Chapter 13

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. The warmth of Nathaniel’s arm draped over her waist was comforting, but the events of last night still lingered in her mind like an unshakable shadow.

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 window, pulling back the curtains just enough to peer outside. The city was already alive, bustling with early risers and the hum of traffic.

A soft knock at the door startled her.

"Come in," she whispered.

Alfred, their ever-discreet butler, stepped inside with a tray of coffee and fresh pastries. "Good morning, Mrs. Martin. I thought you might appreciate some refreshments before the day begins."

"Thank you, Alfred," she murmured, accepting the tray.

He hesitated, then added, "Mr. Yates called earlier. He mentioned there’s an urgent matter requiring Mr. Martin’s attention at the office."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on the tray. "Did he say what it was about?"

Alfred shook his head. "Only that it was time-sensitive."

She exhaled slowly. Nathaniel had been working relentlessly lately, and she knew better than to assume it was just another business crisis. Not after what had happened with Isabella.

Setting the tray on the dresser, she turned back to the bed where Nathaniel still slept, his dark lashes casting faint shadows over his cheekbones. He looked peaceful, but she knew the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory.

"Evelyn, we need to talk. The Summit Realty deal is falling apart. Sebastian Wilson is making unreasonable demands."

She frowned. The Summit Realty project was supposed to be their biggest breakthrough—a chance to prove her firm’s worth beyond Nathaniel’s influence. If Sebastian was backing out now, after all the negotiations…

A hand brushed against her waist, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Morning," Nathaniel murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

She forced a smile. "Good morning. Samuel called—there’s something urgent at the office."

He sighed, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. "Of course there is."

Evelyn hesitated before adding, "Gregory also messaged. There’s trouble with Summit Realty."

Nathaniel’s expression darkened. "Sebastian again?"

She nodded.

He reached for his phone, already shifting into problem-solving mode. "I’ll handle it."

Evelyn placed a hand on his arm. "No. This is my project. Let me deal with it."

Their eyes locked—a silent battle of wills.

Finally, Nathaniel exhaled. "Fine. But if he gives you any trouble, you call me immediately."

She smirked. "I can handle Sebastian Wilson."

Nathaniel’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "I know you can. That’s what worries me."

The tension between them shifted, charged with something deeper.

Then his phone rang again, shattering the moment.

He glanced at the screen, and his expression hardened. "It’s Richard."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. His father never called unless it was bad news.

Nathaniel answered, his voice clipped. "What is it?"

She watched as his jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the phone.

When he finally hung up, his gaze met hers, stormy and unreadable.

"We need to go to the estate. Now."

Evelyn didn’t ask why. She already knew.

The Martins’ secrets were about to unravel.

Evelyn's eyes were distant, fixed on the passing scenery outside the car window. Nathaniel's voice, soft yet firm, pulled her back. "Don't overanalyze this. I promise they’ll adore you. Just focus on taking care of yourself, and leave everything else to me. Understood?"

A beat later, he ended the call.

Evelyn exhaled slowly, her tone measured. "Tell Isabella she has nothing to worry about. I won’t stand in your way. I’ll do everything I can to convince Edward to approve the divorce. Honestly, I’m more eager for this than you are."

She couldn’t delay any longer. The pregnancy was a ticking time bomb—one Nathaniel would discover sooner or later.

Nathaniel’s brows knitted together. He turned to study her profile. "Isabella was just making conversation. There’s no need to react like this. Divorce or not, my door will always be open for you. That’s a promise."

Evelyn’s expression remained unreadable. "I’m not reacting. It’s not worth the energy."

His jaw tightened. "Are you really in such a rush to end this?"

"Aren’t you?" she countered coolly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

Nathaniel watched the way the sunlight caught the curve of her cheekbone. "If that’s true, why wait until now to bring it up?"

Evelyn hesitated. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she shrugged. "No particular reason."

If only she could pinpoint the exact moment she’d fallen for him, maybe she could unravel this mess.

Nathaniel didn’t press further. He checked his watch. "Come with me to the hospital. Afterward, I’ll have the driver take you home."

"No. Just drop me here." Her refusal was immediate.

"We’re already near the hospital. It’s on the way," he reasoned. "I’m not reading into this. If it bothers you, I’ll have you taken home first."

"Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll grab a cab. Isabella’s waiting. You should go."

Few women would shove their husbands toward another woman like this. But Evelyn had no choice.

Even if she didn’t, Nathaniel would still leave.

"Fine. Suit yourself." His tone was icy as he signaled the driver to pull over.

Alone in the taxi, Evelyn returned to Pineview Villa.

By eight, she was already at her desk, laptop open. She dove into the investigation—tracing the anonymous accounts that had accused her firm of design theft. Hours of meticulous digging led her to an unsettling discovery.

The accuser was a decades-old construction company, reputable but unremarkable. At first glance, their design and hers bore striking similarities. But any professional would spot the glaring differences upon closer inspection.

That was the trap. Most outsiders wouldn’t know better.

Even with Gregory’s reassurance, the weight of the accusation pressed on her. "We know it’s original. That’s all that matters," he said during their late-night call.

Evelyn hummed in agreement, masking her unease. In their world, a plagiarism label stuck—truth be damned.

Gregory sighed. "I’ll reach out to some contacts at that firm. Don’t carry this alone. Whatever happens, I’ve got your back."

"Thanks, Gregory."

"Always."

She forced a smile before shifting gears. "We should also look into our own team."

His voice sharpened. "You think there’s a mole?"

The question hung between them, heavy with implication.