Chapter 39

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, casting golden patterns across the marble floors. I stretched lazily, my fingers brushing against Nathaniel's bare chest. He stirred, his arm tightening around my waist possessively.

"Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. His lips found the sensitive spot behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I turned to face him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "Someone's in a good mood today."

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. With a frustrated groan, he reached for it. His expression darkened as he read the message.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up.

"Edward wants to see us immediately," he said, referring to his grandfather. "Something about the merger."

I frowned. The Martin-Whitmore merger had been smooth sailing so far. "Did something go wrong?"

Nathaniel was already out of bed, pulling on his dress shirt with quick, efficient movements. "I don't know, but we'll find out soon enough."

An hour later, we were seated in Edward Martin's imposing office. The old man's piercing gaze moved between us as he tapped his fingers against the polished mahogany desk.

"I've received some... concerning information," Edward began, his voice like gravel. "It appears Isabella Davis has been making inquiries about our family."

My breath caught. Isabella—Nathaniel's ex and the woman who'd tried to sabotage our relationship multiple times.

Nathaniel's jaw clenched. "What kind of inquiries?"

"Financial records. Property holdings." Edward's eyes narrowed. "She's digging where she doesn't belong."

I exchanged a glance with Nathaniel. This couldn't be good.

"More importantly," Edward continued, "she's been seen meeting with Sebastian Wilson."

My blood ran cold. Sebastian Wilson—the ruthless CEO of Summit Realty and our biggest competitor in the commercial property market.

"Why would she—" I started, but Nathaniel cut me off.

"She's planning something," he said grimly. "And whatever it is, we need to be prepared."

Edward nodded. "I've already instructed Winston to increase security at all our properties. Nathaniel, I want you to—"

The office door burst open, and Samuel Yates rushed in, his usually composed face pale. "Sir, you need to see this."

He handed Nathaniel a tablet. As Nathaniel scrolled through the document, his expression turned thunderous.

"What is it?" I asked, my stomach twisting with dread.

Nathaniel turned the screen toward me. It was a leaked internal memo from Martin Group—detailing our entire strategy for the Whitmore merger. And at the bottom of the document, clear as day, was my electronic signature.

My heart stopped. "That's impossible. I never—"

But the evidence was right there in black and white. Someone had framed me.

Edward's voice was icy. "This was sent to every major news outlet thirty minutes ago. Our stock is already plummeting."

Nathaniel's phone rang. He answered tersely, then hung up. "The board is calling an emergency meeting."

As we stood to leave, Edward's gaze locked onto mine. "Evelyn, I suggest you prepare a very good explanation."

The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air. Even Nathaniel hesitated before following me out, his trust in me clearly shaken.

By the time we reached the boardroom, my mind was racing. Someone had set me up—but who? Isabella? Sebastian? Or someone else entirely?

The board members' hostile stares burned into me as I took my seat. The chairman cleared his throat. "Mrs. Martin, perhaps you'd like to explain how our most confidential documents ended up in the hands of our competitors?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Nathaniel spoke first. "Before we jump to conclusions, I think we should—"

The door slammed open again. This time, it was Vanessa, Isabella's agent, looking positively gleeful. "Sorry to interrupt," she purred, "but I think you'll want to see this."

She held up her phone, playing a video. The grainy footage showed someone who looked exactly like me sneaking into Nathaniel's office late at night, accessing his computer.

Gasps filled the room. My stomach dropped to the floor.

Because that wasn't me in the video.

But it sure as hell looked like me.

Vanessa smirked. "Isabella will be holding a press conference in one hour to discuss this... unfortunate breach of trust."

As she strutted out, the board members erupted into angry shouts. Nathaniel's face was unreadable as he turned to me.

"Evelyn," he said quietly, "tell me that isn't you in that video."

I reached for his hand, but he pulled away. The rejection stung more than any accusation.

"I swear to you, Nathaniel, that's not me. Someone is setting me up."

The chairman banged his gavel. "Until this matter is resolved, Mrs. Martin, you are suspended from all Martin Group activities effective immediately."

As security approached to escort me out, Nathaniel didn't move to stop them. His silence cut deeper than any words.

The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Isabella's smug face on the television screen, preparing to destroy everything I'd worked for.

And Nathaniel... just letting it happen.

Nathaniel froze momentarily, caught off guard by Evelyn's question. Before he could respond, she had already withdrawn her hand.

"I'm exhausted," she murmured, turning away. "You should shower."

Her tone carried clear resistance as she settled into the pillows. Nathaniel studied her for a long moment before heading to the bathroom, though her words echoed in his mind.

What would he do if Evelyn asked to stay married?

The answer came swiftly - he'd refuse. His promise to Isabella left no room for hesitation.

That night, an uneasy truce settled between them, each haunted by private thoughts.

Evelyn awoke before dawn, Nathaniel's arm anchoring her to the bed. With only two days left of this arrangement, she savored the warmth of his embrace, remaining still until a knock interrupted them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Martin," came the servant's voice. "Sir Edward requests your presence for breakfast."

Before Evelyn could respond, Nathaniel answered, "We'll be down shortly."

He turned to Evelyn, assuming she still slept, and whispered, "Time to wake up, darling."

When she turned instinctively, their noses brushed, locking them in an unexpected moment. Nathaniel's gaze traced her delicate features - the fluttering lashes, flawless complexion so unlike the heavily made-up women he knew. There was an arresting purity to her beauty.

Evelyn found herself equally captivated by his sleep-tousled hair and the tantalizing glimpse of chest visible through his skewed pajamas. The prolonged eye contact grew unnerving.

A sudden realization struck - morning arousal. She turned abruptly to rise, but Nathaniel caught her wrist.

"Running away?" His morning voice was rough yet amused.

"Your grandfather's waiting," she deflected, pulse racing. "Let me go."

"He'd be happier if we stayed in bed longer. Don't you know why?" His teasing tone sent shivers down her spine.

When her hand accidentally grazed his bare chest, Nathaniel trapped it against his skin. "Why won't you look at me, Evelyn?"

Her lips parted slightly as she fought the intoxicating effect of his proximity. "I wasn't avoiding you."

"Prove it." His challenge hung between them.

"Release me first."

"You'll bolt the second I do."

"I promise I won't."

The warmth of his breath on her neck sent tremors through her body. When Nathaniel refused to relent, Evelyn turned reluctantly - only to nearly brush her lips against his.

Nathaniel's eyes darkened. "Was that intentional?"

"Of course not!"

"Liar." Before she could protest further, his mouth claimed hers.

Evelyn froze, only regaining her senses when he pulled back. She scrambled from bed, fleeing to the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her burning cheeks.

"What are we doing?" she berated herself. "We're getting divorced. This can't happen."

Several minutes later, she emerged to find Nathaniel gone - a relief that spared them both awkwardness.

Downstairs, Edward had finished breakfast alone. Victoria was golfing with friends while Richard had left on business. The morning passed quietly with chess games and observation.

At lunch preparation, Evelyn joined Victoria in the kitchen. But cooking odors overwhelmed her, turning her pale. Victoria noticed immediately. "You should rest, dear. We have help here."

"Thank you," Evelyn managed before escaping to fresher air.

In the living room, she discreetly photographed Nathaniel engrossed in chess with his father and grandfather. The image of his focused expression would become another bittersweet memory.

Lunch featured Victoria's specialties: mushroom bisque, filet mignon, lobster thermidor, and delicate pastries. Yet each rich aroma churned Evelyn's stomach.

When Victoria encouraged seconds, Evelyn bolted for the bathroom.

Nathaniel's expression darkened with concern. Edward remained calm. "Her stomach's been sensitive. These rich dishes might be too much."

"Check on her," Edward instructed.

Nathaniel found Evelyn wiping her mouth, pale but composed. "You should have told me you were unwell," he murmured.

"It's nothing," she insisted.

His frown deepened. Back at the table, he announced, "The family doctor needs to examine you. This has gone on too long."

Evelyn's gaze flicked to Edward before protesting, "I've already been checked. It's just a stomach bug."

"Then where's your medicine?" Nathaniel countered, already summoning Dr. Harrison.

Victoria beamed at her son's concern. "How wonderful to see you looking after your wife."

Nathaniel ignored the comment while Evelyn masked her growing panic. As the doctor arrived, her secret hung precariously in the balance.