Chapter 213

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, her heart pounded erratically. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her skin prickle with unease. She had expected a quiet evening with Nathaniel, but the sight before her shattered that illusion.

Isabella stood near the fireplace, her crimson dress clinging to her curves, a smirk playing on her lips. The way she leaned toward Nathaniel, whispering something in his ear, sent a sharp pang through Evelyn’s chest.

She shouldn’t be here.

Evelyn clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. She had fought too hard, sacrificed too much, to let Isabella waltz back into their lives like this.

Nathaniel turned, his dark eyes locking onto hers. There was something unreadable in his gaze—guilt? Regret? Or worse, indifference?

"Evelyn," he said, his voice steady but distant.

She forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "Nathaniel. I didn’t realize we were expecting company."

Isabella’s laughter tinkled like broken glass. "Oh, don’t mind me. I was just catching up with an old friend."

Friend. The word tasted bitter.

Evelyn’s phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Gregory: "We have a problem. The Summit Realty deal is falling apart. Call me ASAP."

Perfect. Just what she needed.

She excused herself, stepping into the hallway. The moment she was out of earshot, she dialed Gregory’s number.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Sebastian Wilson pulled out," Gregory said, frustration lacing his tone. "He claims our designs don’t meet his vision. But I think someone got to him."

Evelyn’s mind raced. "Isabella?"

"Wouldn’t put it past her."

She exhaled sharply. "I’ll handle it."

As she ended the call, a shadow fell over her. She turned to find Nathaniel standing there, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said.

Her stomach twisted. She knew that tone. It never meant anything good.

"About?"

"About us."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. She had dreaded this moment for weeks.

But before she could respond, Alfred, the butler, appeared. "Mr. Martin, your grandfather is asking for you. Urgently."

Nathaniel hesitated, then nodded. "Later," he murmured before striding away.

Evelyn was left standing there, her heart in pieces.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Isabella watching her, that same smug smile on her lips.

"Is Charlotte the woman who left you?" Nathaniel cut straight to the chase, his piercing gaze cold and unreadable.

Thomas hesitated for a split second. "You know about her?"

"Where is she now? With you?"

"Yes."

Nathaniel's voice was icy. "You'd better not mistreat her."

"Did Evelyn tell you?"

"This has nothing to do with Evelyn," Nathaniel countered, his dark eyes locked onto Thomas. A thought flickered through his mind—If I had known about Charlotte and Thomas sooner, would I have warned him earlier?

Downstairs, Evelyn had prepared an elaborate lunch, the aroma filling the air, making one's stomach growl in anticipation. She untied her apron and was about to head upstairs to call Nathaniel when the doorbell chimed.

The butler opened the door, revealing Isabella in a soft mint-green dress.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Evelyn. After a quick glance around to confirm Nathaniel wasn’t present, she asked coolly, "What are you doing here?"

"That’s my line," Evelyn shot back, her tone frosty.

Isabella smirked. "You’re getting divorced from Nathaniel. Do you honestly think you still belong here? Tell me, Evelyn—do you regret it?"

"What business is it of yours?" Evelyn arched a brow. "Are you that desperate for me to leave? What if I decide to stay just to spite you?"

"You—" Isabella’s lips thinned in irritation, but she quickly masked it with a saccharine smile. "Do you really think Nathaniel would agree to that? Let’s see who ends up by his side in the end, shall we?"

Evelyn ignored her jab and turned toward the stairs—only to nearly collide with Nathaniel as he descended.

She met his gaze steadily. "Lunch is ready."

Before Nathaniel could respond, Isabella interjected, "Nathaniel, I need to speak with you. Alone."

His expression remained impassive. "About?"

"It’s private," Isabella insisted, casting a pointed look at Evelyn. "I doubt Evelyn would mind. After all, she knows what we mean to each other. If she had a problem with it, she would’ve stopped us by now."

The implication was clear—Evelyn was the unwanted third party.

Isabella turned to Evelyn with feigned innocence. "Don’t you agree?"

"Since when do you care about my opinion?" Evelyn replied flatly.

Isabella’s cheeks flushed. "Evelyn, I was just trying to be considerate. There’s no need to be so hostile!"

"Should I be sweet to you instead?" Evelyn’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Isabella faltered, then lowered her voice. "Are you still upset about what happened on Nathaniel’s birthday?"

Evelyn let out a dry laugh. "Isabella, you should consider acting. You’d be brilliant at it."

Without another glance at Isabella, she focused on Nathaniel. "So—are we eating now, or do you need to have your private conversation first?"