Chapter 97

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, she felt the weight of countless eyes on her. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her fingers curl instinctively into her palms. She had known this confrontation was inevitable, yet nothing could have prepared her for the storm brewing in Nathaniel’s darkened gaze.

"Evelyn," Nathaniel’s voice was low, controlled, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable. "We need to talk."

She lifted her chin, refusing to let her nerves show. "About what, Nathaniel? The fact that you’ve been keeping secrets from me? Or the sudden reappearance of Isabella in our lives?"

His jaw tightened at the mention of his ex-lover’s name. "It’s not what you think."

"Isn’t it?" Evelyn let out a bitter laugh. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like history is repeating itself."

The silence that followed was suffocating. The opulent chandeliers above cast flickering shadows across the marble floor, mirroring the turmoil inside her. She had trusted him—had believed in the love they’d built—but now, doubt gnawed at her like a relentless beast.

Before Nathaniel could respond, the sharp click of heels echoed through the hall. Isabella strode in, her crimson dress a stark contrast to the muted tones of the room. Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she glanced between them.

"Am I interrupting something?" she purred.

Evelyn’s pulse spiked. She had seen that look before—the same one Isabella had worn years ago when she’d effortlessly torn them apart.

Nathaniel’s expression hardened. "Isabella, this isn’t the time."

"Oh, but I think it is," Isabella countered, her gaze locking onto Evelyn’s. "After all, secrets have a way of coming out, don’t they?"

Evelyn’s breath hitched. What does she know?

The tension in the room was a live wire, ready to snap. And as Nathaniel stepped forward, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her, Evelyn realized one thing with chilling certainty:

This wasn’t just about the past.

"Mr. Martin, this situation is escalating. It's no longer just about the rumors between Mr. Whitman and Mrs. Martin. Someone has posted allegations that Mrs. Martin was unfaithful during their relationship. Several accounts are backing these claims with supposed evidence."

Evelyn heard Nathaniel's secretary, Samuel, deliver the report.

She turned to Nathaniel, her expression unreadable. Silence stretched between them like a taut wire.

Part of her wanted to explain—to insist she had never betrayed him. But the words died before they could form.

Distrust had always been their shadow. If he wouldn’t believe her now, no amount of pleading would change that.

Her silence made Nathaniel’s brow furrow. His voice was softer than she expected when he finally spoke. "Don’t you have anything to say?"

She met his gaze. "Would you believe me if I did?"

Their eyes locked, stubbornness mirrored in both.

The scandal had erupted too suddenly, spreading like wildfire. Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.

Nathaniel didn’t linger in bed. He washed up quickly and disappeared into his study, the door shutting firmly behind him.

Evelyn stayed behind, her mood heavy.

The Martin family called—Edward, Victoria, and Richard—all voicing their support. "Evelyn, we stand with you," Edward said firmly. "We know you. These accusations are baseless."

Their faith warmed her, but it couldn’t lift the weight in her chest.

Her gaze drifted to the closed study door. A dull ache settled in her ribs.

Truthfully, public opinion didn’t frighten her. She knew her innocence. What others thought had never mattered.

She checked the time and called Isaac.

He was notorious for turning off his phone at night, so it took until morning to reach him.

The call connected quickly. She summarized the situation, then added, "There are probably reporters swarming your hotel. Stay inside today."

Isaac, still groggy, processed her words before responding. "What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Exactly. This isn’t something a simple clarification will fix. Let’s wait and see what else unfolds."

She wanted to uncover what—or who—was lurking in the shadows.

Though Isaac disagreed, he assumed it was Nathaniel’s strategy and reluctantly agreed.

Evelyn scrolled through Twitter and forums. The comments were brutal—a flood of condemnation and vitriol. The world had already convicted her.

This was the cruelty of the internet.

She exhaled sharply, the bitterness lingering.

After washing up, she forced down a light breakfast before carrying Nathaniel’s upstairs.

She hesitated outside the study, her hand hovering over the knob.

Then his voice cut through the door. "I don’t care if she agrees. Proceed as planned. It’s time the public knew."

His words sent a jolt through her.

What was he revealing?

Who was "she"?

Was it her?

Her lips pressed into a thin line. The courage to enter evaporated.

She retreated downstairs, feigning calm as she sank onto the living room sofa, lost in thought.

Her phone buzzed incessantly with unknown numbers. She knew what they wanted. With a sigh, she powered it off.

The morning passed in stifling silence, the house divided.

Meanwhile, Twitter exploded.

The Martin Group’s official account pinned a post at the top of its feed: [No more hiding. Mr. and Mrs. Martin—happiness forever.]

Below it was a photo.

A stunning woman beside a devastatingly handsome man.

The post went viral instantly, shredding the rumors to pieces.

A second tweet followed: [The Martin Group’s legal team will pursue all accounts spreading defamatory rumors. We urge everyone to cease speculation. Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Martin.]

Reactions flooded in:

[Wait—THAT’S Mrs. Martin?!]

[What kind of plot twist is this?!]

[So she’s not some cheating gold-digger? She’s his WIFE?]

[But what about Isabella? She’s been hinting she’s with Nathaniel this whole time!]

[Isabella’s got some explaining to do…]

The official confirmation left no room for doubt.

Five minutes before the Martin Group’s post, Isaac received a call.

Samuel’s polite voice came through. "Mr. Whitman, regarding the rumors—Mr. Martin has a request. Would you be willing to assist?"

Isaac, already briefed by Evelyn, wasn’t bothered. "Go on."

"Mr. Martin intends to publicly confirm his marital status. He hopes you’ll help clarify your relationship with Evelyn."

A slow smile curved Isaac’s lips. "He’s announcing their marriage?"

"Yes."

"Fine. For Evelyn’s sake, I’ll cooperate."

Within minutes, Isaac posted on his long-dormant Twitter:

[Evelyn and I met in high school. My father was her teacher. She lived with us until graduation. We’ve remained close since—like family. To my fans: don’t believe the lies. Thank you.]

The message was clear.

His followers rushed to apologize to Evelyn, spawning the hashtag #SorryEvelyn.

Some questioned why she’d lived with Isaac’s family if she was a Mitchell, but those comments drowned in the tide of support.

Many declared her life goals: a husband like Nathaniel and a friend like Isaac.

The crisis had dissolved.

But Evelyn didn’t know yet.

Nathaniel descended the stairs, finding her still on the sofa, staring blankly ahead.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She blinked, returning to the present. "Thinking."

His frown softened, the morning light catching the warmth in his eyes. "Have you checked Twitter today?"