Chapter 244

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the bedroom as Evelyn stirred awake. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She traced the outline of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at how peaceful he looked.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Mrs. Martin?" Alfred's voice was muffled through the door. "Mr. Edward has requested your presence in the study."

Evelyn sighed. Edward Martin, Nathaniel's grandfather, had been increasingly insistent on discussing the family's latest business venture. She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb Nathaniel, and dressed quickly in a tailored navy dress.

The study was bathed in warm light when she entered. Edward sat behind his mahogany desk, his sharp eyes assessing her as she approached.

"Good morning, Evelyn," he greeted, though his tone lacked warmth.

"Good morning, Grandfather," she replied, forcing a polite smile.

"I trust you've reviewed the proposal for the waterfront project?" He pushed a thick folder toward her.

Evelyn hesitated. "I have, but I still have concerns about the environmental impact. The wetlands—"

"Are irrelevant," Edward cut in. "Progress waits for no one, my dear. The board expects this to move forward without delay."

Her fingers tightened around the folder. "With all due respect, rushing this could have irreversible consequences. I’d like to propose alternative designs that—"

"Enough." Edward's voice was icy. "Your sentimentality is clouding your judgment. This is business, not one of your charity projects."

Evelyn's jaw clenched, but she held her tongue. Arguing further would be futile.

Just then, the door swung open, and Nathaniel strode in, his expression unreadable.

"Grandfather," he said coolly. "I believe we agreed to discuss this as a team."

Edward waved a dismissive hand. "There’s nothing to discuss. The decision is final."

Nathaniel's gaze flicked to Evelyn, noting the tension in her posture. "Then perhaps we should revisit the terms. Evelyn’s expertise is invaluable here."

Edward scoffed. "Sentiment has no place in business, Nathaniel. You of all people should know that."

The air grew thick with unspoken tension. Evelyn exhaled slowly, her mind racing. She knew Edward’s stubbornness well, but this time, she wouldn’t back down.

"Very well," she said, lifting her chin. "If the board insists on proceeding as planned, then I’ll present my concerns directly to them."

Edward’s eyes narrowed. "You’d defy me?"

"I’d protect what’s right," she countered.

Nathaniel stepped closer to her, his presence a silent show of support.

For a long moment, Edward studied them both, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod, he rose from his chair.

"Fine. Present your case. But don’t expect miracles."

As he left the room, Evelyn released a shaky breath.

Nathaniel turned to her, his hand finding hers. "You okay?"

She squeezed his fingers. "I will be. But this isn’t over."

He nodded, his eyes dark with determination. "No, it’s not."

Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of rain. A storm was coming—and not just the weather kind.

"Nathaniel, am I wrong?" Evelyn's voice trembled slightly. "You said it yourself. I kept pushing you to find Charlotte because she's my best friend. Now, I realize how selfish I was being. Maybe you were right all along."

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. His dark eyes bore into hers, searching for something she wasn't willing to show. "Evelyn, listen to yourself. Do you really think I can't see through you? You're blaming me in your heart, yet you refuse to admit it. Ask yourself—do you truly believe what you're saying?"

"I meant every word," she insisted, lifting her chin. "Whether you believe me or not doesn’t change that."

Evelyn pressed her lips together, a storm of emotions swirling inside her. Anger? No, she didn’t think so. There was nothing to be angry about. Charlotte had been found, safe and unharmed. So why did she feel this suffocating weight in her chest?

Pretending everything was fine felt like swallowing glass—painful and impossible.

The air between them grew thick with tension, heavy enough to suffocate. Silence stretched, unbearable.

After what felt like an eternity, Evelyn turned to leave. There was no point in dragging this out.

But Nathaniel’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist. His touch was firm, unyielding.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Planning to disappear like Charlotte did?"

Evelyn stiffened. She met his gaze, her own eyes flashing with defiance. "What, am I not allowed to leave now? You have your men tailing me everywhere. They’ll report back to you the second I step out the door. Why bother asking?"

Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. She tried to pull away, but Nathaniel held fast.

His expression darkened, shadows flickering across his face.

Evelyn’s breath came faster, her body coiled tight like a spring. Then, without warning, the world tilted. A wave of dizziness crashed over her, her vision blurring at the edges.

She barely registered Nathaniel’s arms catching her before everything went black.

Nathaniel acted instantly. "Samuel!" he barked, his voice sharp with urgency. "Get the car. Now."

Samuel, waiting outside, sprang into action. Within seconds, the car door was open, and Nathaniel was sliding into the backseat with Evelyn limp in his arms. The tires screeched as they sped toward the hospital.

Nathaniel’s grip on Evelyn never loosened. His entire body was rigid, his mind racing. The drive felt endless, though it couldn’t have been more than minutes.

At the hospital, Evelyn was rushed into the emergency room. The doctors moved quickly, running tests. The diagnosis came swiftly—hypoglycemia from exhaustion. Given her condition, they proceeded with extra caution.

Eventually, she was settled into a private room, still unconscious. The doctor adjusted her IV before turning to Nathaniel. "She’s severely fatigued. Let her rest. When she wakes up, she’ll need proper nourishment. We’ll keep her overnight for observation."

Nathaniel nodded stiffly, his eyes never leaving Evelyn’s pale face.

She looked fragile, her usual fiery spirit dimmed. For the first time in hours, her body was finally at rest.