Chapter 118

The moment Nathaniel stepped into the room, Evelyn felt the air shift. His presence was magnetic, commanding attention without a single word. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing for this meeting, yet now, under his piercing gaze, her carefully rehearsed speech evaporated.

"You wanted to discuss the project?" Nathaniel’s voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it—something unreadable.

Evelyn straightened her shoulders. "Yes. The timeline Summit Realty proposed is unrealistic. We need at least another month to ensure structural integrity."

Nathaniel’s expression remained impassive, but his fingers tapped lightly against the polished mahogany desk. "Sebastian won’t like that."

"I don’t care what Sebastian likes," Evelyn countered, her voice steady. "This isn’t about pleasing him—it’s about safety."

A flicker of something—approval? amusement?—passed through Nathaniel’s eyes. "You’re not afraid to push back, are you?"

Evelyn met his gaze squarely. "Not when it matters."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Then, unexpectedly, Nathaniel leaned forward. "Fine. I’ll handle Sebastian. But there’s a condition."

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. "What condition?"

"You oversee the adjustments personally. No delegating."

She hesitated. That meant more time working directly with him—more late nights, more meetings where his presence alone threatened to unravel her composure. But she couldn’t refuse. Not when the project was at stake.

"Deal," she said.

Nathaniel’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Good."

As Evelyn turned to leave, his voice stopped her at the door. "Oh, and Evelyn?"

She glanced back.

"Wear something comfortable tomorrow. We’re visiting the site at dawn."

Her breath caught. A site visit? Just the two of them?

Before she could respond, Nathaniel’s phone rang, and he dismissed her with a casual wave. But as she stepped into the hallway, Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just business.

Something had shifted between them.

And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what came next.

The next day, Evelyn couldn't reach Nathaniel at all. With every passing hour, the unsettling feeling in her chest grew heavier, twisting into something cold and unfamiliar.

By 10 p.m., Nathaniel lounged in the dimly lit private room of the club, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. Thomas had just finished his obligations and hurried over to update him on Evelyn’s situation.

"Mr. Martin," Thomas began, his voice cautious, "Evelyn refused to let me accompany her to the therapist. She insisted on having you there. She probably tried calling you earlier."

Nathaniel dismissed him with a flick of his wrist.

Once the door clicked shut behind Thomas, Sebastian—who had been watching with half-lidded amusement—leaned forward. "What’s really going on between you and Evelyn? Why is this still so messy?"

Silence.

Sebastian exhaled a slow stream of smoke before pressing further. "Nathaniel, what’s your plan? Even if Isabella went for a check-up today, who’s to say she won’t be pregnant next month? Would you still keep Evelyn around if that happened?"

A cold laugh escaped Nathaniel’s lips. "Pregnant?" His voice was dangerously calm. "Do you know what she told me today? She said I could try to get her pregnant, but she’d find a way to rid herself of it. If she’s capable of saying that, what else is she capable of?"

Sebastian’s brows shot up. If Theodore and Dominic were here, they’d choke on their drinks.

Nathaniel sounded like a man scorned.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Sebastian lit another one, smirking. "So now you want a child, and she doesn’t?"

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened, his gaze distant.

Sebastian tilted his head. "Then what’s the deal between you two? She used to be so devoted, so tender with you. Why does it feel like she’s changed since you mentioned divorce?"

A scoff. "She brought up divorce first—claimed it was for both our sakes. Everything before was just an act."

Sebastian fell quiet, considering.

After a moment, he spoke carefully. "Nathaniel, have you ever considered that maybe Evelyn was genuinely gentle with you before? That she’s only become this cold and rational because of your unresolved ties with Isabella? That maybe… she’s hurt?"

"Hurt?" Nathaniel’s laugh was sharp.

He leaned forward, eyes glinting with something dark. "Do you really think she’s the type to get hurt? I’d bet she’s more eager than anyone to end this marriage."

Sebastian shook his head. "There’s a reason. You’ve been married for a year, and she never mentioned divorce before. It’s only because you started it, and Isabella’s always hovering. Put yourself in her shoes—how would you feel? She’s probably just done."

"No," Nathaniel cut in, his voice icy. "That’s not it."

His expression hardened as he delivered the final blow.

"There’s someone else in her heart."

Sebastian nearly dropped his drink. "Evelyn is in love with someone else?"

What kind of twisted marriage is this?

Are they both chasing other people?