Chapter 281

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her drafting table. Her fingers flew over the blueprints as she adjusted the final details of the coastal resort project. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of her jasmine perfume.

"Miss Mitchell?" Gabrielle's voice came through the intercom. "Mr. Wilson is here to see you."

Evelyn smoothed her pencil skirt before responding. "Send him in, Gabrielle."

Gregory entered with his usual confident stride, though his usually impeccable tie was slightly askew today. "We've got a situation," he said without preamble, dropping a folder on her desk. "The zoning board is demanding additional environmental impact studies before approving the waterfront development."

Evelyn's brow furrowed as she flipped through the documents. "But we already submitted three separate reports last month." Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the mahogany surface. "This smells like Edward Martin's doing."

Gregory nodded grimly. "Exactly what I thought. His people have been whispering in the commissioners' ears since last week's hearing."

The intercom buzzed again. "Miss Mitchell, Mr. Martin is on line one."

Evelyn and Gregory exchanged glances. Speak of the devil, she thought bitterly. She pressed the speakerphone button. "Nathaniel. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

His deep voice filled the room, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine despite her irritation. "Evelyn, we need to talk. Face to face. The usual place in thirty minutes?"

She hesitated only a second. "Fine. But this better be good."

As the line went dead, Gregory raised an eyebrow. "You're still meeting him at that café? After everything?"

Evelyn grabbed her leather portfolio, her movements sharp with contained frustration. "It's neutral territory. And right now, I need answers more than I need to nurse old wounds."

The autumn air was crisp as Evelyn stepped out of the office building. Leaves swirled around her ankles as she walked the familiar path to the little French café where she and Nathaniel had shared countless meetings - both professional and personal. The scent of freshly baked croissants greeted her as she pushed open the door.

He was already there, seated at their usual corner table. The sunlight caught the silver streaks in his dark hair as he stood to greet her. Even after all this time, the sight of him still made her breath catch.

"You're looking well," Nathaniel said, his gaze sweeping over her in that way that always made her feel both exposed and cherished.

Evelyn slid into the chair opposite him without returning the compliment. "Cut to the chase, Nathaniel. Why is your grandfather blocking my project?"

His expression darkened. "It's more complicated than that." He reached into his briefcase and slid a photograph across the table. "Do you recognize this man?"

Evelyn studied the image of a middle-aged man with sharp features and cold eyes. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar. "Should I?"

"Jonathan Blake. He's been making inquiries about you at several city departments." Nathaniel's fingers tightened around his coffee cup. "And he's been seen meeting with Isabella multiple times this past week."

The name hit Evelyn like a physical blow. Isabella Davis - Nathaniel's ex-fiancée, the woman who had nearly destroyed their marriage two years ago. "What could she possibly want now?"

Nathaniel's jaw clenched. "That's what I intend to find out. But until we do, you need to be careful. These zoning delays might just be the beginning."

As Evelyn absorbed this information, her phone buzzed with a text from Charlotte: "Emergency girls' night. My place. 8pm. Wine and gossip mandatory."

She sighed, already knowing she wouldn't be able to refuse. Some battles, at least, were predictable.

Nathaniel reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. "Whatever happens, Evelyn, I won't let anyone hurt you again. Not Isabella, not my grandfather, not anyone."

The warmth of his touch sent conflicting emotions warring within her. She wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him. But the scars of the past ran deep.

As she looked into his determined eyes, Evelyn realized with sudden clarity that this wasn't just about business rivalries or bureaucratic red tape. Something far more dangerous was unfolding around them.

And somehow, she and Nathaniel were right in the center of it.

Nathaniel's voice was calm but firm. "If you speak to me about it, I'll agree. You're carrying my child now. Of course I'll say yes."

Evelyn shook her head, her fingers tightening around her teacup. "I won't use our child as leverage. The Martin Group's decision to terminate the contract with Mitchell Corporation is a business matter. You shouldn’t have come to me—you should be addressing the issues within your own company."

She had already asked Nathaniel, and she knew his decision wasn’t influenced by their divorce. If it had been about her, she would have broached the subject of reinstating the partnership herself.

But since it wasn’t personal, she refused to bring it up—let alone manipulate him with the pregnancy.

Her unwavering stance infuriated both William and Margaret.

What followed was a tense argument, though it was mostly William and Margaret hurling accusations at Evelyn.

Eventually, Beatrice emerged from her room, her sharp gaze sweeping over them. "Is this how you raise your voices in my house?"

The reprimand silenced them. Without another word, William and Margaret stormed out, not even sparing Beatrice a glance.

Evelyn’s chest tightened with frustration and disappointment.

She helped Beatrice sit down, forcing a smile. "Don’t let them upset you, Grandmother. They’re just—"

"Worried I’ll be heartbroken?" Beatrice cut in with a scoff. "At my age, I’ve seen worse. The only thing that matters to me is your well-being. The rest? I couldn’t care less."

Evelyn’s throat burned. "I know you love me the most."

Beatrice rolled her eyes and gave Evelyn’s forehead a light shove. "Enough sentimentality. I’m going to rest."

The abrupt dismissal stung, but Evelyn didn’t let it show.

Once Beatrice was gone, her expression darkened. William and Margaret’s behavior was beyond disappointing.

I should have known better.

Exactly what I feared has happened.

What’s left to hold onto now?

Unsurprisingly, William didn’t give up. When persuasion failed, he marched straight to Martin Group headquarters to confront Nathaniel.

That evening, Nathaniel mentioned the encounter. Evelyn met his gaze squarely. "Would continuing the partnership with Mitchell Corporation benefit Martin Group?"

"No."

Nathaniel studied her, understanding the unspoken question, but he answered honestly.

"Then proceed as you see fit," she said evenly. "I don’t want you making concessions because of the baby. Even if you did, I wouldn’t thank you for it."

His lips twitched. "Concessions? That’s a harsh way to put it."

"Is it?"

She didn’t think so. This wasn’t some trivial favor—it was a multimillion-dollar corporate decision. More importantly, she refused to exploit their unborn child for gain.

So what if I’m blunt?

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you not want me working with Mitchell Corporation for the child’s sake, or because you don’t want to feel indebted to me?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course. The first is about your principles. The second is about your pride."

"But the outcome is the same." Her voice was steady, her gaze unwavering. "Nathaniel, my opinion doesn’t change anything. You’ll make the decision based on Martin Group’s interests, not our relationship. So whether it’s principles or pride—it doesn’t matter."

Her cold rationality left him silent.

He couldn’t tell if she was being pragmatic to spare him trouble—or if there was something else beneath the surface.

The conversation died there. Pushing further would only lead to another argument.

But then Nathaniel frowned, studying her closely. "Are you upset with me? Is that why you’re being like this?"