Chapter 23

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She traced the strong line of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at how peaceful he looked.

A vibration from her phone interrupted the quiet moment. It was Gregory. "Emergency meeting at the office. Need you here ASAP."

Evelyn sighed. She had hoped for a lazy Sunday with Nathaniel, but duty called. Slipping out of bed, she dressed quickly in a tailored blazer and slacks, her mind already racing through potential crises at the firm.

Downstairs, Alfred had prepared her usual espresso. "You're leaving early, Miss Evelyn," he observed.

"Work never sleeps, Alfred," she replied, taking the cup gratefully.

The drive to the office was tense. The city streets were unusually empty for a weekend morning, amplifying her unease. When she arrived, Gregory was pacing in the conference room, his expression grim.

"We lost the Summit Realty project," he announced without preamble.

Evelyn froze. "What? How?"

"Sebastian Wilson pulled the plug. Claims our designs didn’t meet their ‘vision.’" Gregory scoffed. "Bullshit. Someone got to him."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. That project was their biggest yet—a chance to prove her firm could compete with the industry giants. Losing it now would be catastrophic.

Just then, her phone buzzed again. An unknown number.

"Meet me at The Velvet Lounge. Noon. Alone. -VD"

Vanessa Davis. Isabella’s agent.

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. What could she possibly want?

Gregory noticed her distraction. "Everything okay?"

She forced a smile. "Fine. Just need to handle something personal."

As she left the office, Evelyn’s mind raced. Was this about Nathaniel? About her?

The Velvet Lounge was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of bourbon and expensive perfume. Vanessa sat in a corner booth, her crimson nails tapping impatiently against her glass.

"You’re late," she remarked as Evelyn approached.

"Traffic," Evelyn lied, sliding into the seat opposite her.

Vanessa smirked. "Cut the crap. I know you’re wondering why I called." She leaned forward. "Isabella’s back in town. And she’s not here to play nice."

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her clutch. "What does that have to do with me?"

Vanessa’s smile turned predatory. "Everything, sweetheart. Because she’s coming for your husband."

The words hit like a physical blow. Evelyn’s breath caught, but she refused to show weakness. "Nathaniel and I are solid."

"Are you?" Vanessa chuckled. "Then why did he visit her hotel last night?"

The room spun. Evelyn’s carefully constructed composure cracked.

Vanessa slid a photo across the table—Nathaniel, standing outside a luxury hotel, his expression unreadable.

Evelyn’s heart shattered.

But before she could respond, her phone rang. Nathaniel’s name flashed on the screen.

Vanessa’s grin widened. "Speak of the devil."

Evelyn hesitated. Then, with trembling fingers, she answered.

"Evelyn," Nathaniel’s voice was urgent. "We need to talk. Now."

"What exactly should I understand?" Nathaniel asked, his brows knitting together in confusion.

Evelyn pressed her lips into a thin line before speaking bluntly, "Where were you tonight? You promised you'd come home early. We were supposed to visit Grandfather together."

"Something urgent came up. I already informed Mother."

"Did you inform me?"

His frown deepened. Something was off about Evelyn tonight—her tone was sharper, more accusatory. This wasn’t the composed woman he knew. The change unsettled him.

"If you’re upset because I didn’t tell you, then I apologize. It won’t happen again. Is that what you want to hear?"

Silence stretched between them.

Nathaniel exhaled, his voice low and measured. "If there’s something else bothering you, say it now."

"It’s not about being bothered. It’s about how long you plan to keep lying to me."

"Lying?" His jaw tightened. "What are you talking about?"

Evelyn felt a surge of frustration. Why wouldn’t he just admit it?

"Nathaniel, there’s no point hiding things now. We’re getting divorced anyway. Just be honest with me. If you were out picking a wedding dress with Isabella to prepare for your new life together, you could’ve told me. At least then I wouldn’t have felt like an idiot calling and interrupting your little date."

They were married, yet they didn’t even have a single photo together.

Apart from a legal document and the nights they’d shared, there was no proof they had ever been a couple.

The realization twisted like a knife in her chest.

She didn’t regret loving him, but loving him had become her greatest punishment.

Evelyn quickly lowered her gaze, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of witnessing her weakness.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened with disbelief. "Wedding dress? Evelyn, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Just admit it."

"Why would I admit to something I didn’t do? This isn’t like you. Where is this paranoia coming from?"

He tugged at his tie, frustration evident in the sharp lines of his face. His entire demeanor radiated icy detachment.

Nathaniel studied her, his voice dangerously controlled. "Are you fabricating this just to force the divorce?"

Evelyn lifted her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes. "Isabella told me you were choosing a wedding dress, Nathaniel. If you’re worried I’ll expose you in front of your family, don’t be. I’m not that petty."

She had loved him with everything she had. Now, his insistence on ending their marriage only proved how little she meant to him.

She wouldn’t let him see her break. Not again.

Nathaniel’s expression hardened. "You misunderstood. I was helping her pick out clothes because she was being discharged today. And she borrowed my phone to call her former agent. That’s all."

"So now I’m accusing her for no reason? And lying about you two?"

"I didn’t say that."

"But that’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? I don’t understand why your phone is always with Isabella whenever I call. If you don’t want to answer, fine. I won’t call anymore."

Her voice wavered, barely holding back the tremor of emotion. Her fingers clenched into fists beneath the sheets, nails digging into her palms to keep herself from shattering.

Nathaniel’s gaze turned piercing, his tone cutting. "Evelyn, are you deliberately picking a fight?"