Chapter 188

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, she felt the weight of countless eyes upon her. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her fingers twitch at her sides. She had known this day would come—the day she would finally confront Isabella Davis, Nathaniel’s infamous ex-lover.

Isabella stood near the marble fireplace, her crimson dress clinging to her curves like liquid silk. A smirk played on her lips as she sipped champagne, her gaze flickering toward Evelyn with deliberate amusement.

"You must be Evelyn," Isabella purred, stepping forward. "I’ve heard so much about you."

Evelyn forced a polite smile, though her pulse quickened. "All good things, I hope."

Isabella’s laugh was light, almost musical. "Oh, darling, that depends on who you ask."

Nathaniel appeared at Evelyn’s side, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "Isabella," he greeted coolly. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

"Didn’t you?" Isabella tilted her head, her dark lashes fluttering. "I was invited, after all. Edward insisted."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on her clutch. Of course. Edward Martin, Nathaniel’s grandfather, had always been fond of Isabella. The old man had never hidden his disapproval of Evelyn, no matter how hard she tried to prove herself.

The room buzzed with whispers, the elite of high society watching the exchange like vultures circling prey. Evelyn straightened her spine. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

"Excuse me," she murmured, stepping away. She needed air.

Outside on the terrace, the cool night breeze kissed her skin. She exhaled slowly, willing her racing heart to calm.

A familiar voice startled her. "Running away already?"

Evelyn turned to see Gregory Wilson, her business partner, leaning against the railing. His expression was unreadable.

"I just needed a moment," she admitted.

Gregory studied her for a long beat before sighing. "Isabella’s always been a viper. Don’t let her get under your skin."

Evelyn scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You’re not the one she’s trying to destroy."

Gregory’s lips quirked. "No, but I know you. And you’re stronger than this."

She wanted to believe him. But as the distant sound of laughter drifted from inside, Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was only the beginning.

And she had no idea what Isabella was truly planning.

"Charlotte!"

Alexander Prescott's voice crackled with fury through the phone. "I'm giving you forty-eight hours to return. Otherwise, I'll come to Mayby myself."

"Go ahead. Unless you're not afraid of Wendy finding out."

"Do you honestly believe Wendy scares me? Do you think I won't set foot in Mayby just because you're using her as leverage?"

"I know you're not afraid of Wendy," Charlotte replied coolly. "But you are afraid of the Stanleys."

Silence. Then the line went dead.

She could practically feel his rage radiating through the phone.

Sinking onto the sofa, Charlotte exhaled sharply. The usual spark in her bright eyes had dimmed, replaced by a dull exhaustion. Her lips, usually curved in mischief, were pressed into a thin line.

Yet she didn’t regret her words. Hope was a dangerous thing—especially for something that was never meant to be hers.

Two days later.

October 17th.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the floor.

Nathaniel Martin’s birthday had arrived.

Evelyn was jolted awake by her ringing phone. Thomas Ellsworth’s cheerful voice greeted her. "Evelyn! I’m on my way to pick you up. Ready?"

"Mm."

She hung up, stretching lazily before rolling out of bed.

The night before, she’d told Charlotte about the trip—a birthday celebration at a secluded resort. She’d even extended an invitation, but Charlotte had declined with a vague excuse. Evelyn hadn’t pushed.

After a quick shower, she dressed in a breezy sundress just as Thomas pulled up.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Evelyn spotted Theodore Gene in the back. She recognized him instantly—the man Edward Martin had once tried to set her up with.

Theodore grinned. "Well, well. The infamous rumored girlfriend."

Evelyn smirked. "Funny. I’ve heard your name more than I’ve actually seen you."

They shared a laugh.

Thomas, ever the curious one, leaned in. "Rumored girlfriend? What’s this about?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Theodore teased.

"Come on, we’re friends! I won’t tell Nathaniel."

"He already knows."

Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. Theodore chuckled before elaborating, "Edward wanted me to marry Evelyn."

A beat of silence. Then Thomas snorted. "Nathaniel would murder you."

The car ride was filled with easy banter. Despite barely knowing them, Evelyn felt oddly at ease—no tension, no pretense.

An hour later, they arrived at the resort.

Felix was already there, flanked by two women—one a striking model with legs for days, the other a bubbly brunette. Staff ushered them to a private villa where an elaborate barbecue setup awaited. Later, there’d be a bonfire under the stars.

They’d barely settled in when tires crunched on gravel outside.

Felix whistled. "That’s gotta be Nathaniel."

The door swung open.

"Happy birthday, man!" Thomas clapped Nathaniel on the back. "You’re late, but we’ll let it slide since it’s your day."

Before Nathaniel could reply, Isabella Davis stepped out from behind him.

Dressed in a flowing white gown, she offered a demure smile. "Sorry for the delay, everyone. It’s my fault Nathaniel’s late."

A hush fell. Eyes flicked to Evelyn, but her expression remained unreadable.

Isabella feigned surprise. "Oh! Evelyn, you’re here too. I didn’t think you’d come."

Evelyn’s gaze sharpened. "Is that a problem?"