Chapter 155

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady and calm. She studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint scar near his temple from a childhood accident. Even in sleep, he exuded an air of quiet authority.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory.

"Evelyn, we need to talk. The Summit Realty deal is falling apart. Sebastian is making unreasonable demands."

She frowned. The Summit Realty project was supposed to be their biggest breakthrough yet. If it collapsed now, their firm’s reputation would take a hit.

Nathaniel’s arm tightened around her waist as he murmured, "What’s wrong?"

She hesitated. "Work trouble. Gregory says Sebastian is being difficult."

Nathaniel’s eyes snapped open, alert. "Sebastian Wilson?"

Evelyn nodded. "He’s pushing for last-minute changes. Again."

Nathaniel sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I’ll handle it."

She placed a hand on his arm. "No. This is my project. I need to deal with it."

His gaze softened. "You don’t have to do everything alone, Evelyn."

She smiled faintly. "I know. But I want to."

Downstairs, Alfred had already prepared breakfast—fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee. Evelyn took a sip, savoring the rich flavor.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Isabella.

"We need to talk. It’s urgent."

Evelyn’s grip on her cup tightened. Isabella had been nothing but trouble since she reappeared in Nathaniel’s life.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Madam, your car is ready."

She set her cup down. "Thank you, Alfred."

As she stepped outside, the crisp morning air filled her lungs. The city was waking up, the streets bustling with life.

But beneath the surface, tension simmered.

Sebastian’s demands. Isabella’s sudden urgency.

Something was coming.

And Evelyn had a feeling she wouldn’t like it.

Nathaniel's jaw was clenched tight, his piercing gaze radiating icy detachment.

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he narrowed his eyes. "Leave. Now. Before I lose my patience with you."

Evelyn didn’t budge.

Her tone remained steady. "If you won’t reconsider our partnership, then at least sign the divorce papers I sent. Let me take them and go."

"Nathaniel, are you deliberately trying to provoke me?" His voice was rough with barely contained fury.

"You said you never wanted to see me again," she countered coolly. "Sign the papers, and I’ll vanish from your life. Isn’t that what you want?"

"Evelyn!" His voice cracked like a whip, thick with suppressed rage. Just her name, yet it carried the weight of a storm.

She met his glare impassively. "We’re getting divorced. I’m not asking for anything—just my freedom. And yet, you’re still not satisfied?"

"Get. Out." He pointed sharply at the door, his command leaving no room for argument.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle before Evelyn finally pressed her lips together. She knew pushing further would only ignite his temper. With one last lingering look, she turned and walked out.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, a deafening crash erupted from inside—Nathaniel had swept everything off his desk in a fit of rage.

He yanked at his tie, his handsome face twisted in fury. The mere thought of Evelyn demanding his signature on those papers made his blood boil.

When Samuel cautiously stepped in and saw the wreckage, he hesitated. "Mr. Martin, Ms. Davis is here to see you. Should I—"

Nathaniel’s glacial stare cut him off mid-sentence, sending a chill down Samuel’s spine.

Swallowing hard, Samuel retreated. He approached Isabella, who waited outside, and murmured, "Ms. Davis, Mr. Martin is... unavailable at the moment. Would you like to reschedule?"

Isabella’s lips thinned as her gaze flickered toward Evelyn, who stood by the elevator, waiting. They hadn’t exchanged words earlier, but seeing Nathaniel claim to be "busy" now? She knew better.

She smoothed her expression. "If Nathaniel is occupied, I’ll come back another time. Let me know when he’s free."

Samuel nodded. "Of course, Ms. Davis."

Before leaving, Isabella cast a long, thoughtful glance at Nathaniel’s closed office door. Then, as she reached the elevator, she noticed Evelyn still standing there—ignoring her completely.

A sly smile curved Isabella’s lips. She lowered her voice to a taunting whisper. "Evelyn, did you upset Nathaniel? Or are you rushing this divorce because you’ve already moved on?"

Silence.

Undeterred, Isabella pressed on. "If you’ve found someone else, just admit it. Don’t let Nathaniel take the blame from his grandfather while you walk away scot-free."

Evelyn finally turned, her expression frosty. "Are you finished?"