Chapter 290

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's penthouse, illuminating the sleek modern furniture. She stood by the glass wall, sipping her coffee, her mind racing with the events of last night. Nathaniel had been distant, his usual warmth replaced by an unsettling silence.

Her phone buzzed on the marble countertop. It was a message from Gregory.

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

She exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the phone. This project was supposed to be her breakthrough, the one that would solidify her reputation in the industry. But now, with Sebastian Wilson playing games, everything was at risk.

Before she could reply, the penthouse door clicked open. Nathaniel stepped inside, his tailored suit immaculate as always, but his expression was unreadable.

"You're up early," he remarked, his voice cool.

Evelyn studied him for a moment. "Something's bothering you."

He hesitated, then walked to the bar cart and poured himself a drink—whiskey, neat. "Isabella called."

The name sent a jolt through Evelyn. Isabella Davis, Nathaniel's ex, the woman who had once held his heart.

"What did she want?" Evelyn kept her tone neutral, though her pulse quickened.

Nathaniel took a slow sip before answering. "She's back in town. And she wants to meet."

Evelyn's grip on her coffee cup tightened. "Why now?"

He met her gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. "That's what I intend to find out."

The air between them grew heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Evelyn forced a smile. "Well, don't keep her waiting."

Nathaniel frowned. "Evelyn—"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I have a meeting with Gregory. The Summit deal is in trouble."

His expression darkened. "Sebastian again?"

She nodded. "I'll handle it."

Nathaniel set his glass down with a sharp clink. "Let me know if you need me."

Evelyn watched as he strode out, his broad shoulders tense. She exhaled slowly, her mind already shifting to the battle ahead—both in business and in love.

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

"Girl, we need to talk. Now. Meet me at The Velvet."

Evelyn sighed. Whatever Charlotte had to say, it couldn't be good.

With one last glance at the empty penthouse, she grabbed her purse and headed out, steeling herself for the storm brewing on the horizon.

The moment the call ended, Nathaniel's expression turned icy. His gaze flickered toward Samuel with chilling indifference. "We're leaving."

"Yes, Mr. Martin."

Samuel bowed his head and swiftly opened the car door, following Nathaniel to the dinner engagement.

Meanwhile, Evelyn clutched her phone tightly, her fingers trembling. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the screen again.

Why did she feel so unsettled?

She replayed their conversation in her mind—nothing she’d said had been unreasonable. And yet, her chest ached with an inexplicable weight.

Perhaps the call had drained her. Exhaustion pulled her under, and she fell asleep faster than expected.

But the night had other plans.

A nightmare jolted her awake in the dead of night, her heart pounding violently. Sweat clung to her skin as she gasped for air.

She couldn’t calm down.

Before she could stop herself, her fingers dialed Nathaniel’s number.

"Evelyn?"

His voice was rough with sleep, yet instantly alert.

Hearing him say her name snapped her back to reality. What had she done?

When she didn’t respond, his tone sharpened. "Evelyn? Are you there?"

"I—" Her voice cracked. "I’m here."

"What’s wrong?"

She swallowed hard. "I had a nightmare. I didn’t tell you before, but... I’ve been having them ever since you left for your trip. I just woke up from another one. Nathaniel, I’m scared."

The raw vulnerability in her whisper sent a jolt through him.

In an instant, he was wide awake.

Throwing off the covers, he strode across the room, keeping his voice steady. "Why didn’t you say anything sooner? It’s just a dream. You’re safe, understand?"

Evelyn bit her lip. Logically, she knew dreams weren’t real. But the terror felt so vivid—so possible.

"I keep dreaming that something happens to the baby... and to me," she whispered.

"Evelyn." His voice turned sharp. "Don’t say that."

She fell silent, but the fear lingered.

After a brief pause, Nathaniel exhaled. "Listen to me. I’m coming back. Turn on the TV, or go to Beatrice’s room. If you don’t want to wake her, I’ll call Victoria right now to stay with you."

"No, it’s too late. Don’t disturb her—and you don’t have to rush back. I just... needed to hear your voice. I’ll be fine."

"Evelyn." His voice softened. "We’re married. You don’t have to be polite with me. If you won’t let me call my mother or your grandmother, then let me be there for you. I’m your husband. That’s my job."

Her breath hitched.

The call didn’t end until Nathaniel reached the airport. In the background, she heard him instructing Samuel to book the earliest flight back to Mayby—even if it meant a layover. He wouldn’t arrive until dawn.

How could she not be moved?

Before boarding, his voice dropped to a low murmur. "Wait for me, Evelyn. I’ll be there soon."