Chapter 113

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting delicate patterns across our bedroom floor. I stretched lazily, my fingers brushing against the cool silk sheets where Nathaniel had slept mere hours ago. The scent of his cologne still lingered faintly in the air—a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly him.

Downstairs, Alfred was already setting the breakfast table with his usual precision. "Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he greeted with a slight bow. "Mr. Martin left early for the office. He mentioned an urgent board meeting."

I nodded, reaching for the steaming cup of Earl Grey he'd prepared. The porcelain was warm against my fingertips. "Thank you, Alfred. Has Isabella called?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Alfred's expression remained impassive. "No, madam. Though Mr. Yates did ring—something about the Blue Harbor project requiring your approval by noon."

The toast suddenly tasted like sawdust. Blue Harbor. The project Nathaniel had personally assigned to me after... after everything with Isabella. My stomach twisted. Was this his way of keeping me occupied? Or was it another test?

My phone buzzed with a text from Gregory: Emergency at the firm. Client wants revisions by EOD. Can you come in?

I exhaled sharply. Between Martin Group obligations and Mitchell & Wilson's growing workload, I was being pulled in too many directions. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed nine times.

Then, another notification—this time from an unknown number. A photo loaded slowly: Nathaniel at some gala last night, his arm draped casually around Isabella's waist. Her crimson dress matched the smirk on her lips perfectly.

The caption read: Some things never change, do they, Evelyn?

The teacup shattered on the marble floor.

Alfred was at my side instantly. "Madam, are you—"

"I'm fine," I lied, stepping over the shards. My pulse roared in my ears. This wasn't just a provocation; it was warfare. And Isabella had just drawn first blood.

Upstairs, I yanked open my closet. If she wanted a fight, she'd get one. The emerald-green Valentino gown Nathaniel had bought me last month still hung in its garment bag—unworn, tags attached. Perfect for tonight's charity auction.

Let her play her games. By the time the evening ended, all of New York would see who truly belonged by Nathaniel Martin's side.

My fingers trembled as I dialed Caroline. "Cancel my afternoon meetings. We have a situation."

Somewhere across town, Isabella was probably admiring her handiwork. Little did she know—she'd just awakened the lioness.

"Stay out of it. They're adults—let them work through their own problems. Whatever happens between them is their decision," Edward stated firmly.

"Edward..."

Victoria opened her mouth to argue, but Richard cut in smoothly, "Dad's right. Evelyn and Nathaniel need to handle this themselves. Didn't you mention wanting to visit the countryside? We have some free time now. Why don't we go for a few days?"

And just like that, the Martins stepped back, leaving the couple to their turmoil.

Three days slipped by in a blur.

Evelyn buried herself in work, throwing every ounce of energy into her projects. But the moment she stepped back into her apartment, the carefully constructed mask of indifference crumbled, and the weight of her emotions pressed down on her chest like a stone.

She kept repeating the same mantra in her head: It's fine. Once I get past this, things will get better.

Easier said than done.

She pushed herself too hard, too fast—and it caught up with her.

On the fourth morning, a dull ache pulsed in her abdomen, sending a ripple of unease through her. Instinctively, she called Caroline and drove straight to the hospital.

Caroline stayed by her side through the examination. The doctor's words were measured but clear. "Nothing serious, but stress is taking its toll. You need to stay calm. The first trimester is critical, but even now, your emotional state affects the baby. You can't afford to neglect that."

Evelyn exhaled in relief.

Caroline squeezed her hand. "You'll be okay. Just focus on staying positive."

Evelyn nodded, silently vowing to keep her emotions in check—for the baby's sake.

As they walked toward the elevator, Caroline rattled off reminders. "Eat more. You're losing weight. And rest—"

"I know," Evelyn murmured, only half-listening.

She didn’t notice Thomas watching her from across the lobby.

Frowning, he muttered, "Evelyn? What’s she doing here?"

The woman beside him—his sister—glanced at her test results and shrugged. "Same as everyone else in this wing. Either a late period or a pregnancy scare. Isn’t that Nathaniel’s wife?"

"Yeah." His jaw tightened. "I need a smoke."

But instead of heading outside, he pulled out his phone and dialed. The moment Nathaniel answered, Thomas said, "I just saw Evelyn at the hospital."

"And?" Nathaniel’s voice was flat.

Thomas exhaled sharply. "She was coming out of the OB-GYN wing. What if she’s pregnant?"

Silence.

Nathaniel had always been careful—but accidents happened.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke. "Stop her from leaving. I’m on my way."

The line went dead.

Thomas shot a quick text to his sister before striding toward Evelyn.

She was sitting in the lobby, waiting for Caroline to finish up. Instead, Thomas appeared in front of her.

Evelyn’s brows knit together, but her expression remained neutral as he approached.

"Evelyn," he said, forcing a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Small world," she replied coolly.

Thomas cleared his throat. "You here alone? Nathaniel didn’t come with you?"

"I’m visiting a friend," she said, her tone leaving no room for further questions.