Chapter 268

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden streaks across her blueprints. She tapped her pen absently against the desk, her mind wandering to Nathaniel's unexpected call last night. His voice had been strained, almost hesitant—uncharacteristic for the usually confident heir of Martin Group.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Gabrielle, her assistant, poked her head in. "Mr. Wilson is here to see you."

Evelyn straightened. "Send him in."

Gregory strode in, his usual composed demeanor replaced by visible tension. "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The permits for the waterfront project have been delayed again."

She frowned. "How? We submitted everything weeks ago."

"City Hall claims there are zoning issues." He dropped a file onto her desk. "But I think someone’s pulling strings behind the scenes."

Evelyn flipped through the documents, her stomach tightening. If this project stalled, their firm’s reputation would take a hit—and worse, Nathaniel’s grandfather, Edward Martin, would see it as proof she wasn’t fit to stand beside his grandson.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Nathaniel:

We need to talk. Tonight. Alone.

Her fingers hovered over the screen. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Across town, Nathaniel stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, staring at the city skyline. His jaw clenched as he replayed the conversation with his father earlier.

"You’re making a mistake, Nathaniel. That girl doesn’t belong in this family."

His phone rang—Isabella. Again. He ignored it, just like the last three calls. She’d been relentless since returning to town, stirring up old rumors, whispering in the right ears.

A soft chime announced Samuel’s arrival. "Sir, the board meeting starts in twenty minutes."

Nathaniel exhaled sharply. "Cancel it."

Samuel blinked. "But—"

"Reschedule everything. I have somewhere to be."

Because if there was one thing he knew, it was this: Evelyn was his future. And he’d burn the city down before letting anyone take her from him.

That evening, Evelyn arrived at their usual spot—a secluded garden terrace overlooking the bay. Nathaniel was already there, his back to her, shoulders rigid.

She approached slowly. "You’re scaring me."

He turned, and the raw intensity in his eyes stole her breath. "They’re coming for you, Evelyn."

Her pulse spiked. "Who?"

"Everyone." His voice was low, dangerous. "My family. Isabella. Even your so-called partners." He stepped closer, cupping her face. "But I won’t let them win."

The vow hung between them, heavy as the gathering storm clouds overhead.

Because this wasn’t just a fight for their love.

Evelyn opened her mouth to explain, but at the last second, she changed her mind.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's not that I mean anything by it. It's just... your sudden shift in behavior unsettles me. We don’t have to lose ourselves just because of the baby."

Nathaniel’s tenderness could easily be mistaken for something deeper—something Evelyn knew better than to hope for. And that realization stung more than she cared to admit.

Their eyes locked, an unspoken tension thickening the air between them. Neither spoke.

Back at the penthouse, Evelyn showered, then deliberately let her damp hair fall over her face before slipping into Beatrice’s room.

Beatrice barely glanced up from her book, irritation flashing in her sharp gaze. "Must you barge in here every time? Can’t an old woman have a moment’s peace?"

Evelyn blinked, taken aback. "Grandma, since when do you need peace from me? You used to say I was your whole world. What changed?"

"People change."

"But this?" Evelyn gestured between them. "This is cruel."

"Enough." Beatrice snapped her book shut. "I’m reading. Either sit quietly or leave."

Evelyn sighed but didn’t argue. Beatrice was teasing her—she had to be. Still, after lingering a few minutes, she retreated.

The caregiver—a warm-faced woman from Dattlech whom Evelyn had personally hired—watched her go before turning to Beatrice. "You don’t miss her at all?"

"What good would missing her do?" Beatrice set the book aside, her expression weary. "I won’t be here forever. She needs to find someone who will."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the pills.

"You’ve increased the dosage?" the caregiver frowned. "It was three before."

"I need to recover faster. The baby’s coming soon, and Evelyn will need help." Beatrice’s voice brooked no argument. "If she asks, tell her everything’s normal. Understood?"

The next morning, Nathaniel drove Evelyn to work.

Just before they reached the office, he surprised her. "Lunch. Today."

"With who?"

"Me."

"That’s it?"

His lips quirked. "Unless you’d like to count the baby as a third guest."

Evelyn exhaled. "Fine."

He promised to pick her up at noon, warning her not to wander off. She nodded, stepping out of the car without another word.

Inside, she met Gregory in his office to review project updates. His phone buzzed incessantly, but he kept dismissing the calls.

Evelyn arched a brow. "Not answering? Should I go?"

"It’s Danielle."

"Then answer. It might be important."

With a grimace, Gregory finally picked up. Danielle’s shrill voice carried through the speaker, sharp enough for Evelyn to hear. "Gregory! Why do you keep ignoring me? Are you with her again? She’s married, for God’s sake! Why can’t she leave you alone?"

Gregory’s jaw tightened. He shot Evelyn an apologetic glance before hissing into the phone, "Danielle, stop. I’m working. We’ve talked about this. Pull yourself together."

A sob crackled through the line. Danielle was spiraling again.