Chapter 294

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. Evelyn stirred, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Nathaniel had already left for work, leaving only the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

She stretched, her muscles protesting slightly from last night’s events. The gala had been exhausting, but necessary—another step in securing the Martin Group’s latest venture. Still, the weight of unspoken tensions hung between them, a shadow neither had addressed.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory: "Meeting moved to 10. The investors want revisions before signing."

Evelyn sighed. Another last-minute change. She typed a quick reply before tossing the phone aside.

Downstairs, Alfred had already prepared breakfast—fresh fruit, avocado toast, and a steaming cup of Earl Grey. The quiet of the villa was a stark contrast to the chaos of the city beyond its gates.

"Good morning, Mrs. Martin," Alfred greeted, setting down a folded newspaper beside her plate.

"Morning, Alfred," she murmured, flipping through the headlines. Her gaze snagged on a familiar name—Isabella Davis Returns to the Spotlight—accompanied by a glossy photo of Nathaniel’s ex, radiant in a designer gown.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the paper. Isabella had been absent for months, and now, suddenly, she was everywhere. Coincidence? She doubted it.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Nathaniel.

"Running late. Dinner tonight?"

She hesitated, then replied, "If you’re free."

The response was immediate. "I’ll make time."

Evelyn exhaled, setting the phone down. She had a full day ahead—meetings, deadlines, and now, the gnawing suspicion that Isabella’s return was anything but innocent.

But first, coffee.

She took a long sip, steeling herself. Whatever game was being played, she wouldn’t lose. Not again.

She refused to believe this had any connection to Sophia or the Mitchells. "Even if the Mitchell family hasn't treated me well," Evelyn thought, "they wouldn't go this far... would they?"

Nathaniel's brow furrowed, his expression grave.

Shaking her head, Evelyn murmured to him, "I need... just a moment alone."

Nathaniel gave a curt nod, watching as she rose unsteadily. She meant to retreat to their bedroom, but Angie's venomous words echoed in her mind. Instead, she drifted toward the living room balcony.

Nathaniel's voice was ice when he spoke to Samuel. "Monitor her. I want updates constantly."

"Understood, Mr. Martin."

The call ended abruptly. Nathaniel's jaw clenched, storm clouds gathering in his eyes.

He allowed Evelyn ten minutes—no more. When time was up, he found her curled in the patio chair, small and drained. His hand brushed her hair. "Talk to me," he urged.

"I can't reconcile this with the Mitchells," she whispered. "Am I being naive? Or is there some mistake?"

The Mitchells knew about her pregnancy. Harming her now would alienate not just Evelyn, but the entire Martin dynasty.

Nathaniel's frown deepened. "Samuel's investigation will uncover the truth."

Evelyn nodded weakly. He guided her inside, but as she stood—

Darkness swallowed her whole.

—

Hospital lights stung Evelyn's eyes as consciousness returned. Nathaniel stood silhouetted against the window, phone pressed to his ear. Seeing her stir, he ended the call instantly.

"How do you feel?" His thumb traced her cheekbone.

"What... happened?"

"You collapsed. Doctors say stress and exhaustion." His gaze held hers, unflinching. "But you're stable now."

Evelyn threw back the sheets. "I want to leave."

"Nathaniel caught her wrist. His voice roughened. "Two days' observation. Mandatory."

"Why?"

A beat of silence. Then: "Rosalind laced your food with teratogens and hallucinogens. You've eaten little, so exposure was minimal. But we're running full fetal scans to be certain."

He'd intended to shield her from this truth. But when the ER doctors had whispered their findings, Nathaniel nearly sent Samuel to drag the Mitchells there by their hair. Only decades of discipline had stayed his hand.

Evelyn's breath hitched. "The baby—"

"Will be fine." He cradled her face. "Dr. Harrison's overseeing everything personally."

Two interminable days passed in that sterile room. The Martins enforced total secrecy.

Every second tormented Evelyn. Between fearing for her child and dreading the Mitchells' potential involvement, her mind became a broken record:

What if it's true?

What then?

The Martin Marriage (Evelyn and Nathaniel) novel