Chapter 11

The grand foyer of Sterling Manor was bathed in golden light as Patricia Winslow stood waiting for their arrival. The seasoned housekeeper took Nathan Sterling's coat with practiced ease, then froze when she spotted Isabella Delaney trailing behind him.

"Ms. Delaney," Patricia recovered quickly, "your guest suite is ready on the second floor."

Evelyn paused mid-step, her designer heels clicking against the marble. "Excuse me? I assumed I'd be staying in Nathan's wing." Her voice carried the unspoken implication - by inviting her into his home, Nathan had tacitly agreed to their impending marriage.

Nathan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Patricia shifted uncomfortably. Mrs. Blackwell had been adamant about removing all traces of Evelyn Carter from the master suite. The housekeeper couldn't meet Isabella's expectant gaze.

"I have work," Nathan said curtly, dismissing them both with a glance that brooked no argument.

Isabella's perfectly sculpted brows drew together. "But darling-"

Patricia smoothly intercepted, "This way please, Ms. Delaney." The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off Isabella's view of Nathan's retreating form.

Upstairs in his study, Nathan stood under a scalding shower, trying to wash away the day's tension. Wrapped in a silk robe, he stared at financial reports without seeing them.

At this hour, Evelyn would usually appear with chamomile tea - never coffee, she knew it kept him awake. She'd leave it on his desk with that quiet smile before retreating to their... no, his bedroom.

Most nights he'd work until dawn. The rare times he joined her, he'd taken the couch without discussion. Yet every evening without fail, the tea would appear.

Tonight, his desk remained empty.

The absence gnawed at him.

His phone shattered the silence. Simon's name flashed on the screen.

"Mr. Sterling," his assistant's voice was tense, "Darai Medical Expo just informed us we've been removed from their participant list. They're citing insufficient sponsorship funds."

Nathan's grip tightened on the phone. Evelyn had handled this account personally until her abrupt departure. "Explain. We donated nearly three hundred million last year."

"I don't understand either, sir. I tried contacting Ms. Carter, but her number's been disconnected..." Simon trailed off, the silence heavy with implication.

Nathan remembered Evelyn standing in his office, stripping off her company badge with shaking hands. The way she'd held herself together despite the humiliation.

An unfamiliar tightness gripped his chest.

Evelyn had once told him about growing up in that tiny Appalachian town, working three jobs to put herself through design school. How she'd barely scraped together enough to open a boutique before their marriage, only to close it at his family's insistence.

For years, she'd existed on the allowance he'd provided. No credit cards in her name, no property.

Where would a woman with nothing go?

"Two tasks," Nathan's voice was steel. "First, send someone to West Virginia." He still remembered the address from her emergency contacts. "Second, arrange a meeting with Darai's chairman."

He ended the call and hurled his phone onto the leather couch. The study's windows reflected a man he barely recognized - jaw clenched, eyes dark with something dangerously close to regret.