Chapter 232

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, illuminating the blueprints spread across her desk. Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the latest project—a luxury resort that could redefine Summit Realty's portfolio.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Evelyn, do you have a minute?" Gabrielle, her assistant, peeked in with a hesitant smile.

"Of course," Evelyn replied, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Gabrielle stepped inside, clutching a tablet. "Mr. Wilson just called. He wants to discuss the resort proposal before the board meeting tomorrow."

Evelyn's stomach tightened. Sebastian Wilson wasn't just her client—he was a man who thrived on power plays. "Did he say what he wanted to change?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "Only that it's urgent."

Sighing, Evelyn glanced at the clock. "Tell him I'll be there in an hour."

As Gabrielle left, Evelyn's phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel lit up the screen:

Dinner tonight? I have something to tell you.

Her pulse quickened. Nathaniel had been distant lately, buried in Martin Group affairs. A dinner invitation was unusual—and cryptic.

She typed a quick reply: Of course. Where?

His response came instantly: Pineview. 8 PM.

Pineview Villa—their private sanctuary. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it was important.

Evelyn turned back to her blueprints, but her mind wandered. Was it about Isabella? The woman had been lurking at the edges of their lives ever since Nathaniel's grandfather's will had been read. Or was it something else entirely?

A knock sounded again—this time sharper. Gregory Wilson, her business partner, leaned against the doorframe, his expression grim. "We have a problem."

Evelyn straightened. "What now?"

"Jonathan Blake just pulled Summit Realty's funding. The resort project is on hold."

Her breath hitched. "What? Why?"

Gregory's jaw tightened. "Because Sebastian Wilson wants you personally overseeing his new venture—exclusively."

Evelyn's fingers curled into fists. This wasn't business. This was a power move.

And Nathaniel's mysterious dinner suddenly felt like a storm on the horizon.

"You're Nathaniel's wife, yet you can't make a simple decision?" Sebastian sneered as he strode into her office, dropping onto the couch without invitation. His voice dripped with disdain. "Evelyn, did you just use us as a stepping stone? Now that you've found a better opportunity, you're tossing us aside, is that it?"

"Mr. Wilson, let me correct you." Evelyn met his glare evenly. "As you pointed out, I am Nathaniel's wife. Why would I need to use Summit Realty as a stepping stone? I married him long before I ever met you. So, where is this accusation coming from?"

Sebastian's relentless questioning grated on her nerves, but she refused to back down. If she stayed silent, he’d take it as an admission of guilt.

She crossed her arms. "I fought for you. But tell me—what exactly have you sacrificed for this project? The design? That was all me. The logistics? Handled entirely by Martin Group. And as far as I know, Summit Realty has received every cent of compensation owed. So tell me, what more do you want from me?"

Sebastian's eyes darkened. "So this is it? You're cutting ties?"

"I'm saying I don’t control this project. I hold no real power at Martin Group. Stop making me the villain here."

A cold smirk twisted his lips. "We'll see about that, Evelyn."

She said nothing as he stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass.

Frustration coiled in her chest, but what else could she do?

Sebastian left her office building and drove straight to The Velvet Lounge, an exclusive underground bar hidden beneath Mayby’s glittering skyline. The kind of place where the city’s elite whispered secrets over expensive whiskey.

He bypassed the main area and headed for the most secluded VIP room. Inside, a man lounged on the plush sofa, swirling a glass of amber liquor.

Sebastian smirked as he approached. "Donovan. I need a favor."

Donovan Sinclair arched a brow. "Let me guess—Martin Group screwed you over?"

"Evelyn did. With Nathaniel backing her, she shut us out. I can’t touch them directly."

Donovan chuckled, low and dangerous. "Fortunes change, Sebastian. Pick the right allies, and you’ll never lose."

The unspoken promise in his words eased the tension in Sebastian’s shoulders.

Excusing himself, Sebastian stepped out and dialed a number. A sly grin spread across his face as the line connected.

"Feel like teaching Evelyn a lesson?"

The voice on the other end responded, and Sebastian’s grin widened. "Perfect. I’ll come get you now."

Mayby’s weather was fickle this time of year—sunny one moment, storming the next.

At Pineview Villa, Evelyn stirred a pot of soup, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. Alfred had called earlier, summoning her here urgently.

Outside, rain lashed against the windows, relentless.

Then—footsteps.

Nathaniel descended the stairs, his expression grim.

"Evelyn," he said, voice tight. "Come with me."