Chapter 14

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her drafting table. She rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the blueprints in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to last night's argument with Nathaniel.

"You're always putting work before us," he had said, his voice tight with frustration.

Evelyn exhaled sharply, pushing the memory aside. She couldn't afford distractions—not with the Summit Realty project deadline looming.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Evelyn?" Gabrielle, her assistant, peeked in. "Mr. Wilson is here to see you."

Gregory strode in moments later, his usual confident demeanor slightly off. He dropped a thick folder onto her desk.

"We have a problem."

Evelyn flipped it open. Inside were photos of the construction site—materials misplaced, half-finished walls, workers standing idle.

"What happened?"

"Sebastian Wilson happened," Gregory muttered. "He's been pressuring the contractors to cut corners. If we don't intervene, this project will collapse before we even break ground."

Evelyn's grip tightened on the papers. Summit Realty was her firm's biggest contract yet. Failure wasn't an option.

"I'll handle it."

Gregory hesitated. "You sure? Sebastian isn't exactly... reasonable."

She met his gaze. "Neither am I."

Nathaniel stared at his phone screen, thumb hovering over Evelyn's contact. He should call her. Apologize. But pride held him back.

"Mr. Martin?" Samuel, his secretary, entered the study. "Your grandfather requests your presence in the garden."

Nathaniel frowned. Edward rarely summoned him so formally.

He found the old man seated beneath the willow tree, a chessboard between them.

"Sit," Edward commanded.

Nathaniel obeyed.

"You're distracted," Edward observed, moving a pawn. "Your wife?"

Nathaniel's jaw clenched. "It's nothing."

Edward chuckled. "Love is never nothing, boy." He leaned forward. "Tell me, what's more important—your ego or your marriage?"

The question struck deeper than Nathaniel expected.

Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. A news alert flashed:

Breaking: Summit Realty Project Under Scrutiny—Construction Delays Spark Investor Concerns.

Nathaniel's blood ran cold. Evelyn was in trouble.

And suddenly, the answer to his grandfather's question was crystal clear.

Evelyn murmured, "Perhaps. We should be cautious."

"Alright, I'll look into it." Gregory seemed hesitant.

But Evelyn didn't catch his hesitation, assuming he was just exhausted. She urged him to rest early and ended their conversation.

After shutting down her laptop, she grabbed her phone. The clock read past ten—Nathaniel likely wouldn't return tonight.

Then his warning flashed through her mind. He expects me to stay away from men before the divorce, but what about him? Does he follow his own rules?

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she dialed Nathaniel.

The call connected almost instantly—but instead of his voice, a soft, feminine tone answered. "Evelyn? It's Isabella. What do you need?"

Evelyn stiffened. Of course. Nathaniel trusts her enough to let her handle his phone.

Her grip tightened. "Put Nathaniel on," she demanded coldly.

Isabella sighed. "I'm sorry, he can't come to the phone right now. Maybe try again later?"

"I'll wait."

"Evelyn, I'm not refusing you. Nathaniel is—"

"Just tell him to pick up," Evelyn snapped.

Isabella glanced at the closed hospital room door—Nathaniel had stepped out to discuss her discharge with the doctor. A sly smile curled her lips as she lied, "He's in the shower. I don’t know when he’ll be done, so..."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled around the phone.

Wake up. They’re already this close. He demands distance from me while clinging to her. How hypocritical.

Her voice turned icy. "Fine. I won’t disturb you."

She hung up before Isabella could respond, afraid her composure would shatter if she waited another second.

The truth was clear now. Nathaniel’s rules weren’t about protecting her reputation—only his own. He never cared if she became the subject of gossip.

A bitter laugh escaped her. If I were Isabella, he’d never treat me like this, would he?

But there were no what-ifs.

In the hospital room, Isabella stared at Nathaniel’s phone, then swiftly deleted the call log and placed it back.

The door creaked open. Nathaniel walked in, frowning at her uneasy expression. "Are you feeling worse?"

She shook her head, forcing a bright smile. "What did the doctor say?"

"Rest well, and you can leave in two days. I’ll arrange a place for you."

"Perfect. I’ll listen to you."

He nodded absently, checking his phone. No notifications.

"It’s late. Get some sleep," he said, tucking the device away. "I’ll visit tomorrow."

Isabella clutched his sleeve, her eyes glistening. "Nathaniel… I’m scared to stay alone. Can’t you—"

"No." His voice was firm. "I’m still married. Rumors won’t do you any favors. The caretaker will arrive soon. Behave."

Her lip quivered. "You will divorce her, right? I just… I feel so insecure. What if you fall for her again? She’s—"

"My grandfather needs convincing. That’s all." His tone brooked no argument. "Focus on recovering."

"Then stay tonight," she pleaded.

Nathaniel’s expression remained unreadable. "I can’t."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Isabella seething in the silence.