Chapter 231

The moment Evelyn stepped into the grand hall of the Martin estate, she felt the weight of countless eyes on her. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made her fingers curl into fists at her sides. She had expected this—the whispers, the judgmental glances—but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Isabella standing beside Nathaniel, her hand resting possessively on his arm.

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

Nathaniel’s expression was unreadable, his dark eyes flickering with something she couldn’t decipher. Was it guilt? Indifference? She couldn’t tell.

"Evelyn," he said, his voice low and steady.

She forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "Nathaniel. Isabella."

Isabella’s lips curved into a smirk, her fingers tightening around Nathaniel’s sleeve. "It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I was just telling Nathaniel how much I missed our little… reunions."

Evelyn’s nails dug into her palms. She wouldn’t let Isabella get under her skin. Not here. Not now.

Before she could respond, Gregory appeared at her side, his presence a welcome distraction. "Evelyn, Edward wants to discuss the new project with you. He’s waiting in the study."

She nodded, grateful for the escape. "Excuse me," she murmured, stepping away before Nathaniel could say another word.

As she walked down the corridor, the muffled sound of laughter followed her. Isabella’s laughter.

Evelyn clenched her jaw.

She wouldn’t let them break her. Not again.

Nathaniel watched Evelyn disappear around the corner, his chest tightening. He hadn’t missed the way her shoulders had stiffened at Isabella’s words, the way her smile hadn’t reached her eyes.

He hated this. Hated the way Isabella kept inserting herself into his life, stirring up old wounds.

"Nathaniel," Isabella purred, leaning closer. "You’re not even listening to me."

He stepped back, putting distance between them. "Isabella, we’ve talked about this. There’s nothing left between us."

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flash of anger. "You don’t mean that."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I do."

Before she could argue, Samuel approached, his expression grim. "Sir, Richard wants to see you immediately. It’s urgent."

Nathaniel nodded, relieved for the interruption. "Excuse me."

As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the image of Evelyn’s wounded expression.

He needed to fix this. Before it was too late.

Evelyn stood by the window in Edward’s study, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The view of the gardens below was beautiful, but she barely registered it.

"Evelyn," Edward said gently, "I know this isn’t easy for you."

She turned to face him, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "I’m fine."

He studied her for a long moment before sighing. "You don’t have to pretend with me."

Evelyn’s composure cracked. "What do you want me to say, Edward? That it doesn’t hurt seeing her with him? That I’m not—" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

Edward’s expression softened. "You still love him."

It wasn’t a question.

Evelyn didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

The truth was written all over her face.

Nathaniel found her in the garden an hour later, standing beneath the old oak tree where they’d shared so many moments.

"Evelyn," he called softly.

She didn’t turn around. "Go back to Isabella, Nathaniel. She’s waiting for you."

He stepped closer. "I don’t want to be with her."

"Then why is she here?"

He hesitated. "It’s complicated."

Evelyn finally turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "No, it’s not. You either choose her or you choose me. But you can’t have us both."

Nathaniel reached for her, but she stepped back.

"Don’t," she whispered.

His hand fell to his side. "Evelyn, please—"

"Just go."

The finality in her voice shattered him.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

"I choose you," he murmured against her hair. "I’ve always chosen you."

Evelyn stiffened, then slowly relaxed, her hands gripping his shirt.

For the first time in weeks, she let herself hope.

Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

Evelyn hesitated for a brief moment before replying, confusion lacing her voice, "I told you, Charlotte is my best friend."

"So she means more to you than anyone else?" Nathaniel challenged, his tone sharp.

"I don’t understand what you’re implying."

"Don’t forget, Evelyn," he reminded coldly, "we’re still married." The words made her frown.

She pressed further. "Nathaniel, are you saying I haven’t been a proper wife to you?"

Silence.

His lack of response was answer enough.

A bitter smile curved her lips. "Even if I tried to stop you from seeing other women, would you listen? No. So why should I bother doing something that only irritates you?"

"So you’d rather turn a blind eye?" His voice dropped dangerously. "If I slept with someone else, you’d just accept it? What if I asked you to personally hand me condoms—would you do that too?"

Each word was a needle, pricking at her heart.

Evelyn said nothing. Nathaniel tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Answer me. Is this really how you feel?"

"If that’s what you believe, then yes."

Her chin ached under his crushing hold, but she refused to look away.

Nathaniel’s lips curled into a humorless smirk. "So it’s up to me, is it? Then maybe you shouldn’t see Charlotte anymore. How does that sound?"

"Nathaniel, this is about us," she snapped, her voice rising. "Why bring Charlotte into it?"

"Why?" He scoffed. "Because I hate your attitude. If you want Charlotte released sooner, you’d better start behaving."

With that, he released her, but the cold fury in his eyes remained. Without another word, he turned and walked out.

Evelyn stood frozen, the weight of his threat settling over her. After a long moment, she mechanically gathered her design sketches and left the room.

He was blackmailing her. She knew it. The problem was, she had no idea what would satisfy him.

Outside the Scarlett, she slid into her car, the suffocating weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.

How many times had they parted like this? She’d lost count. Every argument left her drained—physically, emotionally.

She almost wished Nathaniel would just say it outright: "Evelyn, I won’t help you find Charlotte, and I definitely won’t speak to Thomas on your behalf. Give up."

At least then, she wouldn’t keep hoping.

But now, she was trapped in this cycle—always wondering if the next concession would finally make him relent.

Evelyn let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. Then, she started the car and drove back to her office.

Sebastian Wilson from Summit Realty arrived just as she did, his expression stormy.

"Evelyn," he seethed, "care to explain why you still have that project while we’ve been cut out?"

"I didn’t make that decision," she replied flatly. "Nathaniel did."