Chapter 291

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her blueprints. She tapped her pen absently against the desk, her mind elsewhere. Nathaniel had been distant lately—ever since that charity gala where Isabella had made her grand reappearance.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Gregory.

"Meeting in 10. Summit Realty wants revisions on the waterfront project."

Evelyn sighed. Work never stopped, even when her personal life was unraveling. She grabbed her tablet and headed for the conference room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors.

Inside, Gregory was already deep in discussion with Jonathan Blake, Summit Realty’s project manager. Sebastian Wilson, the CEO, leaned against the window, his expression unreadable.

"Ah, Evelyn," Sebastian greeted, his voice smooth. "We were just discussing your latest design. There are... concerns."

Evelyn forced a professional smile. "What kind of concerns?"

Jonathan cleared his throat. "The budget. The materials you’ve specified are pushing us over the limit."

Gregory shot her a warning glance, but Evelyn straightened. "Cutting corners now will cost more in the long run. This isn’t just another high-rise—it’s a landmark."

Sebastian studied her, then smirked. "Passionate as always. Fine. But if costs spiral, it’s on your firm."

The meeting ended, tension lingering in the air. As Evelyn gathered her things, her phone buzzed again—Caroline.

"Emergency girls’ night. My place. 8 PM. No excuses."

Evelyn exhaled. She needed this.

Nathaniel stood at the edge of the Martin Group’s rooftop terrace, the city lights sprawling below. Samuel approached, holding out a whiskey.

"Long day?" Samuel asked.

Nathaniel took the glass, swirling the amber liquid. "Isabella’s back in town."

Samuel raised a brow. "And?"

"And nothing." Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "It’s just... complicated."

Samuel hesitated. "Evelyn knows?"

Nathaniel didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

His phone rang—Richard.

"Your grandfather wants to see you. Tonight."

Nathaniel downed the whiskey. "Tell him I’m on my way."

At Caroline’s apartment, Evelyn collapsed onto the couch, a glass of wine already in hand.

"Spill," Caroline demanded.

Evelyn hesitated, then let it all out—Isabella’s sudden return, Nathaniel’s withdrawal, the tension at work.

Caroline frowned. "You think he’s still hung up on her?"

"I don’t know." Evelyn stared into her wine. "But something’s off."

Before Caroline could respond, Evelyn’s phone lit up—a message from an unknown number.

"We need to talk. It’s about Nathaniel. —I.D."

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Isabella Davis.

The past had just crashed into her present.

Evelyn hadn't slept a wink waiting for Nathaniel's return. She watched through bleary eyes as dawn's pale fingers crept across the sky outside her window.

Nathaniel finally stepped through their apartment door at seven fifteen in the morning. The moment the lock clicked, Evelyn sat bolt upright in bed. His familiar footsteps approached their bedroom, and when the door swung open, their gazes locked instantly. Without a word, he crossed the room and enveloped her in his strong embrace.

She pressed her lips together, suppressing a relieved sigh as she melted into his arms. The scent of his cologne - bergamot and sandalwood - instantly calmed her frayed nerves.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" Nathaniel murmured against her hair.

"I dozed a little," Evelyn lied, hating how transparent she must seem. The truth was, sleep terrified her now. Every time she closed her eyes, the nightmares came hunting.

Nathaniel tilted her chin up, his storm-gray eyes searching hers. "Stay with me? I'm exhausted from the red-eye flight."

How could she refuse when he looked at her like that?

With Nathaniel's steady breathing beside her, the gnawing fear in Evelyn's chest eased slightly. She curled against him, absorbing his warmth, and finally drifted off.

The moment her breathing evened out, Nathaniel carefully extricated himself. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, casting a worried glance at Evelyn's sleeping form before settling on the leather armchair by the window.

His fingers flew across the screen: [Evelyn's been having horrific nightmares. Any medical explanation?]

Dr. Harrison replied within minutes: [Stress or anxiety usually triggers night terrors. Has she been under unusual pressure?]

Nathaniel's jaw tightened as he typed: [Could it be physiological?]

[Unlikely. Dreams stem from the subconscious.]

But Nathaniel's gut told him otherwise. He spent the next twenty minutes researching sleep disorders, but every article echoed the doctor's opinion.

He didn't trust textbook answers. Nathaniel Martin only believed what he could see, touch, prove. Yet he couldn't dismiss Evelyn's terror as mere imagination - not when she'd been perfectly fine before his business trip.

A bloodcurdling scream shattered his thoughts.

"Nathaniel!" Evelyn thrashed wildly, sheets tangling around her legs.

He was at her side in an instant, gripping her shoulders. "Evelyn! Wake up, love. It's just a dream."

Her eyes flew open, pupils dilated with primal fear. When he reached for her, she recoiled violently. "Don't touch me!" she gasped.

Nathaniel froze. He'd never seen Evelyn like this - her porcelain skin gone ghostly pale, trembling hands clutching the sheets like a lifeline.

"It was here again," she whispered hoarsely. "That... thing."

"Sweetheart, it was just a nightmare." He kept his voice deliberately calm, though his pulse raced. "You're safe now."

Evelyn shook her head wildly. "No, you don't understand! I felt its breath on my neck. It's real, Nathaniel. It's following me."

The raw terror in her voice sent chills down his spine. Slowly, giving her time to refuse, he gathered her into his arms. This time, she clung to him like a drowning woman, her fingers twisting in his shirt.

They stayed like that for long minutes before Nathaniel gently suggested, "Tell me about the dream. Sometimes saying it aloud takes away its power."

Evelyn shuddered against him. "I can't. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl." She pulled back slightly, searching his face with haunted eyes. "Do you believe me? Really believe me?"