Chapter 293

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, illuminating the blueprints spread across her desk. Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the latest project—a luxury resort in the Maldives. The design was ambitious, but she thrived on challenges.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called without looking up.

Gabrielle, her assistant, stepped inside, holding a steaming cup of coffee. "You've been at this since dawn," she remarked, placing the cup beside Evelyn. "Thought you might need this."

Evelyn smiled gratefully. "You're a lifesaver."

Gabrielle hesitated, then added, "Mr. Wilson called earlier. He wants to discuss the Summit Realty proposal before the meeting this afternoon."

Evelyn sighed, rubbing her temples. Gregory had been relentless about securing the deal, but something about Edward Wilson's sudden interest in their firm didn't sit right with her.

"I'll handle it," she said, taking a sip of coffee. The rich aroma grounded her, sharpening her focus.

Just then, her phone buzzed—a message from Nathaniel.

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

Her heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel had been unusually distant lately, buried in work and late-night meetings. She typed a quick reply.

"Of course. 8 PM at La Perle?"

His response was immediate. "Perfect. See you then."

Evelyn set the phone down, her mind racing. What could he want to talk about?

Gabrielle cleared her throat. "Oh, and Caroline called. She said it's urgent."

Evelyn frowned. Caroline rarely used the word urgent. "I'll call her back."

As Gabrielle left, Evelyn dialed her cousin's number.

Caroline picked up on the first ring. "Evelyn, you need to see this."

"What is it?"

"I just ran into Isabella at the hospital. She was meeting with Dr. Harrison."

Evelyn's grip tightened on the phone. "Why?"

Caroline lowered her voice. "I don’t know, but she looked... nervous. And she was holding an envelope."

A cold knot formed in Evelyn's stomach. Isabella had been nothing but trouble since she reappeared in Nathaniel's life.

"Thanks for letting me know," Evelyn said quietly.

Hanging up, she stared at the blueprints, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Something was coming.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

She hesitated for a long moment before speaking. "Evelyn, none of that is real. I checked this apartment thoroughly before moving in. It's brand new—no one has ever lived here before."

"But those people sounded so certain," Rosalind insisted, her voice trembling. "Mrs. Martin, I'm particularly sensitive to these things. A pregnant woman's energy is already different from others, let alone one who... took her own life..."

She trailed off, too afraid to finish.

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Rosalind, these are just rumors. Don't let them get to you. If you really want to leave, at least wait until I find a replacement, alright?"

Reluctantly, Rosalind agreed, promising to stay until then.

After preparing dinner, Rosalind left quickly. Alone, Evelyn curled up on the sofa, her gaze drifting around the empty apartment. Despite her earlier dismissal, Rosalind's words clung to her like a shadow.

The more she thought about it, the heavier the unease in her chest grew. By the time Nathaniel returned, she was nearly convinced.

But why was she the only one having nightmares? Nathaniel slept soundly beside her every night, and Rosalind had never mentioned anything unusual.

Just as her thoughts spiraled, the front door clicked open.

Evelyn jolted, her pulse racing—until Nathaniel stepped inside.

"Did I startle you?" he asked softly, frowning at her tense posture.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she recounted Rosalind’s unsettling claims. "I’ve been having nightmares, Nathaniel. And now this... I’m scared."

His expression darkened. "It’s nothing. Just superstition." He cupped her face gently. "Let’s go for a walk. Fresh air will help."

She agreed. After dinner, they strolled through the neighborhood, but Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that passersby were watching her—their gazes filled with something like pity.

Her grip on Nathaniel’s arm tightened. "Do you see how they’re looking at me?"

He followed her line of sight, then shook his head. "No one’s staring, Evelyn. You’re imagining things."

"Am I?" She bit her lip. The whispers in her mind grew louder.

Nathaniel turned her to face him. "Trust me. There’s nothing wrong."

She wanted to believe him. But doubt had already taken root.

That night, Nathaniel called Samuel to investigate. The results were shocking.

"Mr. Martin," Samuel reported over speakerphone, "Rosalind previously worked for the Mitchell family but resigned two years ago due to health issues. The family compensated her generously. She only returned to work six months ago—shortly after meeting Sophia."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. "That can’t be true."

But the pieces were falling into place.

And none of them led anywhere good.