Chapter 229

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She traced the curve of his jaw with her fingertips, a small smile playing on her lips.

Last night had been… unexpected.

She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb him. The events of the previous evening replayed in her mind—Isabella’s sudden reappearance, the tension in Nathaniel’s posture, the way his grip on her hand had tightened when Isabella approached them at the gala.

Evelyn exhaled sharply as she stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the lingering unease. She had known about Isabella, of course. Nathaniel had been honest about his past. But seeing her in person, flawless and poised, had stirred something unsettling in Evelyn’s chest.

By the time she dressed and made her way downstairs, Alfred had already set breakfast on the table.

"Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he greeted with a slight bow.

"Morning, Alfred," she murmured, picking at the fruit on her plate.

Nathaniel appeared moments later, freshly showered and dressed in a tailored suit. His gaze found hers immediately, and the intensity in his eyes made her pulse quicken.

"You left without waking me," he said, his voice low.

Evelyn shrugged. "You looked like you needed the rest."

He took the seat beside her, his fingers brushing against hers. "We should talk about last night."

She stiffened. "There’s nothing to talk about."

"Isabella showing up like that—"

"—was just a coincidence," Evelyn finished for him, forcing a smile. "It’s fine, Nathaniel. Really."

His jaw tightened. "It’s not fine if it bothers you."

Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening.

"I have to take this," he muttered, standing.

Evelyn watched him stride out of the room, her stomach twisting. She knew that look—something was wrong.

And she had a feeling Isabella was at the center of it.

Nathaniel’s voice was sharp as he answered the call. "What is it, Samuel?"

"Sir, there’s been an issue with the Montclair project. The investors are pulling out."

Nathaniel cursed under his breath. "Why?"

Samuel hesitated. "Rumors are circulating. About you and… Isabella Davis."

Nathaniel’s grip on the phone tightened. "What kind of rumors?"

"That you’re reigniting your past relationship. That Evelyn is just a cover."

A cold fury settled in Nathaniel’s chest. "Find out who started this. Now."

He ended the call, his mind racing. Someone was targeting him—and by extension, Evelyn.

And he had a very good idea who.

Evelyn’s phone buzzed with a message from Gregory.

"Emergency meeting at the office. We have a problem."

She frowned. Gregory wasn’t one to exaggerate.

As she grabbed her bag, Nathaniel reappeared, his expression unreadable.

"I have to go," she said.

He caught her wrist gently. "Evelyn."

She met his gaze. "What?"

"Whatever happens today, remember one thing." His voice was firm. "You’re the only one I want."

Her breath hitched. Before she could reply, he kissed her—hard, possessive, leaving no room for doubt.

When he pulled away, his eyes burned with determination.

"Trust me."

Evelyn nodded, though unease coiled in her stomach.

Something was coming.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

The moment Evelyn saw Nathaniel's name flash on her phone screen, her stomach twisted with unease.

She answered the call, and Samuel's voice, low and urgent, came through. "Mrs. Martin, Mr. Martin requests your presence at The Scarlet immediately."

Evelyn froze at the mention of The Scarlet.

That morning, Nathaniel had instructed her to have Samuel reserve a private room there for a business lunch.

So why does he want me there now—while he's dining with another woman?

"Is something wrong?" she asked, keeping her tone steady.

"Mr. Martin has some questions about the design schematics. He'd like you to clarify a few details."

"I can come to the office. It's lunchtime, and I—"

"Mrs. Martin," Samuel interrupted, his voice strained, "please come now. Mr. Martin has a packed schedule this afternoon. He won’t have time later."

Evelyn fell silent. On the other end, Samuel wiped his brow, stealing a glance at Nathaniel, who sat motionless, his expression unreadable.

Finally, Evelyn relented. "Fine."

Samuel exhaled in relief. "She’s on her way, sir."

Nathaniel said nothing.

When Evelyn arrived, Nathaniel was already seated in the private dining room.

Across from him sat Cassandra Reed—this year’s modeling competition winner. Evelyn recognized her instantly.

Pausing at the doorway, Evelyn watched as Cassandra leaned closer to Nathaniel, her lips curving into a coy smile.

"Mr. Martin," she purred, "I thought this was supposed to be a private lunch. Are we expecting company?"

Nathaniel barely glanced at Evelyn. "She’s here for work." His tone was dismissive, edged with irritation.

Evelyn arched a brow, matching his indifference. "Nathaniel, if you’d rather eat first, we can discuss the project later."

"Do I look like I have time to waste?"

His cold retort hung in the air.

Evelyn clenched her jaw but stepped inside, taking the seat directly across from him. She pulled out a duplicate set of blueprints—she’d anticipated he wouldn’t have the originals on him.

Sliding the designs toward him, she said, "Have you reviewed them? Point out what needs adjusting."

Just then, Cassandra lifted a spoonful of soup, her eyes bright with invitation. "Mr. Martin, you have to try this. It’s The Scarlet’s specialty!"

Nathaniel’s gaze flicked to Evelyn before he accepted the bowl. He took a slow sip. "Delicious."

Cassandra beamed. "And this fish—here, let me." She speared a piece with her fork, lifting it toward his mouth.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her pen. Nathaniel had a notorious aversion to sharing utensils—even Thomas had joked about it. Yet now, he allowed Cassandra to feed him without protest.

A bitter knot twisted in Evelyn’s chest.

Before she could dwell on it, Nathaniel’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"What was your question again?"