Chapter 139

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, illuminating the blueprints spread across her desk. Her fingers traced the intricate lines of the latest project—a luxury resort in the Maldives. The design was nearly perfect, but something nagged at her.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Gabrielle, her assistant, peeked in. "Mr. Wilson is here to see you."

Evelyn straightened. "Send him in."

Gregory Wilson strode in, his usual confident demeanor slightly off. He dropped into the chair opposite her, running a hand through his hair. "We have a problem."

Her stomach tightened. "What is it?"

"The Maldives project—Summit Realty just pulled their funding."

Evelyn's breath hitched. "What? Why?"

Gregory exhaled sharply. "Sebastian Wilson claims our designs don’t align with their vision. He wants a complete overhaul."

Her fingers curled into fists. "That’s impossible. We’ve already revised it twice."

Gregory’s gaze darkened. "I think this is personal. He’s still bitter about losing the last bid to Nathaniel."

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. Nathaniel. Just the mention of his name sent a jolt through her. Their last argument still hung between them, unresolved.

She forced herself to focus. "We’ll handle this. Set up a meeting with Sebastian. I’ll make him see reason."

Gregory hesitated. "There’s more. Isabella Davis is back in town."

Evelyn froze. Isabella—Nathaniel’s ex, the woman who had once shattered his heart.

A cold dread settled in her chest. "Why now?"

Gregory shrugged. "Rumor has it she’s here to reclaim what she lost."

Evelyn’s phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel: We need to talk.

Her fingers trembled as she typed a reply. About what?

The response came instantly. Isabella.

The air left her lungs.

Gregory studied her. "You okay?"

She forced a smile. "Fine. Just another day in paradise."

But as he left, Evelyn stared at the blueprints, her vision blurring.

Everything was unraveling.

And she wasn’t sure she could stop it.

Evelyn held the document firmly in her grasp, tucking it into the pocket of her blazer before retrieving her notebook and exiting the bedroom. She placed it carefully into her work bag by the front door.

Her expression remained unreadable, but the ice in her gaze was unmistakable.

She waited silently for Nathaniel to wake. When he finally emerged, they sat across from each other at the breakfast table, the air thick with tension.

Nathaniel studied her impassively as he took a sip of coffee. "You're up early. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I have work," Evelyn replied curtly.

"Take another day off. You look exhausted," he suggested, his tone edged with something unreadable.

"Don't you have meetings?" she countered instead of answering.

Nathaniel's brow twitched. "Samuel is picking me up later. I have a lunch appointment."

"Good." Evelyn finished her tea, dabbing her lips with a napkin before meeting his eyes. "I'll pack your things. You can take them with you when you leave."

Nathaniel's grip on his coffee cup tightened, his expression darkening instantly. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Your fever's gone. There's no reason for you to stay here any longer. Pineview Villa is more comfortable for you," she said, her voice steady.

"So you're throwing me out?" His voice was sharp, dangerous.

"If that's how you want to see it."

No sugarcoating. No softening the blow.

Nathaniel's lips curled into a cold smirk. "Evelyn, you're unbelievable. Is this because I didn't fuck you well enough last night?"

Her fingers clenched around her napkin, but she refused to let him rattle her. Keeping her voice even, she replied, "That's not it."

"Better not be, or I'll make sure you regret saying that," he threatened, pushing back from the table.

Evelyn stood as well. "Nathaniel, just go back to Pineview. We both need space."

"Fine. I'll leave. But you're coming with me," he declared.

"No."

His jaw tightened. "Evelyn, you asked for time. I gave you days. But this separation bullshit ends now. Either you move back in with me, or we buy this damn apartment and live here together."

She exhaled sharply, frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. "Nathaniel, doesn't this feel wrong to you?"

His eyes flashed. "So the last two days meant nothing to you? Was all of that just an act?"

She didn’t answer.

"Answer me!" His voice was a whip-crack command.

Evelyn pressed her lips together, her resolve wavering—but when she looked up, her gaze was steel. "Yes. It feels wrong. So please, just go."

Nathaniel leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "Say that again, Evelyn. I dare you."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled document she'd found in the drawer. She tossed it onto the table between them.

"I'll say it as many times as I have to. Because I don't believe you're staying here to fix our marriage. You're just playing games with me."

Nathaniel's eyes flicked to the paper, a shadow of something—guilt?—passing over his face before his mask slipped back into place.

"You want me gone because of this?" His voice was flat.

"Isn't this enough? Or do you think it's nothing?" Evelyn shot back.