Chapter 128

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, she felt the weight of countless eyes on her. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her fingers curl instinctively into fists. She had known this confrontation was coming, yet nothing could have prepared her for the storm brewing in Nathaniel’s stormy gaze.

"Evelyn," Nathaniel’s voice was low, controlled, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable. "We need to talk."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "I know."

The guests around them continued their conversations, oblivious to the silent battle raging between them. The clinking of champagne glasses and the soft hum of orchestral music only served to heighten the surreal tension.

Isabella, standing a few feet away, smirked into her wineglass. Her presence was like a shadow, always lurking, always waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Evelyn clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Nathaniel took her elbow, guiding her toward the balcony with a grip that was firm but not unkind. The cool night air hit her face as they stepped outside, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside.

"Explain," he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you go behind my back with the Summit Realty deal?"

Evelyn’s heart pounded. She had expected this, yet the accusation still stung. "I didn’t go behind your back," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I made a judgment call. The terms were better, and I knew you’d agree if you saw the numbers."

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "That’s not the point, Evelyn. We’re supposed to be partners. You don’t make decisions like that without consulting me."

She exhaled sharply. "And what about you? How many decisions have you made without telling me?"

The silence that followed was deafening. His expression darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might walk away. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This isn’t about me. This is about trust."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Trust. The word hung between them like a blade.

Before she could respond, the balcony doors swung open, and Gregory appeared, his face pale. "Evelyn, we have a problem. The permits for the waterfront project—they’ve been revoked."

Her stomach dropped. "What? Why?"

Gregory’s gaze flickered to Nathaniel before settling back on her. "Someone filed a complaint. Anonymous tip about zoning violations."

Evelyn didn’t need to look at Nathaniel to know what he was thinking. This was too convenient. Someone was sabotaging them.

And she had a very good idea who.

Her fingers curled into fists again as she turned back to Nathaniel, her voice barely a whisper. "We’ll handle this. Together."

For the first time that night, something flickered in his eyes—something that looked like hope.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

Because in the distance, Isabella’s laughter rang out, sharp and triumphant.

And Evelyn knew—the real battle had only just begun.

Evelyn stopped pressing for answers—it would only humiliate her further. She met Nathaniel's gaze calmly and murmured, "I need to sleep."

He studied her for a long moment before releasing her chin and turning away, settling back into his side of the bed.

Facing away from him, Evelyn shut her eyes. Though frustration coiled inside her, sleep eluded her—until Caroline’s advice echoed in her mind. "Stay positive. A mother’s mood shapes the baby’s temperament. A happy mother means a cheerful child."

She inhaled deeply, forcing her muscles to relax. Gradually, the tension ebbed, and she drifted into sleep.

Nathaniel lay awake, listening to her steady breathing. His chest tightened with something he couldn’t name. He stole a glance at her silhouette, the curve of her back, and an unfamiliar ache pulsed through him.

The night passed without dreams.

When dawn broke, Evelyn woke to find Nathaniel still asleep. She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb him.

In the kitchen, she warmed soup and toasted bread. By nine, he still hadn’t stirred. She pressed a hand to his forehead—no fever. Relief flickered, but concern lingered.

She debated waking him but hesitated. Instead, she stayed home, watching over him.

Nathaniel finally rose just before noon.

"Would you prefer soup or pasta?" Evelyn asked, her tone neutral.

They both avoided mentioning last night’s tension.

"Either is fine," he replied, voice rough with sleep.

"I’ll heat the soup."

Light meals were best after illness.

As she moved to the kitchen, Nathaniel sank onto the sofa, rubbing his temples. A dull headache throbbed behind his eyes.

Through the glass door, he watched her move—graceful, efficient. The sight was unfamiliar yet strangely comforting.

Is this what domestic peace looks like?

The doorbell shattered his thoughts.

Nathaniel rose and opened the door.

"Evelyn—" Gregory stood there, arms laden with packages. His smile faltered when he saw Nathaniel.

Nathaniel’s gaze dropped to the items in Gregory’s hands before flicking back to his face. "Mr. Wilson," he said coolly. "This is unexpected."

Gregory recovered swiftly. "Mr. Martin. Aren’t you going to invite me in?"

"Do you think it’s appropriate to visit a married woman’s home unannounced?"

"If you’re so happily married, why did Evelyn move out of Pineview Villa?" Gregory’s smile turned sharp. "What did you do to drive her away?"

The air between them crackled. Neither man looked away.

Nathaniel smirked. "Ah, you’re single. You wouldn’t understand how couples reconcile after arguments. As for why she left—must I explain our private affairs to you? Or should I spell it out? This is just how we play."

Gregory’s jaw clenched.

Nathaniel leaned against the doorframe, voice dropping to a taunt. "But since you’re here, I’ll clarify: Evelyn and I are trying for a baby. She’s going to be a mother soon. So, unless you want to disrupt that, I suggest you keep your distance."

Gregory paled. "What?"

Nathaniel’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "You heard me. We’re starting a family. Stay out of it."