Chapter 46

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains as Evelyn stretched beneath the silk sheets. Nathaniel's side of the bed was already cold - he'd left for his early meeting without waking her again. She traced the empty space with her fingertips, the satin fabric cool against her skin.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Gabrielle's name flashed across the screen with three missed calls. Evelyn's stomach clenched as she reached for it.

"Evelyn, thank God!" Gabrielle's voice came through in a rushed whisper. "You need to get to the office now. Gregory's been trying to reach you for an hour. There's... there's been a situation with the Montclair project."

Evelyn was already out of bed, pulling on her robe. "What kind of situation?"

"The kind with police tape and news vans," Gabrielle said. "Someone leaked those structural reports to the press. The ones with the... discrepancies."

Ice flooded Evelyn's veins. She could hear the panic in her assistant's voice, could picture the chaos unfolding at Mitchell & Wilson Architects. The Montclair project was their biggest contract this year - Nathaniel had personally recommended them for it.

She dressed in record time, her fingers fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. The elevator ride down to the garage seemed to take hours. When her phone rang again, she expected it to be Gregory or Gabrielle. The name Isabella Davis flashing on the screen made her breath catch.

"Evelyn, darling," Isabella's smooth voice purred through the phone. "I do hope you're having a lovely morning. Though I suspect it's about to become... complicated."

Evelyn's grip tightened on the steering wheel as she pulled out of the garage. "What do you want, Isabella?"

"Just thought you should know," Isabella continued, her tone dripping with false concern, "those reports didn't leak themselves. And when Nathaniel finds out who really tampered with the structural calculations... well, let's just say it won't be me he blames this time."

The call disconnected before Evelyn could respond. The city streets blurred past as she pressed harder on the accelerator, her mind racing. She'd checked those calculations herself. Double-checked them. There couldn't be mistakes. Unless...

Her phone buzzed again - a text from an unknown number. The attached photo showed a document with her signature on altered figures. Except she'd never seen this version before. The signature looked real. The numbers were dangerously wrong.

And the timestamp showed the changes were made last night - while she'd been alone in the office working late.

Evelyn's blood ran cold. Someone had set her up. And with the police already at the site, she had maybe an hour to prove it before the scandal reached Nathaniel's ears. Before everything she'd built came crashing down.

Nathaniel's grip on Evelyn's chin tightened, his voice dripping with venom. "You claim you're just friends with Gregory. What's this then?"

"People change," Evelyn retorted, meeting his furious gaze without flinching.

His fingers dug deeper, the threat unspoken but clear. She didn't resist, her indifference only fueling his rage. With a rough shove, he threw her onto the bed, pinning her beneath him.

His breath was hot against her ear, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You're my wife, Evelyn. Yet you care more about another man. Do you think I won't make you regret this?"

Her hands instinctively cradled her abdomen, her body stiffening in refusal. The rejection sent a fresh wave of fury through him.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded, his icy stare boring into her.

Evelyn exhaled shakily. "I am telling you the truth."

"Truth?" Nathaniel scoffed. "So you're admitting you love him?"

She turned her face away.

"Answer me!"

"If that's what you want to believe, then fine. Assume whatever you like."

He didn’t let her finish. His mouth crashed onto hers, punishing and possessive. It wasn’t a kiss—it was a brand, a claim meant to hurt.

Evelyn fought, twisting beneath him, but her struggles only spurred him on. Within moments, her clothes were in disarray, her hair tangled. She shoved at his shoulders, her nails scraping skin, but he didn’t relent.

"Nathaniel, stop!" Her voice broke into a sob.

All she could think was the baby—still so fragile, still in danger. She couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not like this.

But resistance was futile.

"I hate you," she choked out, her throat raw from screaming.

Outside, Mayby’s temperamental skies split open. Thunder roared, rain hammering the windows like an omen.

When it was over, Evelyn lay motionless, every inch of her body aching. A sharp, tearing pain pulsed low in her abdomen, growing worse by the second.

Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself to the bathroom. Under the scalding spray of the shower, she tried to wash away the violation.

Then she saw it.

Blood.

Bright, terrifying streaks running down her legs.

Her breath seized.

"Nathaniel!"

The door burst open. He caught her just as her knees gave out, her vision swimming. The last thing she heard was his frantic shout for the car.

The hospital lights were blinding.

Evelyn surfaced from unconsciousness to the sterile scent of antiseptic. Her hand flew to her stomach before her eyes were fully open.

"Don’t move," Nathaniel ordered, pressing her back down.

"I need the doctor," she insisted, her voice thin with panic.

"You’re fine. Just rest."

"No—get the doctor now!"

His jaw clenched, but he relented.

When the physician arrived, Evelyn searched his face desperately. "Am I...?"

The doctor gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "You’ll be alright. Caroline briefed us. Just focus on recovering."

Relief flooded her. She sank back, hands resting protectively over her womb.

Stay with me, little one. I won’t let anything hurt you again.

Nathaniel hovered, his expression unreadable. "You should eat."

She turned her face to the wall.

"About last night—"

"Leave," she whispered. "Just leave."

Dawn crept in, pale and uneasy.

Caroline found Nathaniel in the hallway, his usually impeccable appearance disheveled.

"If you can’t love her," she said quietly, "let her go."

He said nothing.

Evelyn’s fingers curled into the sheets, her silent vow echoing in the stillness.

This child will survive. No matter what.