Chapter 34

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom. Evelyn stirred, blinking against the light as she stretched beneath the silk sheets. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady and calm. She studied his profile—the strong jawline, the dark lashes resting against his cheeks—and felt a familiar warmth spread through her chest.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the peaceful silence. She reached for it, careful not to disturb Nathaniel. A message from Gregory flashed on the screen:

"Evelyn, we need to talk. The Summit Realty deal is getting complicated. Call me ASAP."

Frowning, she slipped out of bed and padded toward the balcony, the cool morning air brushing against her skin. She dialed Gregory’s number, her mind already racing with possibilities.

He answered on the first ring. "You’re awake."

"Barely," she murmured, rubbing her temple. "What’s going on?"

"Sebastian Wilson is making moves behind the scenes. He’s trying to cut us out of the project."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on the phone. "He can’t do that. We signed the contract."

Gregory sighed. "He’s claiming breach of terms. Says we missed a deadline."

"That’s impossible. I reviewed everything last week."

"Then he’s lying," Gregory said flatly. "But he’s got Jonathan Blake backing him up, and they’re pushing hard."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "I’ll handle it. Set up a meeting with Sebastian today."

"You think that’s a good idea?"

"I don’t have a choice. If he’s playing dirty, I need to know why."

Behind her, the bedroom door creaked open. Nathaniel stepped onto the balcony, his shirt half-buttoned, his hair still tousled from sleep. "Everything okay?" he asked, his voice rough with sleepiness.

Evelyn forced a smile. "Just work stuff."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I’ll make coffee."

As he disappeared back inside, Gregory’s voice crackled through the phone. "You sure you don’t want me to handle this?"

"No," Evelyn said firmly. "This is my fight."

She ended the call and leaned against the railing, her thoughts churning. The Summit Realty deal was supposed to be her big break—proof that she could stand on her own in the industry. Now, Sebastian was threatening to take it all away.

But she wouldn’t let him.

Not without a fight.

Nathaniel watched Evelyn from the kitchen as she paced the living room, her phone pressed to her ear. Her expression was tense, her fingers tapping restlessly against her thigh. He poured two cups of coffee and carried them over, setting one on the table in front of her.

She barely glanced at it.

"Talk to me," he said quietly.

She hesitated, then lowered the phone. "It’s Summit Realty. Sebastian’s trying to back out of our contract."

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "Why?"

"He’s claiming we breached terms, but it’s bullshit. Gregory and I checked every detail."

Nathaniel leaned forward. "Let me help."

She shook her head. "I need to handle this myself."

"Evelyn—"

"I need to," she repeated, her voice firm.

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. But if it gets messy, I’m stepping in."

She gave him a small, grateful smile. "Deal."

Her phone buzzed again—a message from Gregory.

"Meeting set. Noon at their office."

Evelyn took a deep breath.

Showtime.

Nathaniel scoffed, "Excuse me? You want to divorce her, and I'm not allowed to arrange her future?"

Edward Martin's words cut like ice. "Of course I know you're still married. That's exactly why I want you to find her a suitable match before the divorce. Let the world see Evelyn isn't some desperate woman clinging to you."

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "Does Evelyn know about this?"

"Whether she does or not is irrelevant. Evelyn respects me. She'll listen."

A bitter laugh escaped Nathaniel. "Tell me, Grandfather—am I actually your blood?"

Edward's glare could have frozen hell. "If you weren't, I'd have broken both your legs by now."

Outside these walls, Nathaniel Martin was untouchable—a king whose word shaped empires. Here? He was just a grandson being ordered to play matchmaker for his own wife.

Gritting his teeth, he surrendered. "Fine. I'll handle it."

"See that you do it properly. This isn't some trivial matter. I expect results."

Nathaniel gave a stiff nod, his mind conjuring images of Evelyn smiling at another man—introducing him to Edward as her new love. His fingers curled into fists.

Dismissed, Nathaniel left the hospital in a black mood that clung to him like a storm cloud. His assistant, Samuel, tread carefully, avoiding any missteps that might draw his ire.

——

Across town, Evelyn found her cousin Caroline Sullivan at the hospital—the first person she'd confided in about her pregnancy.

"You're not imposing," Caroline chided, handing her water. "Family doesn't keep score." Checking her watch, she added, "Come on, my friend's on duty. She's the best OB-GYN here—discreet and thorough."

The ultrasound confirmed what Evelyn prayed for: a healthy heartbeat. "Just be cautious these first three months," the doctor advised. "After that, you can resume normal activities."

Relief washed over Evelyn. "Thank you."

Later, over coffee, Caroline studied her. "You're really not telling him?"

Evelyn shook her head. "The divorce makes it irrelevant. And please—don't mention it to the family yet."

Since her last visit to Martin Manor, when she'd hinted at ending the marriage, Margaret Mitchell had gone radio silent. Calls went unanswered.

Caroline, who knew the Mitchell dynamics better than anyone, squeezed her hand. "Aunt Margaret still giving you the cold shoulder?"

Evelyn deflected. "How's work been?"

Recognizing the evasion, Caroline let it go.

——

Leaving the hospital, Evelyn tried Margaret again. A maid answered, tone dripping with disinterest.

"Mrs. Mitchell isn't home."

"My father?"

"Also out." A pause, then dismissal. "Unless it's urgent, I have duties."

The line went dead. Upstairs, Sophia Mitchell smirked at the maid's report. "Good. No need to upset Mother further."

——

That evening, Nathaniel didn't return to Pineview Villa. Instead, he summoned Thomas and others to the Velvet Lounge.

Between drinks, Thomas finally asked, "What's eating you?"

Nathaniel swirled his whiskey. "Grandfather wants me to set Evelyn up with someone before our divorce. Tell me—whose grandson am I, really?"

The group blinked.

Thomas, ever the provocateur, grinned. "Introduce her to me. My parents are hounding me to marry. No feelings now, but who knows?"

Nathaniel's glass hit the table with a crack. "Say that again," he said softly, eyes glacial, "and you'll need reconstructive surgery."

He left without another word.

——

Isabella called as Nathaniel sped toward Pineview. "Aren't you coming home?"

"What do you want?"

Her voice turned saccharine. "Just concerned. Evelyn just got back—must've had a date."

Nathaniel's grip on the wheel tightened. "Isabella, the doctor said you need rest. Go to bed." He hung up mid-protest.

——

Inside the villa, Isabella's frustration boiled over. It's barely 9:30! Since when does he care about my sleep?

Spotting Evelyn sketching at the dining table, she marched over. "Do you have a problem with me living here?"

Evelyn didn't glance up. "What an imagination. Ever considered screenwriting?"

Isabella's smile turned venomous. "Because of you, Nathaniel stays out all night. Evelyn—who do you think you are?"