Chapter 68

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, painting the marble floors in warm hues. I stretched beneath the silk sheets, my fingers brushing against the empty space beside me. Nathaniel had already left for work—again.

A sigh escaped my lips as I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair. The bed felt too big without him. Too cold.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gabrielle, my assistant:

"Evelyn, the client from Summit Realty wants to move the meeting to 2 PM. Also, Gregory called—he needs the revised blueprints by noon."

I groaned. Another day of juggling deadlines and demands.

Dragging myself out of bed, I padded to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection staring back at me looked tired. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, remnants of another sleepless night.

Nathaniel had been distant lately. Ever since Isabella resurfaced, his late nights at the office had become more frequent. Excuses piled up like unread emails.

I dressed quickly, opting for a tailored navy pantsuit—armor for the battles ahead.

The penthouse was eerily quiet as I made my way to the kitchen. Alfred, our butler, had already prepared breakfast: fresh fruit, avocado toast, and a steaming cup of Earl Grey.

"Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he greeted with a polite nod.

"Morning, Alfred," I murmured, picking at the toast. My appetite was nonexistent.

The elevator dinged, and my heart leapt—only to sink when Samuel, Nathaniel’s secretary, stepped out instead.

"Mrs. Martin," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Mr. Martin asked me to inform you he’ll be in meetings all day. He won’t be able to join you for dinner."

I forced a smile. "Of course. Thank you, Samuel."

As he left, my grip tightened around the teacup.

Isabella was back in town. And suddenly, my husband had no time for me.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

My phone buzzed again—this time, a notification from a gossip column. A blurry photo of Nathaniel and Isabella at some high-end restaurant last night. The headline screamed: "Reunited? Martin Heir Spotted with Ex-Lover!"

The teacup slipped from my fingers, shattering on the marble floor.

Alfred rushed over. "Mrs. Martin, are you—"

"I'm fine," I lied, stepping around the broken porcelain.

But I wasn’t fine.

Because if Nathaniel was lying to me about where he’d been…

What else was he hiding?

Progress came swiftly from Gregory's side.

He handed the findings to Evelyn with a smirk. "Evelyn, what's your plan? I can help."

"I don't need your help. Focus on your own tasks. I'm heading to the site soon."

"What about this?" Gregory frowned, concern etching his features.

"No time to deal with it. Let it go for now."

Evelyn brushed it off, feigning ignorance as she left for the construction site. The day was packed—walking the grounds, revising blueprints, exhausting but invigorating. It kept her fit, and she told herself it was good for the baby.

At lunch, she dined with Daniel and the team. Familiar faces meant relaxed conversation.

Midway, she excused herself to the restroom.

On her way back, a figure blocked her path.

Dominic Lynch.

Hands in his pockets, he smirked. "Ms. Mitchell, what a coincidence. Care to join me for lunch?"

Evelyn remained composed. "Mr. Lynch, we're strangers. There's no need."

"Evelyn Mitchell," he leaned in, voice low, "don't push your luck. I have ways to make you regret it."

"Are you threatening me with illegal actions?"

Dominic fell silent, and Evelyn slipped past him.

The encounter left her uneasy.

Meanwhile, Samuel reported to Nathaniel.

"Sir, Dominic is dangerous. Given Mrs. Martin's beauty, wouldn't he—"

Nathaniel's gaze sharpened. "You think my wife is beautiful?"

Samuel hesitated. "I meant—would he harm her?"

"Keep an eye on her. Report anything unusual."

"Yes, sir."

Samuel retreated, relieved.

Alone, Nathaniel reclined in his chair, Samuel's words echoing. "Mrs. Martin's beauty."

He knew it well—the allure in her eyes, the way they unsettled him.

This woman affected him too much.

That evening, Evelyn left the site for Pineview Villa.

Her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Evelyn? It's Isabella Davis."

"Isabella?"

First phone call.

Isabella cut to the chase. "Let's reconcile."

Evelyn laughed. "Are you serious?"

"I've reflected. Feelings can't be forced. If you and Nathaniel are truly in love, I'll step aside. Let's meet and talk."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "You want to meet?"

"Is that okay?"

Evelyn agreed—but not at a café. A hotel.

Isabella claimed she was filming nearby and didn’t want to cause a scene.

Evelyn played along.

In the hotel room, Isabella poured water. "Sorry for making you come all this way."

Evelyn didn’t sit. "What do you want?"

"If you don’t love Nathaniel, let him go."

"Ms. Davis, we’re married. He doesn’t want a divorce. Don’t you know that?"

"Lies!" Isabella snapped. "You’re clinging to him for money. Name your price."

Evelyn smirked. "So this ‘meal’ is a bribe?"

"Be smart, or you’ll regret it."

Isabella’s mask slipped.

"Ah. The real purpose surfaces."

Isabella didn’t deny it.

Evelyn waited, watching.

"What will it take for you to leave him?"

Evelyn had no obligation to answer.

As she left, Isabella sneered, "Let’s see who laughs last."

At the elevator, a hand yanked her into a dark room.

Light flicked on.

Dominic.

She jerked free. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you." He locked the door, advancing. "I’ve made my interest clear. Since you play hard to get, I’ll take what I want."

"Isabella put you up to this?"

His hesitation confirmed it.

He smirked, breath hot on her face. "Play with me tonight, or face the tabloids tomorrow. Your choice."

Evelyn tilted her head away. The light caught her flawless skin, her cold gaze oddly mesmerizing.

"Refusing means scandal?"

Dominic’s eyes darkened, his breathing ragged. "Don’t play innocent. You’ll enjoy this."

He lunged, pinning her to the couch, fumbling with his shirt.

Evelyn stayed calm. "Dominic, if it’s a game you want, I can make it... unforgettable."