Chapter 142

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady, one arm draped protectively over her waist. She smiled, tracing the faint scar on his jaw—a remnant from the accident that had nearly taken him from her.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory: "Emergency meeting at the office. Summit Realty is making moves."

Evelyn sighed. She had hoped for a quiet morning, but business never waited. Carefully, she slipped out from under Nathaniel’s arm, pressing a featherlight kiss to his temple before heading to the shower.

By the time she emerged, wrapped in a plush robe, Nathaniel was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in hand. His expression was unreadable.

"Summit Realty?" she guessed, toweling her hair dry.

He nodded. "Sebastian Wilson is pushing forward with the waterfront project. He’s undercutting our bids."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on the towel. "He can’t just—"

"He can," Nathaniel cut in, standing. "And he will, unless we act fast."

She met his gaze, the intensity in his dark eyes sending a shiver down her spine. "Then let’s not waste time."

The office was in chaos when they arrived. Gabrielle, Evelyn’s assistant, rushed over, her tablet clutched tightly. "Gregory’s in the conference room with Jonathan Blake. Summit’s already sent revised contracts to our clients."

Evelyn’s jaw clenched. "Pull every file on the waterfront project. I want every loophole, every weakness in their proposal."

Gabrielle nodded and hurried off. Nathaniel’s phone rang—Samuel, his secretary. "Sir, Edward Martin is on line one. He wants an update."

Nathaniel exhaled sharply. "Tell him we’re handling it."

Evelyn touched his arm. "We are handling it."

His gaze softened slightly before he turned to address the team gathering in the conference room.

Hours later, Evelyn leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. The numbers weren’t adding up. Summit’s bid was suspiciously low—too low.

"There’s no way they’re turning a profit with these figures," Gregory muttered, flipping through the documents.

"Unless they’re cutting corners," Evelyn said slowly.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. "Or hiding something."

A knock interrupted them. Gabrielle stepped in, her expression uneasy. "You have a visitor. Isabella Davis."

The room went still.

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists under the table. "What does she want?"

Gabrielle hesitated. "She says it’s about Summit Realty."

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "Send her in."

The door opened, and Isabella strode in, her designer heels clicking against the floor. She looked as polished as ever, her smile razor-sharp.

"Long time no see," she said, her gaze flickering between them. "I hear you’re having a little problem with Sebastian Wilson."

Evelyn forced herself to stay calm. "What do you know about it?"

Isabella crossed her arms. "Enough to make it worth your while to listen."

Nathaniel’s voice was ice. "Get to the point."

She smirked. "Let’s just say… I have information that could bury Summit Realty. But it’ll cost you."

Evelyn exchanged a glance with Nathaniel. Whatever game Isabella was playing, they couldn’t afford to ignore it.

Not when so much was at stake.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Evelyn’s mind raced. Trusting Isabella was a risk—but so was doing nothing.

Nathaniel’s hand found hers under the table, squeezing gently. A silent promise: Whatever happens, we face it together.

Evelyn took a deep breath. "Alright, Isabella. Talk."

The smirk on Isabella’s lips widened.

And just like that, the game changed.

Nathaniel's voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. He didn’t wait for Evelyn’s response before ending the call abruptly.

His phone clattered onto the desk as he yanked at his tie, his sculpted fingers moving with barely restrained frustration. His gaze darkened, flickering toward Samuel with a chilling intensity. "Go to Martin Manor," he ordered. "Have my mother find out what Evelyn truly wants."

Why is she so determined to end this?

Is it really just because I don’t love her?

Does love matter that much?

Am I not enough?

The questions burned in his mind, unanswered. His jaw clenched as his eyes landed on the divorce papers sprawled across his desk. With a swift, violent motion, he tore them apart, scattering the pieces into the trash bin.

Then, without another word, he strode out of the office, his steps heavy with barely contained fury.

Samuel hesitated, catching a glimpse of the shredded document in the bin. The word divorce stood out starkly among the fragments, sending a jolt of shock through him. But he knew better than to question Nathaniel now. Swallowing his surprise, he hurried after his boss.

The tension in Martin Group was palpable that morning.

Nathaniel’s temper was a storm waiting to break. During the quarterly financial review, an oversight was uncovered—a misplaced decimal point that had cost the company nearly ten million in taxes.

His piercing glare swept over the trembling financial directors. "Am I paying you to sabotage my company?" His voice was dangerously low. "If you can’t do your jobs, get out. If you can, prove it."

No one dared to meet his eyes.

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, his hands resting on his hips. "Who here is willing to take responsibility for this loss? Speak up."

Silence.

The chief financial director wiped his brow, his voice shaking. "Mr. Martin, it was an honest mistake. We can correct it if given another chance—"

"I am giving you a chance," Nathaniel cut in, his tone glacial. "But tell me—who’s accountable? You? Or me?"

The man faltered, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

Nathaniel snatched the file from the desk and flung it at them. "If this hadn’t been caught in time, do you think you’d still have the privilege of standing here?"

The mistake had only been discovered because of the company’s rigorous financial checks—first by the internal team, then by the directors, and finally by the elusive auditor who operated remotely from abroad.

No one knew the auditor’s identity, but their sharp eye had saved Martin Group more than once.

The directors stammered apologies, their faces pale with fear.

Nathaniel’s patience was wearing thin when Samuel’s voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Martin, Ms. Davis is calling."

"Do I look like I have time for this?" Nathaniel snapped. "If I have to handle every call myself, what’s your purpose here, Samuel? Do you still want this job?"

Samuel stiffened. "Understood, sir. I’ll handle it." He stepped out immediately, rejecting Isabella’s call without hesitation.

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, waving a dismissive hand at the room. "Get out."

Once they were alone again, Samuel returned.

Nathaniel’s voice was eerily calm now. "Investigate them. I want to know if this was negligence—or something more deliberate."