Chapter 52

The morning sun cast golden streaks across our bedroom as I stirred awake. Nathaniel's arm draped protectively over my waist, his steady breathing warming the back of my neck. I carefully slipped out from beneath his embrace, not wanting to disturb his rare moment of peaceful sleep.

The penthouse smelled of freshly brewed coffee - Alfred must have already prepared breakfast. As I padded barefoot across the marble floors, my phone buzzed with an incoming call from Gregory.

"Evelyn, we've got a situation," his tense voice came through before I could even greet him. "Summit Realty just pulled out of the waterfront project. Sebastian Wilson left me a voicemail at 5 AM."

My stomach dropped. That project accounted for nearly forty percent of our quarterly revenue. "What reason did he give?"

"None. Just said they're 'reevaluating partnerships.'"

I gripped the countertop, my mind racing. This wasn't just business - Sebastian had been Nathaniel's rival since their Ivy League days. The timing couldn't be worse, with Nathaniel's grandfather Edward pressuring him about succession plans.

The shower turned on in our ensuite. Nathaniel would be up soon. "Call an emergency partners meeting for 10 AM," I instructed Gregory. "And pull all our correspondence with Summit from the past six months. I want to know if we missed any red flags."

As I ended the call, strong arms encircled my waist from behind. Nathaniel nuzzled my neck, his damp hair tickling my cheek. "Morning, Mrs. Martin," he murmured. "You're up early."

I turned in his embrace, forcing a smile. "Just getting a head start on the day." His piercing blue eyes studied me, and I knew he could tell something was wrong. Nathaniel always knew.

Before he could press me, his phone rang. Samuel's name flashed on the screen. Nathaniel sighed, giving me an apologetic kiss before answering. "Yates, this better be important."

I watched his expression darken as Samuel spoke. His jaw tightened in that particular way that meant trouble. When he hung up, he looked at me with grim understanding. "You heard about Summit."

I nodded. "Gregory just told me."

Nathaniel's phone buzzed again - this time with a text that made his face go pale. He showed me the screen: a gossip column photo of Isabella Davis leaving a hotel with Sebastian Wilson last night. The caption read: "Reunited and it feels so good? Former supermodel cozy with real estate mogul."

The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. Isabella was Nathaniel's ex who'd never gotten over their breakup. And Sebastian would happily use her to get to Nathaniel - through me.

Nathaniel's hands framed my face. "Evelyn, whatever game they're playing, we'll handle it together." His thumbs brushed my cheeks. "But you should know... Edward's called a family dinner tonight. He wants to discuss 'the future of Martin Group.'"

The shower still running in the background, the scent of coffee now bitter in my throat, I realized this wasn't just about one lost project. This was the opening move in a much larger battle - one that would test our marriage, our careers, and everything we'd built together.

And Isabella Davis had just taken her first shot across our bows.

"Absolutely not. You're correct. Evelyn is the lady of the house."

Isabella's response was icy, her earlier enthusiasm for Thomas vanishing instantly.

Thomas replied calmly, "Good."

"Take a seat. I'll have the chef prepare some soup for Nathaniel."

"Go ahead."

Isabella shot him a glance before heading to the kitchen.

Thomas and Nathaniel had been close since childhood—inseparable, really.

So Isabella didn’t dare disrespect him, let alone show any hint of displeasure.

But his words had rubbed her the wrong way.

In her mind, she cursed him for meddling.

Evelyn, in the middle of a meeting with Summit Realty’s project lead, received a call from Alfred.

When she learned Thomas was at Pineview Villa and wanted her to return, her stomach twisted. "Alfred, please tell him I’m tied up with work. I might not be back soon."

The only reason she could think of for Thomas seeking her out was Nathaniel’s hospitalization.

After that, Alfred didn’t call again, and she threw herself into work.

Summit Realty was finalizing the artwork—Martin Group would officially begin the project in two weeks. Time was tight.

Her thoughts drifted to Nathaniel. Her face paled, her focus slipping.

Gregory leaned in, whispering, "Evelyn, are you feeling unwell?"

She snapped back to reality, shaking her head.

"No, just lost in thought."

"What’s wrong?" Gregory pressed gently.

Evelyn hesitated before confessing, "Nathaniel was hospitalized after a car accident. Because of Isabella, I don’t want to visit him. Do you think that’s wrong?"

"Did the accident happen because of her?"

"Indirectly."

He’d been looking for her, after all.

Gregory said evenly, "If he was acting for someone else, the fault was never yours to begin with. You’re justified in staying away."

"Really?"

"A man must own his choices—and their consequences. You’re not obligated to clean up his mess."

His words were firm, but guilt still gnawed at her.

By five in the evening, she drove back to Pineview Villa.

The sight of the white Mercedes parked by the garage made her frown.

She parked and stepped inside.

Thomas lounged on the sofa, scrolling through his phone with bored disinterest.

She blinked in surprise. "Thomas?"

"The one and only." He straightened, setting his phone aside with a faint smile. "Evelyn, I’ve been waiting."

"I told Alfred not to expect me."

She took a seat across from him, her expression cool.

"Since I came all this way, I wasn’t leaving without seeing you."

"What do you want?"

"One thing. Will you hear me out?" His tone was polite, almost pleading.

His demeanor made refusal difficult.

Thomas continued, "I hope you’ll visit Nathaniel. I know you’re angry—rightfully so. But he’s injured. As his wife, you should be there. You can’t let Isabella hover over him indefinitely, can you?"

Evelyn smirked. "I think he’d prefer her company over mine."

"That’s speculation. You haven’t visited since yesterday. He hasn’t even showered—depressed as hell. If I filmed him like this and sold it to the press, I’d make a killing."

"Feel free. Might be a lucrative side hustle."

Their exchange was light, almost playful.

But Evelyn never agreed.

Thomas knew little about her beyond her devotion to Nathaniel. In their year of marriage, she’d always been the one reaching out. But after this conversation, he wondered if that dynamic would shift.

Thomas studied her intently, his voice dropping. "We’re not close, and I never beg. But if you visit him, consider me in your debt. Any favor, anytime."

Evelyn laughed softly.

She knew Nathaniel hadn’t asked for her. That much was obvious.

But Thomas’s persistence intrigued her. After a pause, she relented—not for Nathaniel, but to spare the Martin Group unnecessary scandal.

Thomas personally drove her to the hospital, as if fearing she’d bolt.

At the ward door, Evelyn reached for the handle, but Thomas stopped her. "Allow me. You’re my guest tonight."

"Thanks." Her smile was thin.

The scene inside wiped it clean off her face.

Her voice turned glacial. "Sorry to interrupt."

She hadn’t even stepped inside before turning to leave.

Thomas caught her arm. "Evelyn, wait. Let’s talk this through."

He guided her into the ward, shutting the door behind them. The air thickened with tension.

Isabella sat perched on the edge of the bed, spoon in hand, feeding Nathaniel.

He’d refused at first, waiting for Samuel. But she’d insisted—until he gave in.

Just as the spoon neared his lips, Evelyn walked in.

Isabella set the bowl down hastily. "Evelyn, you’re here. I thought you were busy, so I brought soup for Nathaniel."

Evelyn ignored her, her gaze locked on the man in the bed.

He looked nothing like the lifeless figure wheeled out of surgery.

A bitter thought crossed her mind: I almost wish he’d stayed that way.

Nathaniel stared back.

Her outfit was different today—a denim skirt with a slit, her calves exposed. She stood just out of reach, Thomas’s grip still on her arm.

Nathaniel’s frown deepened. "She’s here now. Do you really think she’ll run?"