Chapter 126

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. Evelyn stirred awake, her body still humming with the remnants of last night's passion. Nathaniel's arm was draped possessively over her waist, his breathing deep and even.

She carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The marble floor was cool beneath her bare feet as she padded toward the ensuite bathroom. The reflection in the mirror showed flushed cheeks and tousled hair—undeniable evidence of their shared intimacy.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Mrs. Martin?" Alfred's voice was muffled through the door. "Mr. Edward has requested your presence in the study."

Evelyn frowned. Edward rarely summoned her directly. Something must be urgent.

"I'll be right there," she replied, quickly splashing water on her face.

By the time she dressed in a simple ivory blouse and tailored slacks, Nathaniel was awake, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smirk. "Running off so soon?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Your grandfather wants to see me."

His smirk faded. "Did he say why?"

"No. But I doubt it's for tea and pleasantries."

Nathaniel pushed off the frame, his expression turning serious. "I'll come with you."

She shook her head. "Let me handle this first. If it's business, you know how he gets."

He hesitated but finally nodded. "Fine. But if he gives you trouble—"

"I can handle Edward," she assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before heading out.

The walk to the study felt longer than usual. The manor was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint ticking of antique clocks lining the hallway. When she reached the heavy oak doors, she took a steadying breath before knocking.

"Come in."

Edward sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his sharp gaze fixed on a stack of documents. Winston stood beside him, ever the loyal shadow.

"You wanted to see me?" Evelyn kept her tone neutral.

Edward finally looked up, his piercing blue eyes assessing her. "Sit."

She obeyed, folding her hands in her lap.

"I've been reviewing the latest reports from the Summit Realty merger," he began, tapping a finger against the desk. "There are... discrepancies."

Her pulse quickened. "What kind of discrepancies?"

"Financial ones." He slid a folder toward her. "Missing funds. Unauthorized transfers."

Evelyn's stomach dropped as she flipped through the pages. The numbers didn't add up—millions unaccounted for.

"This isn't possible," she murmured. "I oversaw every transaction myself."

Edward's expression darkened. "Then explain how this happened."

Before she could respond, the door burst open. Nathaniel strode in, his jaw set. "What's going on?"

Edward's gaze flicked between them. "Your wife has some explaining to do."

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed. "Accusing her of something?"

"Just stating facts."

Evelyn stood abruptly. "I didn't take that money. But I will find out who did."

A tense silence settled over the room. Then Edward leaned back, steepling his fingers. "You have forty-eight hours."

Nathaniel stepped forward, his voice dangerously low. "Or what?"

Edward met his glare without flinching. "Or the board will demand answers—one way or another."

Evelyn grabbed Nathaniel's arm before he could say more. "We'll handle this."

As they left the study, Nathaniel's grip on her hand was almost painful. "We're not letting him pin this on you."

She exhaled shakily. "First, we need to find out who's behind it."

His jaw clenched. "I have a feeling I already know."

The unspoken name hung between them like a storm cloud.

Isabella.

Evelyn jolted awake to find Nathaniel burning with fever again. She rushed to prepare the antipyretics, her hands trembling slightly as she measured the dose. "We should get you to the hospital," she insisted, pressing the cool medicine cup against his palm.

"Absolutely not." His refusal came out raspy, raw with illness.

"Persistent fever leads to complications. An IV could speed up your recovery." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, avoiding his piercing gaze.

His fingers clenched around the sheets. "Eager to be rid of me, Evelyn?" The accusation hung thick between them. When she finally met his eyes, the glassy sheen in those usually sharp gray irises made her breath catch. Was that... moisture gathering at his lashes?

The observation startled her. While she'd never wanted this forced cohabitation, abandoning him in sickness had never crossed her mind.

Without answering, she straightened his blankets with unnecessary force. "If you won't go to the hospital, at least let Dr. Harrison administer an IV here. Pneumonia isn't something to gamble with."

"Call him then." Nathaniel turned his face toward the window, effectively dismissing her.

Thirty minutes later, Dr. Harrison's familiar knock sounded at the door. The physician took one look at his patient and sighed. "Rest and fluids. Standard protocol."

Evelyn hovered near the footboard. "Will he recover quickly?"

"With proper care." Dr. Harrison fixed Nathaniel with a knowing look. "Eat something substantial or we'll need that IV after all."

Nathaniel's glare could have melted steel. "Do I look fine to you? This is the second spike since midnight."

Evelyn intercepted the tension smoothly. "The fever's making him irritable, Doctor."

"Understandable." Dr. Harrison's lips twitched as he turned to Evelyn. "Fetch some water for his medication, would you?"

The moment Evelyn left, the physician's demeanor shifted. "Your grandfather mentioned pairing Evelyn with Theodore. You know how obedient that boy's always been. One word from me..."

Nathaniel's knuckles whitened against the sheets. "We're still legally married. Unless you want Theodore labeled a homewrecker..."

A chuckle escaped Dr. Harrison. "So you're skipping medication to keep her playing nurse. Clever."

"Delirious ramblings," Nathaniel muttered, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

"Whatever your game, remember your grandfather's condition. His health won't tolerate much stress." The doctor's warning hung in the air as Evelyn returned with the water.

"Administer these every six hours," Dr. Harrison instructed, handing Evelyn the pill organizer. "I'll take my leave—he's in capable hands."

The apartment plunged into silence after the doctor's departure. Nathaniel sat propped against the headboard, his chiseled features unreadable in the dim light. Evelyn studied the medication instructions to avoid that unsettling gaze.

"Take them," she said finally, offering the pills.

His fingers brushed hers as he accepted the dose. "I need food."

"There's takeout from Scarlett's. Here or the dining room?"

"Here." The single syllable carried exhaustion.

Evelyn nodded and turned toward the kitchen. Behind her, she heard the rustle of sheets and the soft click of pills being set aside—not swallowed. She paused mid-step but didn't turn around. Some battles, she'd learned, weren't hers to fight.