Chapter 66

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She traced the sharp line of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at how peaceful he looked.

Last night had been… intense.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Mrs. Martin?" Alfred’s voice was muffled through the wood. "Mr. Edward has requested your presence in the study."

Evelyn frowned. Edward rarely summoned her directly. Something must be wrong.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Nathaniel, and dressed quickly. The mansion was eerily quiet as she made her way to the study.

Edward sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable. Winston stood beside him, his usual composed demeanor replaced with tension.

"Evelyn," Edward greeted, his voice grave. "Sit down."

Her pulse quickened. "What’s going on?"

Edward slid a folder across the desk. "This arrived early this morning."

Evelyn opened it, her breath catching as she scanned the contents. Legal documents—divorce papers, signed by Nathaniel.

Her hands trembled. "This—this can’t be real."

Edward’s gaze darkened. "It is. And there’s more."

Winston handed her another document. A restraining order, filed against her by Nathaniel.

Evelyn’s vision blurred. "Why would he do this?"

Edward sighed. "I don’t know. But we need to act fast."

The door burst open. Nathaniel strode in, his expression cold. "Evelyn."

She stood, clutching the papers. "What is this?"

His jaw clenched. "Exactly what it looks like."

"You’re divorcing me?" Her voice cracked.

Nathaniel’s gaze flickered to Edward before hardening again. "It’s for the best."

Evelyn stepped back, shaking her head. "No. You don’t get to do this without an explanation."

A smirk twisted his lips. "You really don’t know?"

She froze.

Then, from the hallway, a familiar laugh echoed.

Isabella stepped into the room, her arm looping possessively through Nathaniel’s. "Oh, Evelyn. Did you really think he’d choose you in the end?"

The world tilted.

Evelyn’s knees buckled, but before she could fall, strong hands caught her.

"Get out." Edward’s voice was steel.

Nathaniel didn’t move. "This is my house."

"Not anymore." Edward snapped his fingers. Winston stepped forward, flanked by two security guards.

Isabella’s smirk faltered. "You can’t—"

"Escort them out," Edward ordered.

As Nathaniel was dragged away, his eyes locked with Evelyn’s—filled with something she couldn’t decipher. Regret? Anger?

Or worse—indifference.

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

Then Edward exhaled sharply. "Evelyn, listen to me carefully. This isn’t over."

She stared at him, numb.

"Because," he continued, his voice low, "Nathaniel didn’t sign those papers."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

Edward’s lips thinned. "Someone forged his signature."

The room spun.

And in that moment, Evelyn realized—this wasn’t just a betrayal.

It was a war.

The agent voiced their concerns, hoping Isabella would give it serious thought.

Isabella remained silent, pressing her lips together, her expression unreadable.

The note was brief—only a single line: "There's an issue with the new assistant. Ignore it at your own peril."

With no concrete evidence linking Evelyn to the matter, Isabella had no choice but to keep her suspicions to herself and act as though nothing was amiss.

After handling the situation, Evelyn also sent a message to her mother: "What you did in my name doesn’t just endanger me—it risks dragging the entire Mitchell family down with me."

Margaret didn’t respond, but Evelyn knew she had seen it.

Life returned to normal. The project had officially begun, with the exterior and landscape designs approved. Evelyn adjusted the construction timeline and addressed any discrepancies that arose.

The Martin Group had named the project Urban Haven, encompassing office buildings, villas, and residential zones.

Every day, Evelyn and her assistant, Gabrielle, visited the construction site while delegating other company matters to Gregory and his team. The project required constant interaction with various stakeholders. Evelyn’s sincerity and humility won her favor—she listened to everyone’s input and considered it seriously. The feedback from the site was overwhelmingly positive.

By late afternoon, as they prepared to leave, Daniel approached her. "Evelyn, there’s a dinner tonight with the interior design team. Care to join us?"

After recent collaborations, Daniel had grown comfortable addressing her by her first name.

Evelyn wasn’t fond of networking events, but refusing might create friction. She agreed.

"Alright. I’ll follow your car."

"Perfect."

The dinner was held at one of the Martin Group’s preferred upscale hotels.

The introductions were smooth, the atmosphere warm.

When the group suggested moving to a club afterward, Evelyn declined. "You all go ahead. I’ll catch up next time."

Daniel backed her up, allowing her to leave without protest.

As she and Gabrielle exited, they were intercepted by a group of notorious socialites—some of whom Evelyn recognized from elite circles.

Normally, she would’ve ignored them, but tonight, they blocked her path.

Dominic, the one who knew her name, smirked. "Well, if it isn’t Ms. Mitchell? Still as stunning as ever."

Evelyn gave a curt nod.

The man beside Dominic sneered. "What, too good to talk to us now?"

Dominic chuckled. "Oh, you know how it is—the colder they seem, the hotter they burn behind closed doors."

Laughter erupted.

Gabrielle shrank back, clutching Evelyn’s sleeve nervously.

Evelyn remained composed, meeting Dominic’s gaze. "Mr. Lynch, if you’re done, I’ll be on my way."

Dominic leered, stepping aside but slipping a business card into her pocket as she passed. "Heard you know how to have fun. Call me if you want a good time."

Evelyn didn’t react, walking away without a word. Behind her, whispers followed.

"Think she’ll actually call?"

"Of course. Women like her always do."

Their voices faded as they reached the parking lot. Only then did Gabrielle speak. "Ms. Mitchell, are you okay? They were disgusting."

"I’m fine," Evelyn replied calmly, retrieving the card and tossing it out the window.

She dismissed the encounter. The Urban Haven project was progressing smoothly—finally, a moment to breathe.

After the incident at Martin Manor, the divorce discussion with Nathaniel had stalled.

He had refused to engage, leaving for a two-day business trip before finally returning tonight.

Dinner was silent.

Isabella had been busy lately and wasn’t present.

Evelyn broke the quiet first. "Nathaniel, where did you go these past two days?"

"Think I lied about the trip?"

"That’s not what I meant."

She had only asked casually—how had he twisted it?

Nathaniel studied her before asking, "Why so quiet now?"

"I didn’t assume anything."

"Hm."

Silence again.

It wasn’t until after dinner that they spoke once more.

Nathaniel retreated to his study; Evelyn returned to their bedroom.

After showering, she paused before the full-length mirror while selecting tomorrow’s outfit.

She studied her reflection. Though the baby wasn’t even three months along, she could already see the subtle changes.

Her stomach had grown.

She turned, examining her profile before lifting her shirt and resting her hands on her belly. A small smile touched her lips.

"Hello, little one. I’m your mom."

"What are you doing?" Nathaniel’s voice cut through the room.

Evelyn startled, quickly lowering her shirt.

Their eyes met. She forced calm into her expression. "Just checking the mirror."

"Just checking?"

He approached slowly, stopping inches away.

Evelyn lowered her gaze. "Finished with work?"

"Evelyn. Are you deflecting?"

"No."

"Then answer the question."

His persistence was relentless.

Evelyn exhaled softly. "Nathaniel, I was just looking. I’ve gained some weight recently."

"Have you?" His brow arched. "Where?"

She pressed her lips together. "My waist. My stomach."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Let me see." Before she could react, his hand settled over her abdomen through the fabric.

Evelyn froze.

Nathaniel didn’t notice her tension, mistaking it for shyness. His fingers traced the curve of her belly. "Hm. A little softer, maybe."

Then his hand slid to her waist. "But your waist is still slim. Did you overeat tonight?"

Evelyn’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.

Nathaniel caught her gaze in the mirror. "Why so quiet?"