Chapter 62

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. Evelyn stirred, blinking against the light. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble. Even in sleep, he exuded an air of quiet authority.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory.

"Meeting at 10. Client wants revisions. Urgent."

Evelyn sighed. Another fire to put out. She slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Nathaniel.

Downstairs, Alfred was already setting the table for breakfast. "Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he greeted with a slight bow.

"Morning, Alfred," she replied, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The rich aroma filled her senses, sharpening her mind.

Nathaniel appeared moments later, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. "You're up early," he remarked, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Work never sleeps," she quipped, though her tone was light.

His expression turned serious. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard."

She met his gaze. "I have to. This project is important."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Just don’t forget to take care of yourself."

Evelyn smiled faintly. "I won’t."

At the office, Gabrielle handed her a stack of files. "The client’s notes are highlighted. They’re not happy with the layout."

Evelyn flipped through the pages, scanning the comments. "They want more open space?"

Gabrielle nodded. "And they’re insisting on a rooftop garden."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "That wasn’t in the original plan."

Gregory strode in, his expression grim. "We have two days to make the changes."

Her stomach tightened. "Two days?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "They’re threatening to pull out if we don’t comply."

Evelyn clenched her jaw. "Fine. Let’s get to work."

Hours passed in a blur of sketches, revisions, and heated discussions. By late afternoon, Evelyn’s temples throbbed. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes.

Gabrielle placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of her. "You need a break."

Evelyn shook her head. "Not yet."

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

"Dinner tonight? Just us."

She hesitated, glancing at the mountain of work still left. But the thought of spending time with him, away from the chaos, was too tempting.

"Yes. 8 PM?"

"Perfect."

As she set her phone down, a new email notification popped up. The sender’s name made her blood run cold.

Isabella Davis.

The subject line was simple: "We need to talk."

Evelyn’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. Her heart pounded. What could Isabella possibly want now?

Before she could open it, Gregory called her into another meeting.

She exhaled sharply, saving the email for later. But the unease lingered, a shadow at the edge of her thoughts.

Something was coming. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

"She didn't show up. Send someone to track her."

"Understood."

Samuel Yates knew exactly what Nathaniel wanted—eyes on Evelyn at all times. The moment he dropped his boss off at Pineview Villa, he dispatched a team to follow her discreetly.

Meanwhile, Evelyn stepped out of the elevator into the dimly lit underground garage, heels clicking against concrete. She was mere steps from her car when three men materialized from the shadows, blocking her path.

Her expression remained impassive as she assessed them.

One smirked, flashing yellowed teeth. "Hey gorgeous, how about some fun with us?"

Evelyn's fingers tightened around her keys. "I don't know you."

The leader chuckled, stepping closer. "You do now. Come for a drink. We'll make it worth your while."

Her pulse spiked, but her voice stayed level. "If it's money you want, name your price."

They exchanged glances. This wasn't about robbery.

"Enough talking." The man grabbed her wrist. "You're coming with us."

Evelyn twisted free, scanning the garage for help.

One thug snorted. "She's looking for a hero. Grab her already—we're on the clock."

On the clock. A paid job. Someone had sent them.

Her hands instinctively cradled her stomach as she feinted left, then bolted right. But three against one were impossible odds.

Fingers tangled in her hair, yanking viciously. "Bitch thinks she can run?"

Pain exploded across her scalp. "I'll double whatever they're paying you!"

A slap cracked against her cheek, stars bursting behind her eyes.

"Pretty thing like you... maybe we sample the goods first—"

"Not here, idiot!"

They dragged her toward a black van. Once inside, I'm dead. She stomped a heel into a kneecap, earning a howl. The second man backhanded her so hard her vision grayed.

Then—miraculously—a flashlight beam cut through the gloom. "Everything alright here?"

Security!

"Help me!" Evelyn screamed.

The men hesitated, then fled, tires screeching.

Her legs gave out. Something warm trickled down her thighs. No no no—

"Miss? Miss!"

Darkness swallowed her.

Beeping machines greeted Evelyn when she awoke. White walls. Hospital.

Caroline Sullivan materialized beside her, pressing her back onto the pillows. "Don't move. The baby's stable, but you need monitoring."

Stable. She exhaled shakily.

"Who did this?" Caroline demanded.

Evelyn recounted the attack in clipped sentences. The security guard had called the ambulance.

Her phone was shattered, so she borrowed Caroline's to call Pineview Villa. Alfred answered.

"Evelyn, it's nearly midnight. Where are you?"

She swallowed. "Tell Nathaniel I'm staying at Edward Martin's tonight."

Nathaniel's voice cut in, icy. "You'd rather be with Gregory than your husband?"

Her nails bit into her palms. Let him think what he wanted. She hung up without explaining, then called Edward. The old man covered for her without question.

Nathaniel stared at the dead phone. Was this retaliation over today's tabloid photos with Isabella?

Jealousy doesn't suit you, Evelyn.

Dawn painted the hospital room gold when Evelyn's new phone buzzed.

A voice hissed through the receiver: "Isabella Davis met with two ex-cons yesterday. Paid them 50K each."

Evelyn's knuckles whitened around the device.

"Boss... when are you coming back to the company?"

"When I do," she said softly, "there will be consequences for incompetence."

The line went dead.

Thirty minutes later, as Caroline packed her discharge papers, Evelyn stood. "Take me to Isabella's studio."

They arrived as Isabella was leaving, designer sunglasses perched on her nose. Her smile faltered for a nanosecond.

"Evelyn! What a... surprise."

Evelyn stepped into her personal space, voice lethally calm.

"We need to talk."