Chapter 264

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden streaks across her blueprints. She tapped her pen against the desk, lost in thought. The Martin Group project was nearing completion, but something felt off.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel.

"Dinner tonight? I have something to tell you."

Evelyn frowned. His tone was unreadable, even through text. She typed back a quick "Sure" before setting her phone aside.

Across the city, Nathaniel stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, staring at the skyline. His grip tightened around his phone. He hadn’t slept well—not since Edward Martin had dropped the bombshell about the company’s financial discrepancies.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. Samuel Yates stepped in, holding a file.

"Sir, the audit reports are in."

Nathaniel took the folder, flipping through the pages. His jaw clenched. The numbers didn’t add up. Someone had been siphoning funds—and the trail led uncomfortably close to home.

Meanwhile, Isabella Davis lounged on her balcony, scrolling through social media. A smirk played on her lips as she lingered on a tagged photo of Evelyn and Nathaniel at a recent charity gala.

"Still playing the perfect couple, huh?" she muttered.

Her phone rang. Vanessa’s name flashed on the screen.

"Did you see the news?" Vanessa’s voice was sharp.

"What news?"

"Martin Group’s stocks just took a hit. Rumors are swirling about internal fraud."

Isabella’s smirk widened. "Interesting."

Back at the office, Evelyn’s assistant, Gabrielle, rushed in. "Evelyn, you need to see this." She handed over a tablet.

The headline blared: "Martin Group Under Investigation: Financial Irregularities Exposed."

Evelyn’s stomach dropped. She reached for her phone, dialing Nathaniel’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

Her office door swung open. Gregory Wilson strode in, his expression grim. "We have a problem."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Tell me something I don’t know."

Gregory dropped a folder on her desk. "The Martin Group’s issues might affect our joint project. Investors are getting cold feet."

Evelyn’s mind raced. If the project collapsed, her firm’s reputation would be ruined.

And Nathaniel—where was he?

As if on cue, her phone buzzed again. A message from Caroline Sullivan:

"Call me. Now."

Evelyn’s fingers trembled as she dialed.

Caroline answered immediately. "Evelyn, listen carefully. I just got a tip. Someone’s framing Nathaniel."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. "Who?"

"I don’t know yet. But it’s someone close."

The line went dead.

Evelyn stared at her phone, dread pooling in her chest.

Someone was pulling strings in the shadows.

And Nathaniel was walking right into their trap.

Sebastian Wilson was brutally beaten by Nathaniel, completely defenseless, while his two henchmen were swiftly subdued by Samuel Yates.

Sebastian attempted to plead for mercy, but Nathaniel showed no interest in his excuses. The beating continued until Sebastian collapsed onto the marble floor, motionless as a corpse.

Nathaniel strode out of the villa with Evelyn cradled protectively in his arms. His voice was icy as he commanded, "I want Summit Realty erased from Mayby by dawn. As for him," he glanced back at the unconscious figure, "ensure he never resurfaces. Make it convincing."

Samuel gave a curt nod. "Consider it done."

By morning, the city would understand why.

Nathaniel rushed Evelyn straight to the hospital.

When she stirred awake, the sterile white walls greeted her once again. This marked her second hospitalization in just weeks.

Some luck I've been having lately, she thought wryly.

Turning her head, she found Nathaniel seated beside her bed. Before she could speak, his fingers brushed her cheek. "You're awake. Any pain?"

She shook her head weakly. "The baby?"

"Perfectly fine. No need to worry."

His reassurance loosened the knot in her chest.

Evelyn swallowed. "Can we go home? I don’t want to stay here."

Nathaniel studied her for a long moment before relenting. "Alright."

Since the doctors confirmed her stability, home was better.

Knowing she hadn’t eaten, he brought her warm broth. "Beatrice doesn’t know. I told her you had a late work dinner."

"Thank you," she murmured.

His jaw tightened at her formality, but he said nothing.

That night, while some slept soundly, others tossed restlessly in the dark.

In a dimly lit penthouse, Isabella paced like a caged panther. "How did this happen? The plan was flawless! Since when does Nathaniel track her movements?"

Donovan Sinclair swirled his whiskey, unfazed. "Overreacting will only draw his attention. Compose yourself, Isabella."

Her manicured nails dug into her palms. Despite the late hour, sleep was impossible.

Donovan rose and pulled her into an embrace. "I’ll handle it. Sebastian won’t talk. But," his grip tightened, "Nathaniel’s rage wasn’t just about Evelyn."

Isabella jerked back. "What else?"

His gaze turned scrutinizing. "Did you know Evelyn’s pregnant?"

Her breath hitched. "Pregnant?" The word slithered out like venom.

Impossible. Nathaniel had never mentioned it.

Yet suddenly, he refused the divorce.

The realization struck like lightning.

Isabella recoiled, putting distance between them. Her voice trembled with barely contained fury. "Is this a joke? Who told you this?"