Chapter 203

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden streaks across her blueprints. She tapped her pen against the desk, lost in thought. The Pineview Villa project was nearing completion, but something nagged at her—something she couldn’t quite place.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel.

"Dinner tonight? I have something to discuss."

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. Nathaniel had been distant lately, buried in Martin Group affairs. She typed back quickly.

"Of course. 7 PM?"

Before she could set her phone down, another notification popped up—this time from Gregory.

"Meeting with Summit Realty in 30. Sebastian Wilson is bringing Jonathan Blake. They’re pushing for revisions."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. Summit Realty had been relentless, demanding changes that compromised her vision. She grabbed her blazer and strode toward the conference room, determination in her steps.

The meeting was tense.

Sebastian leaned forward, his polished smile not quite reaching his cold eyes. "Evelyn, the investors want a more commercial appeal. Open spaces, fewer custom details."

Jonathan nodded beside him, flipping through the proposal. "We’re talking about maximizing profit here."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on her pen. "This isn’t just another high-rise. Pineview Villa is a legacy project. Edward Martin entrusted it to me because of its artistic integrity."

Sebastian smirked. "And yet, Nathaniel’s the one signing the checks now, isn’t he?"

The words stung.

Before she could retort, her phone buzzed again—Isabella’s name flashing on the screen.

"We need to talk. It’s about Nathaniel."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted.

By the time she reached the café, Isabella was already seated, her designer sunglasses perched atop her head. She looked every bit the Hollywood star—poised, polished, and utterly unreadable.

"You’re late," Isabella remarked, stirring her iced tea.

Evelyn slid into the opposite chair. "What’s this about?"

Isabella leaned in, lowering her voice. "Nathaniel’s hiding something. Something big."

A chill ran down Evelyn’s spine. "What do you mean?"

Isabella’s lips curved into a knowing smile. "Let’s just say… the Martins have more skeletons than their mansion has rooms."

Evelyn’s phone buzzed—again. Nathaniel.

"Change of plans. Meet me at the estate. Now."

Isabella’s eyes gleamed. "Looks like you’re about to find out."

The Martin estate loomed ahead, its iron gates swinging open as Evelyn’s car approached. Alfred stood at the entrance, his expression grim.

"Mr. Martin is waiting in the study," he murmured.

Evelyn’s heels clicked against the marble floors as she made her way through the opulent halls. The air was thick with tension.

Nathaniel stood by the fireplace, his back to her. When he turned, his face was unreadable.

"We have a problem," he said quietly.

Evelyn’s breath caught. "What kind of problem?"

Nathaniel hesitated—just for a second—before answering.

"The kind that could destroy everything."

Evelyn didn’t give Nathaniel the satisfaction of a direct response. Instead, she kept her tone cool and detached. "Mr. Yates, I’d appreciate it if you stopped referring to me as Mrs. Martin. The divorce papers are signed. Ms. Mitchell will do just fine."

Her words were answer enough.

Samuel nodded, clutching the documents before exiting her office without another word.

Desperate to distract herself, Evelyn snatched up a sketchpad and pressed her pencil to the paper. Drawing had always been her refuge, her way of silencing the chaos in her mind.

But not today.

Today, the lines blurred, the strokes uneven. Her thoughts refused to be tamed.

She bit down on her lower lip, frustration simmering beneath her skin.

Yet, Nathaniel wasn’t about to let her wallow in peace.

Less than thirty minutes after the ink dried on their divorce agreement, a bombshell detonated across the local business forums. An anonymous insider leaked that Martin Enterprises had abruptly severed all ties with Mitchell Holdings—even halting projects on the brink of completion.

The message was clear: Nathaniel was cutting Evelyn out of his life, professionally and personally.

Rumors about their crumbling marriage had circulated before, but neither had ever confirmed them. Now, with business alliances dissolving, speculation exploded. Had they already divorced? Was this the final nail in the coffin?

The media swarmed like vultures, and Isabella became their prime target. Reporters ambushed her outside her studio, microphones thrust in her face.

"Ms. Davis, is it true Nathaniel ended his marriage for you?"

"Are you the reason behind their sudden split?"

"Care to comment on your role in all this?"

Isabella kept her lips sealed, though inside, triumph surged. She’d waited years for this moment—for Evelyn to be erased from Nathaniel’s life. And now, it was finally happening.

Meanwhile, the Martin family erupted in chaos. Edward, Nathaniel’s grandfather, collapsed from the stress, his blood pressure skyrocketing. He was rushed to the hospital before Evelyn even heard the news.

Not that she had time to process it. The Mitchells descended on her next, demanding she grovel for Nathaniel’s forgiveness, hurling accusations until she had no choice but to shut off her phone.

Evelyn never imagined Nathaniel would go this far. Their business dealings had existed long before their marriage—their personal lives shouldn’t have dictated corporate decisions. But he’d drawn a line in the sand, and now, he was burning every bridge between them.

The injustice of it all coiled tight in her chest, a storm she couldn’t suppress. Finally, she dialed Nathaniel’s number, only to be met with the robotic voice of his voicemail.

"The number you have dialed is currently unavailable."

Her grip on the phone tightened.

Swallowing her pride, she called Samuel instead. "Mr. Yates, what the hell is Nathaniel playing at? Terminating contracts over a divorce? Is he trying to ruin me?"

"Ms. Mitchell," Samuel replied carefully, "Mr. Martin’s orders were explicit. As for his whereabouts, he may be in transit. I should also inform you—Sir Edward has been hospitalized."

Guilt twisted Evelyn’s stomach. She’d been so consumed by her own turmoil, she hadn’t even known.

When she arrived at the hospital, Edward had already been settled into a private room. Victoria, Nathaniel’s mother, met her with weary eyes but no blame.

"Evelyn," she said softly, taking her hand. "Don’t blame yourself. It was the shock, that’s all. His vitals are stable now."

But Evelyn knew better.

Nathaniel hadn’t just ended their marriage.

He’d declared war.