Chapter 224

The moment Nathaniel stepped into the dimly lit study, the weight of his grandfather’s words settled heavily on his shoulders. Edward Martin sat behind the mahogany desk, his piercing gaze locked onto Nathaniel with an intensity that made the air feel thick.

"You’ve made your decision, then?" Edward’s voice was low, but the authority in it was unmistakable.

Nathaniel clenched his jaw. "Yes. I won’t let the past dictate my future."

A slow, knowing smile curled Edward’s lips. "Good. Because weakness has no place in this family."

Meanwhile, Evelyn paced the length of their penthouse, her fingers tapping restlessly against her phone. She had tried calling Nathaniel three times, but each attempt went straight to voicemail.

Where is he?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Gabrielle, her assistant, stood there with an urgent expression. "Evelyn, we have a problem. The client just pulled out of the Riverside project."

Evelyn’s stomach dropped. "What? Why?"

Gabrielle hesitated. "They said… they heard rumors about instability in your personal life."

Evelyn’s grip on her phone tightened. Isabella.

She had no proof, but the timing was too convenient. Just as Nathaniel was being pulled back into the Martin family’s web, her career was suddenly under attack.

Back at the Martin estate, Nathaniel’s phone buzzed in his pocket—another missed call from Evelyn. He ignored it, focusing instead on the documents his grandfather slid across the desk.

"Sign these," Edward commanded. "And we’ll handle the rest."

Nathaniel hesitated, his mind flashing to Evelyn’s face. But then he remembered the ultimatum. Protect her, or lose everything.

His pen hovered over the paper.

One signature could change everything.

And he wasn’t sure if it would be for the better.

Evelyn instantly grasped Nathaniel's implication.

A playful smile curved her lips. "Of course, will you get it for me?"

Nathaniel's lips quirked. "That depends on your performance."

Evelyn shot him a look before turning to loop her arm through Victoria's, feigning complaint. "Victoria, he won't even indulge me in such a small pleasure. You're his wife—you have to back me up."

The words "you're his wife" sent an unexpected warmth flooding Evelyn's cheeks.

Softly, she defended, "He didn't mean it. Nathaniel was only teasing."

"Was he really just teasing?"

"Yes."

"Then ask him if he'll buy me the bracelet. He'll listen to you. I can't manage him anymore—he's your husband now."

Like a mischievous child, Victoria nudged Evelyn forward until she stood directly before Nathaniel.

The unspoken intention was clear—Victoria wanted them to engage. Not wishing to disappoint her, Evelyn had no choice but to comply.

She lifted her gaze to meet Nathaniel's. "You'll get the bracelet for Victoria, won't you?"

His expression remained unreadable. "What do you think?"

"I think you should."

A noncommittal hum was his only response.

Is that a yes or a no?

Evelyn hesitated, but Victoria clapped her hands in delight. "See? I knew it. Evelyn still holds more sway. Nathaniel doesn't listen to me anymore. Once a son marries, his mother takes second place to his wife."

Heat prickled Evelyn's neck as she ducked her head.

Silence settled between them.

Victoria shot Nathaniel a pointed look, urging him to speak, but he remained unmoved.

Exasperated, Victoria pressed, "How did you two get here?"

"Separate cars."

"Give me your keys, Nathaniel. I'll take yours home—I can't drive your father's. Aren't you visiting Evelyn's grandmother? Share a car." She turned to Evelyn. "That work for you?"

"Alright."

Refusal wasn't an option.

Once Victoria drove off, they slid into Evelyn's car.

The confined space amplified Nathaniel's presence, making it impossible to ignore. Evelyn focused on the road, fingers tight around the wheel.

Not a word passed between them the entire ride.

Soon, the car rolled to a stop outside the apartment complex. They took the elevator up, and Evelyn knocked on the door opposite hers.

Nathaniel had assumed she lived with Beatrice. Discovering she'd rented the adjacent unit gave him pause—though his composure never wavered.

The door swung open. Beatrice, despite her years, carried herself with grace. Her eyes lit with recognition. "Nathaniel?"

She'd memorized his face the moment she learned of Evelyn's marriage, pestering Charles for photos and details.

Nathaniel's smile was warm, his tone respectful. "Yes, it's me. I apologize for the delay in visiting, Grandma. You're not upset, are you?"

"Of course not. Come in." Beatrice beamed before instructing Evelyn, "Bring some water for Nathaniel."