant. "What’s done is done. People move on. For all I know, he already has."

Nathaniel watched her closely, searching for any flicker of emotion. "He didn’t want to let you go back then. Maybe he’s still waiting."

Evelyn shrugged, her tone light but final. "People change. No one waits forever."

The words were as much a reminder to herself as they were to him.

If chasing leads nowhere, why keep running?