Chapter 163

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 whispers like rustling leaves in the wind. She tightened her grip on Nathaniel’s arm, drawing strength from his steady presence beside her.

“Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. “They’re just curious.”

She forced a smile, though her pulse raced. The Martins’ annual gala was more than just a social event—it was a battlefield of alliances and veiled threats. And tonight, she was walking into it as Nathaniel’s wife.

Across the room, Isabella stood with Vanessa, her sharp gaze locked onto Evelyn. The former flame had returned, dressed in a daring crimson gown that screamed for attention. Evelyn exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t let Isabella rattle her. Not tonight.

Gregory approached, handing her a flute of champagne. “You look stunning,” he said, his voice low. “But you’re gripping that glass like it’s a lifeline.”

She loosened her fingers with a quiet laugh. “Just nerves.”

“Don’t let them see it,” he advised. “Half these people are waiting for you to stumble.”

Nathaniel’s hand settled at the small of her back, warm and reassuring. “They’ll be disappointed.”

Before she could respond, Edward Martin stepped onto the raised platform at the far end of the hall. The murmurs ceased instantly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice carrying effortlessly. “Tonight, we celebrate not just our company’s achievements, but the future of the Martin legacy.” His gaze flicked to Nathaniel and Evelyn. “A future that is now brighter than ever.”

Isabella’s smile tightened.

Evelyn straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t back down. Not from the whispers, not from the glares, and certainly not from the woman who still thought she had a claim on Nathaniel.

The game was on. And this time, she was playing to win.

A part of Evelyn still wished Nathaniel would deny it. It might sound cliché, but when it came to love, everyone had their selfish moments.

She met his gaze evenly, refusing to answer his question. Instead, she countered, "How do we revive the stalled project? Can we at least keep innocent parties like Summit Realty out of our personal mess?"

Nathaniel's expression remained unreadable, his features as still as midnight waters—cool, deep, and unsettling. His voice matched that calm, but his eyes held a sharp edge as he replied, "If you stay married to me, you can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?"

"Naturally. You are my wife, after all."

Evelyn let out a humorless laugh.

"Nathaniel, you really don’t understand me, do you? I despise people who can’t separate business from personal vendettas, who resort to threats and manipulation. Even if I had doubts about this marriage, your tactics only solidify my decision to go through with the divorce."

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of irritation darkening his gaze. "Evelyn, are you absolutely certain?"

"If I say yes, are you going to erase my company from Mayby?"

"Most likely." A cold smirk curved his lips, devoid of warmth, radiating nothing but arrogance. "So choose your words carefully."

"Yes, I’m certain about the divorce. And I mean it." Her voice was steady, her eyes unwavering, refusing to yield.

They stared at each other, tension crackling between them. Nathaniel’s expression remained icy, his displeasure evident in the tightness of his jaw. After a long, piercing look, he turned on his heel, slid into his car, and drove off without another word.

But Evelyn understood that look all too well.

It was a warning.

Don’t regret this.

But at this point, regret wasn’t an option.

She had never once reconsidered her decision.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her—both mentally and physically. The thought of returning to her empty apartment was unbearable, and going back to her family was out of the question. So, she drove to the office instead. Even though the project was on hold, there were still blueprints to organize, alternative solutions to brainstorm.

This project meant more to her than any other. She had poured herself into it since the early days of her pregnancy, enduring every hardship alone. She refused to let it go.

Parking outside the office building, Evelyn decided to grab a quick bite. She had rushed to the Martin estate that morning, surviving on nothing but a single slice of toast.

As she passed the café downstairs, her gaze landed on a familiar figure—Gregory.

But he wasn’t alone.

A woman sat across from him, her back turned. Long, silky hair cascaded down her shoulders, and even from behind, she looked striking.

Evelyn hesitated, then chose not to interrupt. A small, relieved smile touched her lips before she continued on her way.

Back in the office, Gabrielle immediately followed her inside, buzzing with gossip. "Ms. Mitchell, did you see? A gorgeous woman just showed up for Mr. Wilson! But he didn’t seem happy at all—he actually told her not to come to the office again. Do you know who she is? Is she his girlfriend?"

"Gregory wasn’t happy?"

"Not at all! He looked annoyed, but she didn’t seem to care. Then he left with her."

"How gorgeous are we talking?" Evelyn asked, amused by Gabrielle’s enthusiasm.