Chapter 125

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, her breath caught in her throat. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the marble floors, and the scent of fresh roses filled the air. But it wasn’t the opulence that unsettled her—it was the weight of the unspoken tension.

Nathaniel stood by the fireplace, his broad shoulders rigid, his expression unreadable. His fingers tightened around the crystal glass in his hand as he turned to face her.

"You came," he said, his voice low.

Evelyn forced a smile, though her pulse raced. "You asked me to."

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with everything left unsaid. The last time they had spoken, words had been sharp as knives, leaving wounds that hadn’t yet healed.

Then, footsteps echoed down the hall.

Isabella appeared, her crimson dress swaying with each graceful step. She stopped beside Nathaniel, her hand brushing his arm in a gesture that was far too familiar.

"Evelyn," she greeted, her smile polished and practiced. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

Evelyn’s fingers curled into her palms. "Neither did I."

Nathaniel’s jaw tensed, his gaze flickering between them. The air thickened with unspoken accusations, old betrayals simmering beneath the surface.

Before anyone could speak again, Alfred, the butler, entered with a tray of champagne. "Mr. Martin requests your presence in the study," he announced.

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, then set his glass down. "Excuse me."

As he walked away, Isabella lingered, her eyes glinting with something Evelyn couldn’t decipher.

"You always did have a way of complicating things," she murmured, before following Nathaniel.

Evelyn stood frozen, the words cutting deeper than she cared to admit.

Then, a hand touched her shoulder.

"Don’t let her get to you," Caroline whispered, appearing beside her. "She’s just trying to provoke you."

Evelyn swallowed hard. "I know."

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

Across the room, Edward Martin watched the exchange with sharp eyes. His presence was a silent storm, his disapproval palpable.

And somewhere in the shadows, Vanessa lurked, her phone recording every moment.

The game was far from over.

And Evelyn?

She was right in the middle of it.

"I'll be staying here until my fever breaks," Nathaniel declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Evelyn crossed her arms. "So you're not even going to ask? Just making decisions without my input now?"

The audacity of this man!

She exhaled sharply, exhaustion creeping in.

Nathaniel's voice softened, though his words remained calculated. "Evelyn, the fever hasn't subsided. Are you really going to send me back alone? What if I collapse in the middle of the night with no one around? Or do you think a severe infection isn't worth worrying about? If that's the case, I'll leave now. I know I'm disturbing your peace. I'm sure Grandfather won't blame you, even if he finds out the reason."

"Enough," Evelyn snapped, cutting him off. She couldn't take his dramatics anymore.

It's just a fever. It's not like he's dying.

Besides, Pineview Villa wasn't empty—Alfred and the staff were there.

But arguing was pointless. If he wanted to stay, fine. It was her apartment, after all.

She grabbed her phone and retreated to her room, missing the smug smirk that flickered across Nathaniel's face the moment her back was turned.

Samuel arrived later with clothes and a laptop, only to be dismissed at the door without stepping inside.

Nathaniel commandeered the living room sofa, typing away on his laptop. Evelyn didn't bother him. After changing, she headed out. "I'm going to the construction site. Don't forget your medicine."

His frown deepened. "You're leaving me here alone?"

"Would you prefer I take you back to Pineview Villa? Or should I call Samuel to babysit you?" she retorted coolly.

Nathaniel fell silent, his expression darkening as she walked away.

Evelyn didn’t understand how things had spiraled like this. I wanted space. Time for him to cool off and finally agree to the divorce. Isabella is waiting for him, after all.

Yet here he was, stubbornly planted in her apartment.

Will he leave once the fever’s gone?

She rubbed her temples, shaking off the thoughts as she drove to the site. Progress was impressive—the office building’s exterior was complete, and interior work was next.

Lost in inspections, she barely noticed the hours slipping by. It was past six-thirty when she finally wrapped up.

Daniel grinned. "Dinner?"

Evelyn checked her phone. "You go ahead. I have things to handle."

"Wouldn’t want to keep you. Mr. Martin might have my head otherwise," he joked.

Since discovering Evelyn was Nathaniel’s wife, Daniel had been extra cautious. Thankfully, she hadn’t held his earlier matchmaking attempts against him.

Evelyn grabbed takeout from Scarlett on her way back.

By the time she arrived, the apartment was dark. Only Nathaniel’s shoes by the entrance confirmed he hadn’t left.

She set the food down and pushed open the bedroom door.

Nathaniel lay sprawled across the bed, his breathing uneven.

Evelyn switched on the lamp, her stomach dropping at the sight of his flushed face.

"Nathaniel?" She touched his forehead—burning.

Not again.