Chapter 174

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, illuminating the blueprints spread across her desk. Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the latest project—a luxury resort in the Maldives. The design was ambitious, but she thrived on challenges.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Gabrielle, her assistant, peeked in. "Mr. Wilson is here to see you."

Evelyn nodded. "Send him in."

Gregory strode in, his usual confident demeanor slightly frayed at the edges. "We have a problem," he said without preamble.

She arched a brow. "What kind of problem?"

"The investors for the Maldives project are getting cold feet. They're concerned about the timeline."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "We've accounted for every possible delay. What's really bothering them?"

Gregory hesitated before answering. "Rumors. Someone's been whispering that Martin Group is overextending itself, that Nathaniel might not have the capital to back this."

Her fingers clenched around her pen. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Gregory met her gaze. "You know how these things work. Perception becomes reality."

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel: Dinner tonight? I have something to discuss.

Her stomach twisted. Was this about the rumors? Or something else entirely?

Across town, Nathaniel sat in his office, staring at the financial reports spread before him. The numbers didn't lie—Martin Group was solid. But someone was deliberately undermining their projects, and he had a suspicion who it might be.

Samuel entered quietly. "Sir, Ms. Davis is here to see you."

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

Isabella swept into the room, her designer dress clinging to her curves, her smile as polished as ever. "Ben—Nathaniel," she corrected smoothly. "It's been too long."

He didn't return the smile. "What do you want, Isabella?"

She pouted. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"We were never friends."

Her eyes flashed, but she recovered quickly. "Fine. I heard about your little... troubles. I might be able to help."

His gaze turned icy. "How?"

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I have connections. People who owe me favors. But I’d need something in return."

Nathaniel leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Name your price."

Isabella smiled. "I think you already know."

Evelyn arrived at the restaurant early, her mind still racing. The elegant setting—soft lighting, white tablecloths, the faint hum of classical music—did little to calm her nerves.

Nathaniel arrived moments later, his presence commanding as always. But there was something in his eyes—a tension she hadn’t seen before.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, kissing her cheek.

She forced a smile. "What did you want to talk about?"

He hesitated, then reached for her hand. "There are things you should know. About Isabella."

Evelyn's breath caught. "What about her?"

Before he could answer, her phone rang. It was Gabrielle. "Evelyn, you need to come back to the office. Now."

"What's wrong?"

"It's the Maldives project. The investors just pulled out."

Her stomach dropped. She looked at Nathaniel, his expression grim.

"Go," he said quietly. "We'll talk later."

As she hurried out, one thought echoed in her mind: Someone is playing a dangerous game. And she intended to find out who.

Charlotte quickly backtracked, "Alright, I'll keep my mouth shut."

Evelyn glanced at Gregory before saying, "Charlotte didn't mean it like that."

"I know what Charlotte implied. I crossed a line. As business partners, we should be transparent about company matters. I'd expect the same from you if our roles were reversed."

Gregory's words made Evelyn nod in reluctant agreement.

He didn’t linger. His expression darkened before he strode out of the office.

Evelyn and Charlotte exchanged looks. Charlotte lowered her voice. "Did I mess up?"

"At least you're self-aware." Evelyn shot her a look before settling behind her desk. She wasn’t actually upset—if anything, Charlotte’s bluntness had done her a favor. Now Gregory understood their relationship was strictly professional.

Evelyn spent nearly the entire day at the office, with Charlotte keeping her company.

At lunch, they ate takeout ordered by Gabrielle. Evelyn couldn’t hide her surprise. Charlotte, the shopaholic, had willingly skipped her usual retail therapy?

She studied Charlotte, who frowned. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You’re acting strange. Isn’t it torture for you to be cooped up here with me?"

"If you’re so worried about me being bored, ditch work and go shopping with me."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, but before she could retort, her phone buzzed.

Nathaniel’s name flashed on the screen.

Charlotte saw it too and scoffed. "Don’t answer. Ignore him."

Evelyn had no intention of picking up. Whatever excuses he had for last night, she wasn’t interested.

She declined the call without hesitation.

He didn’t call back. A bitter smile tugged at Evelyn’s lips as she stared at her silent phone.

By six in the evening, Evelyn wrapped up work and left the building with Charlotte. But the moment they stepped outside, her phone rang again.

This time, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Get over here. I’m waiting in the car."

Evelyn froze, spotting the sleek black sedan parked nearby.

She didn’t move. "What do you want?"

"Evelyn, I said come here."

"Nathaniel, we can talk like this. I’m not alone."

"Should I arrange for Charlotte’s immediate return to Dattlech before you’ll cooperate?"

Evelyn wasn’t shocked he knew Charlotte’s name—Nathaniel always got what he wanted.

She stayed silent. The line went dead.

Charlotte frowned. "What did he say?"

"Go get the car." Evelyn handed her the keys. "He’s waiting. I’ll handle this."

"Fine." Charlotte didn’t argue. With Nathaniel parked outside, there was no avoiding him.

Once Charlotte headed to the parking lot, Evelyn turned toward the idling car.

The window rolled down as she approached.

Nathaniel’s voice was ice. "Get in."

Evelyn stood her ground. "Say what you need to say right here."

"My patience is wearing thin. This isn’t a negotiation. How many times will you test me?"