Chapter 162

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, she felt the weight of countless eyes on her. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the assembled guests, their murmurs a low hum beneath the classical music. She tightened her grip on Nathaniel’s arm, drawing strength from his steady presence.

“Relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “They’re just curious about the woman who finally tamed me.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Tamed? You make it sound like I wrestled you into submission.”

Nathaniel smirked. “Didn’t you?”

Before she could retort, a familiar voice cut through the crowd. “Evelyn! Nathaniel!”

Isabella Davis glided toward them, her emerald-green gown shimmering under the lights. Her smile was polished, practiced—too perfect.

“Isabella,” Nathaniel greeted, his tone neutral.

Evelyn forced a polite smile. “You look stunning.”

Isabella’s gaze flickered between them, lingering on Nathaniel just a second too long. “I’m so glad you both could make it. Edward was just asking about you.”

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. Edward Martin’s approval meant everything in this world, and she still wasn’t sure where she stood with him.

“We should go say hello,” Nathaniel said, sensing her unease. He gave Isabella a curt nod before guiding Evelyn away.

As they moved through the crowd, Evelyn caught snippets of conversation—whispers about her, about Nathaniel, about their whirlwind marriage. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to let the gossip get to her.

Then she saw him.

Edward Martin stood near the fireplace, his silver hair gleaming, his posture as regal as ever. His sharp eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade away.

“Evelyn,” he said, his voice deep and measured. “I’ve been waiting to speak with you.”

Her pulse quickened. This was it—the moment she’d been dreading and anticipating in equal measure.

Nathaniel squeezed her hand reassuringly before stepping back, giving her space.

Evelyn took a steadying breath. “Edward.”

The old man studied her for a long moment before his lips curved into a faint, approving smile. “You’ve got fire. Good. This family needs that.”

Relief flooded through her, but before she could respond, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone’s attention.

A woman stood there, her presence commanding silence. Dressed in a sleek black gown, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, she was unmistakable.

Seraphina.

The legendary designer rarely made public appearances, and her sudden presence here sent a ripple of shock through the room.

Edward’s expression darkened. “What is she doing here?”

Evelyn glanced at Nathaniel, whose jaw had tightened. “I didn’t invite her,” he muttered.

Seraphina’s gaze swept the room before landing squarely on Evelyn. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

And just like that, Evelyn knew—this night was far from over.

Their so-called concern always managed to twist into her fault.

They urged her to apologize to Nathaniel—out of care, of course.

Everything they did was for her own good.

No matter what Evelyn said or did, they always spun it back on her, draping their accusations in the guise of love. The blame inevitably landed at her feet.

Evelyn almost laughed.

But she was used to this by now. With bitter amusement curling inside her, she tilted her head. "Since this has nothing to do with me, can I go?"

They looked to Nathaniel for permission, but he said nothing, his dark eyes locked on Evelyn. Unsure what to do, they fell silent.

Evelyn pressed her lips together and turned to leave.

Nathaniel’s gaze sharpened. He stood abruptly. William moved to stop him, murmuring something about company matters, but Nathaniel sidestepped him without a word and strode outside.

By the time he reached the driveway, Evelyn was already opening her car door. He caught her wrist, stopping her. His touch was warm, his voice deceptively soft. "Leaving without a word to me?"

She turned, their proximity sending a crackle of tension through the air. She met his gaze evenly. "Thanks for defending me. And sorry you had to see that mess."

Nathaniel lifted her chin with two fingers, his voice dropping lower. "That’s all?"

Evelyn blinked at him, silent.

He scoffed, his stare burning into her. His eyes were dark, stormy—full of something unreadable. "Why didn’t you fight back? Where’s that sharp tongue you always use on me? Evelyn, do I look like the only one you’re allowed to challenge?"

She tried to look away. "No."

"Then why stay quiet? Where’s that fire?" he pressed.

Evelyn said nothing.

Nathaniel exhaled roughly. "You looked like a wounded bird in there."

Her breath hitched. She met his gaze, her voice barely a whisper. "So now you’re going to pick on me too?"

Nathaniel smirked, but there was no humor in it. "If I wanted to pick on you, you wouldn’t still be standing here unharmed."

Evelyn knew he was right. If Nathaniel had played along earlier, her parents would’ve forced her to grovel at his feet by now.

He released her chin, instead brushing his thumb lightly over her cheek. His voice was low, almost intimate. "Look how they treat you without me. Evelyn, even now—are you still set on leaving?"

Her chest tightened.

His words were a reminder: without him, she was nothing. As Nathaniel’s wife, no one dared disrespect her. But once that title was gone? This would become her reality.

She swallowed. "Nathaniel, are you defending me just to change my mind about the divorce?"

He didn’t answer, just watched her with that unreadable gaze.

Evelyn continued, "But hasn’t our relationship always been separate from outside influence?"

Something flickered in his eyes—dark, dangerous. His voice was cool. "Reasons don’t matter. I just need to know one thing." He stepped closer, his breath brushing her lips. "Are you leaving me, no matter what?"