Chapter 288

The evening air was thick with tension as Evelyn stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Nathaniel’s penthouse, her fingers tracing the condensation on the glass. The city lights flickered below, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her.

Nathaniel’s voice cut through the silence, low and measured. “We need to talk about what happened.”

She turned to face him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “There’s nothing to talk about. Isabella made her intentions clear.”

His jaw clenched. “She doesn’t matter. What matters is us.”

Evelyn scoffed, her grip tightening on her elbows. “Does she really not matter? Because from where I’m standing, she’s been a constant shadow in our marriage.”

Nathaniel stepped closer, his dark eyes searching hers. “I chose you, Evelyn. Every single day, I choose you.”

Her breath hitched, but she refused to back down. “Then why does it feel like I’m still competing with a ghost?”

Before he could respond, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening. “It’s Samuel. There’s an emergency at the office.”

Evelyn exhaled sharply, turning back to the window. “Go. Duty calls.”

Nathaniel hesitated, his hand hovering near her shoulder before dropping it. “This isn’t over.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Evelyn alone with her thoughts. The reflection in the glass showed a woman teetering on the edge—of what, she wasn’t sure.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Gregory: We need you at the site. There’s a problem with the foundation.

She closed her eyes briefly, gathering her resolve. If there was one thing Evelyn Mitchell knew how to do, it was rebuild.

But first, she had to decide if her marriage was worth salvaging—or if it was time to walk away for good.

The Martin Group’s headquarters was in chaos when Nathaniel arrived. Samuel met him at the elevator, his usually composed demeanor frayed.

“The investors are pulling out,” Samuel said in a hushed tone. “They heard rumors about the divorce.”

Nathaniel’s expression hardened. “Who started them?”

Samuel hesitated. “Isabella’s agent, Vanessa. She’s been feeding the press.”

A cold fury settled in Nathaniel’s chest. He had tolerated Isabella’s games for too long.

“Call a press conference,” he ordered. “Tonight.”

Samuel blinked. “Sir?”

Nathaniel’s voice was steel. “I’m ending this.”

Evelyn stood at the construction site, the wind tugging at her coat as she surveyed the damage. The foundation had cracked—sabotage, according to the engineers.

Gregory handed her a coffee, his expression grim. “This wasn’t an accident.”

She took a sip, the bitterness matching her mood. “I know.”

Her phone buzzed again—a news alert. Breaking: Nathaniel Martin to Address Rumors in Live Press Conference.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the cup.

Whatever he was about to say would change everything.

And this time, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it.

Evelyn had dinner with Beatrice and lingered for a while before retiring for the night. After a warm shower, she slipped beneath the covers, exhaustion weighing heavily on her eyelids.

Nathaniel hadn't called—likely preoccupied with work. She didn’t reach out either, curling around her phone as sleep claimed her.

At first, her rest was peaceful. But then—

A nightmare tore through her slumber, jolting her awake with a gasp.

Her heart hammered violently, sweat dampening her skin. She clutched the blankets, pulling them over her head as if they could shield her from the lingering dread. Sleep refused to return, leaving her drained and hollow by morning. She skipped the office entirely.

Fear kept her from sleeping alone. After breakfast, she retreated to Beatrice’s home, collapsing onto the sofa in hopes of stealing a few hours of rest.

But peace was fleeting.

Beatrice shook her awake, concern etched into her features. Evelyn’s breath came in short, panicked bursts. The nightmare clung to her—visions of blood, a terrifying fall from a cliff, and the faint, haunting cry of a baby—

She shuddered, cutting off the memory before it could fully resurface.

"Evelyn, was it another nightmare?" Beatrice asked softly, brushing damp strands of hair from her granddaughter’s forehead.

Evelyn forced a weak smile. "Probably just too many thrillers before bed."

"Are you not sleeping well with Nathaniel away?"

"I’m fine. Just restless."

"You need proper rest, dear. For the baby."

Evelyn nodded, though the thought of returning to her empty bed made her stomach twist. Still, she didn’t want Beatrice worrying. With a quiet goodbye, she left.

Back home, she played soft lullabies, hoping the gentle melodies would lull her into a dreamless sleep.

Just as her eyelids grew heavy—

Her phone rang.

She jolted upright, fumbling for the device. Nathaniel’s name flashed on the screen. Relief washed over her as she answered.

"Hello?"

"Your voice sounds off," Nathaniel observed immediately.

"Just tired. I was about to nap."

"Because I’m not there?"

Evelyn scoffed. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"Don’t you miss me?" he countered.

She hesitated. "Do you miss me?"

His low chuckle sent warmth curling through her. "I do. So answer the question."

Her breath caught. Since when did Nathaniel speak so openly?

She pressed her lips together. "I don’t see the point."

"No?"

"Even if I said yes, you’re still in Teninus. Words won’t change that."

"Stubborn," he murmured, though amusement colored his tone.

She never answered.

Their call ended shortly after—Nathaniel had meetings, after all.

Alone again, Evelyn curled onto her side, phone clutched to her chest. Sleep still eluded her.

By afternoon, exhaustion finally dragged her under.

But the nightmares returned.

This time, she dreamed of falling—plummeting from her balcony, her body broken on the pavement below. Blood pooled around her. A baby’s cries echoed endlessly. And in the darkness, two hollow, bloodied eyes stared back—

She woke with a scream trapped in her throat.