Chapter 165

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the marble floors of the Martin estate as Evelyn stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her fingers tracing the delicate condensation on her glass of iced tea. The quiet hum of the mansion was disrupted only by the distant chatter of staff preparing for the day.

Nathaniel entered the room, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders. "You're up early," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement as he loosened his tie.

Evelyn turned to face him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Couldn't sleep," she admitted. "Too much on my mind."

He crossed the room in a few strides, his presence commanding yet comforting. "Still thinking about the project?"

She nodded. "The deadline is tightening, and Gregory keeps pushing for changes. I just—" She exhaled sharply, frustration evident in her tone.

Nathaniel’s hand found hers, his grip warm and reassuring. "You’ll figure it out. You always do."

Before she could respond, the sharp ring of her phone sliced through the moment. She glanced at the screen—Isabella’s name flashed boldly.

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. "Why is she calling me?"

Nathaniel’s expression darkened. "Ignore it."

But curiosity gnawed at her. Against her better judgment, she swiped to answer. "Isabella?"

The voice on the other end was smooth, dripping with false sweetness. "Evelyn, darling. We need to talk."

Evelyn’s grip on the phone tightened. "About what?"

Isabella’s laugh was light, almost mocking. "Oh, just a little… history you might want to know about Nathaniel."

A chill ran down Evelyn’s spine. She met Nathaniel’s questioning gaze, her mind racing. Whatever Isabella had to say, it couldn’t be good.

"Meet me at the café on Fifth Avenue. Noon." The line went dead before Evelyn could refuse.

Nathaniel frowned. "What did she want?"

Evelyn swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "She claims she has something to tell me about you."

His jaw clenched. "Don’t go."

But the seed of doubt had already been planted. Evelyn squared her shoulders. "I have to."

Nathaniel’s eyes flashed with something unreadable—anger, concern, perhaps even fear. "Evelyn—"

She cut him off with a shake of her head. "I need to know what she’s talking about."

The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to slice.

And just like that, the fragile peace of the morning shattered.

The café was bustling when Evelyn arrived, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the murmur of conversations. Isabella sat at a corner table, her designer sunglasses perched atop her head, looking every bit the poised socialite.

Evelyn slid into the seat opposite her, her posture rigid. "Get to the point."

Isabella smirked, stirring her latte lazily. "Always so direct. I admire that."

"Cut the act," Evelyn snapped.

Isabella’s smirk faded, replaced by something colder. "Fine. Did Nathaniel ever tell you about his little… arrangement with my father?"

Evelyn’s breath hitched. "What arrangement?"

Isabella leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let’s just say, his rise to power wasn’t as clean as you think."

Evelyn’s nails dug into her palms. "You’re lying."

Isabella shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Believe what you want. But ask yourself—why do you think he’s so desperate to keep you away from me?"

The words settled like poison in Evelyn’s chest.

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "This conversation is over."

Isabella’s laughter followed her as she stormed out, the café door slamming behind her.

Outside, the city buzzed with life, indifferent to the turmoil raging inside her.

What if Isabella was right?

What if everything she knew about Nathaniel was a lie?

The thought was unbearable.

And yet, it refused to leave her.

Back at the estate, Nathaniel was waiting, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" he demanded.

Evelyn met his gaze, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "We need to talk."

The air between them crackled with tension.

Whatever came next, nothing would ever be the same.

Gregory's lips curled into a playful smirk. "So curious about my love life, Evelyn? Hoping I'll find someone soon?"

"Not at all," Evelyn quickly corrected, her cheeks warming at the implication. "I just care about you. If it's too personal, forget I asked."

She bit her lip, realizing she might have crossed a line. Some things were better left private.

After a beat of silence, Gregory's gaze deepened, locking onto hers. "Evelyn, it's not that I don’t trust you. You might have seen her around, but you don’t really know her. There’s nothing between us, so it’s not worth mentioning."

"Understood."

She nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Gregory shifted the topic smoothly. "Summit Realty has been blowing up my phone all morning, demanding to know when the project will resume. Given everything, what’s your stance? Are you staying with Nathaniel for the sake of the deal?"

Evelyn met his eyes calmly, her tone measured. "If they contact you again, tell them we need more time. There’s no quick solution. I’m doing everything I can, but this isn’t simple."

She deliberately avoided answering his last question.

Noticing her evasion, Gregory pressed further. "Evelyn, Nathaniel has frozen the project and ignored the divorce rumors online. Is this because of me? If so, I’ll talk to him—make it clear we’re just friends."

Evelyn shook her head. "Gregory, this has nothing to do with you. Why would you think that?"

"I just don’t want to be the reason you’re stuck in a difficult position. If I’m the problem, tell me straight. We’re partners, remember? We handle things together. I won’t let you suffer because of me. So, are you sure this isn’t about me?"

"Absolutely not. Don’t even go there."

She laughed lightly but expertly sidestepped the question about her marriage to Nathaniel.

Gregory didn’t push further. He didn’t want to upset her. Instead, he just watched her, his expression unreadable, his gaze growing heavier with something unspoken.

Back in his office, Gregory dialed a number. The call connected instantly.

"Lay low for now," he said coolly. "She noticed us at the café earlier. It’s not time for her to know yet."

The woman on the other end hesitated before replying softly, "Understood. But… when this is all over, will you really choose her?"

Gregory didn’t answer. He simply ended the call.

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, he stared down at the city below, feeling as if the ground beneath him was crumbling away.

7 p.m.

Evelyn arrived at the airport, and within minutes, she spotted a familiar figure at the arrivals gate. The woman wore a sleek black trench coat, knee-high boots, and a cascade of rich auburn curls framing her striking features.

They embraced tightly, and Evelyn whispered, "Charlotte, I’ve missed you so much!"