Chapter 135

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her drafting table. She tapped her pencil absently against the blueprint spread before her, her mind elsewhere. The soft hum of the city outside barely registered as she replayed last night's conversation with Nathaniel for what felt like the hundredth time.

"We need to talk," he had said, his voice unreadable.

Those four words had haunted her ever since.

A sharp knock at the door snapped her back to the present. Gabrielle, her assistant, poked her head in, her expression hesitant. "Evelyn, Mr. Wilson is here to see you. He says it's urgent."

Evelyn straightened, smoothing a hand over her blouse. "Send him in."

Gregory strode in moments later, his usual composed demeanor frayed at the edges. He dropped a thick folder onto her desk with a thud. "We have a problem."

She flipped it open, scanning the contents quickly. Her stomach twisted. "This can't be right. The zoning permits were approved weeks ago."

"Not anymore," Gregory said grimly. "Someone filed a last-minute appeal, and the board is reconsidering. If this falls through, the entire project is delayed—indefinitely."

Evelyn's fingers tightened around the edge of the folder. "Who would do this?"

Gregory hesitated, then sighed. "I did some digging. The appeal was filed under Summit Realty."

Her breath hitched. Sebastian Wilson.

The name alone sent a chill down her spine. The man had been a thorn in her side for years, ever since their disastrous business partnership collapsed. Now, it seemed, he was making his move.

She stood abruptly, grabbing her coat. "I need to see Nathaniel."

Gregory frowned. "Is this really the time? You two have enough on your plates as it is."

She shot him a sharp look. "This is the time. If Sebastian is targeting us, Nathaniel needs to know."

Without waiting for a response, she swept out of the office, her heels clicking decisively against the polished floor.

Outside, the city buzzed with its usual relentless energy, but Evelyn barely noticed. Her thoughts raced ahead, piecing together possibilities, contingencies.

One thing was certain—Sebastian wouldn't win. Not this time.

But as she hailed a cab, a darker thought crept in.

What if this wasn't just about business?

What if it was personal?

And worse—what if Nathaniel already knew?

Evelyn arched a delicate brow, her voice light. "You're reading too much into this. I just need some air. Two days indoors with nothing to do is suffocating."

She didn’t mention the real reason—the baby needed the fresh breeze far more than she did.

But she kept that thought from Nathaniel.

His sharp gaze lingered on her face, assessing. Then, without hesitation, he said, "Then let’s go."

Evelyn turned away, pushing the door open.

To her surprise, Nathaniel followed, closing the door behind them before she could protest.

She blinked at him. "You’re coming?"

His deep voice was calm. "Isn’t that obvious?"

She pressed her lips together, swallowing the rest of her words.

The elevator descended in silence. Outside, the evening air carried a crisp chill, the kind that sharpened the senses rather than numbed them.

They walked side by side, the quiet between them comfortable yet charged.

As twilight painted the sky, they passed a brightly lit supermarket. Evelyn glanced at Nathaniel. "I need to pick something up. You can wait here if—"

"I’ll come," he interrupted smoothly, already striding ahead.

She hurried after him, catching up just as they stepped inside.

The supermarket buzzed with activity. Nathaniel’s expression tightened briefly at the crowd before smoothing back into indifference.

Evelyn grabbed a cart, her voice soft. "Just grabbing milk for tomorrow."

He nodded, falling into step beside her.

Despite his aloof demeanor—tall, striking, his presence like a blade cutting through the mundane—he drew eyes effortlessly. A group of girls nearby giggled, their whispers carrying.

"Look at him! So gorgeous. Cold, but that just makes him hotter. Do you think he’s single?"

"Go ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?"

Nathaniel’s jaw tensed.

Evelyn, oblivious, compared two cartons of milk, her ponytail swaying, loose strands framing her face. Even in simple clothes, she outshone every overly made-up girl in the store.

Before she could react, Nathaniel closed the distance behind her. His arm slid around her waist, his fingers brushing hers as he took the milk from her grasp.

"Get both if you like them," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

The cartons landed in the cart with a soft thud.

The girls gasped, cheeks flaming. "Oh my God, he’s taken! Let’s go!"

They scurried away, disappearing into the aisles.

Evelyn caught the exchange but said nothing. Instead, she retrieved one carton and returned it to the shelf.

"Just because something looks good doesn’t mean you need it," she remarked, her tone casual.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. "That’s all you have to say?"

She turned toward the exit, but his hand shot out, holding the door shut.

His voice was low, insistent. "No reaction at all? You didn’t notice what just happened?"