Chapter 300

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Pineview Villa, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. Evelyn stood by the window, her fingers tracing the delicate rim of her coffee cup. The warmth seeped into her skin, but it did little to ease the tension coiling in her chest.

Nathaniel had left early—again.

She exhaled sharply, setting the cup down with a quiet clink. The silence of the villa was suffocating, broken only by the distant hum of the city below.

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

"Meeting at 10. Client wants revisions on the waterfront project. Think you can make it?"

Evelyn frowned. She had barely slept, her mind replaying last night’s argument with Nathaniel. His cold dismissal, the way he had turned away from her as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.

She typed back quickly. "I’ll be there."

Before she could set the phone down, another notification flashed—Isabella Davis had posted a new photo.

Evelyn’s thumb hovered over the screen. She shouldn’t look. She knew she shouldn’t.

But she did.

The image was a candid shot of Isabella at some high-end gala, her emerald-green dress clinging to her curves, a champagne flute dangling from her fingers. And in the background, barely in focus but unmistakable—Nathaniel, his dark suit immaculate, his expression unreadable.

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

The caption read: "Old flames and new beginnings. 🥂 #Throwback"

A bitter laugh escaped her. Of course. Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, life had a way of proving her wrong.

She tossed the phone onto the couch and grabbed her coat. If she stayed here any longer, she’d drown in her own thoughts.

The city streets were alive with movement, the crisp autumn air biting at her cheeks. Evelyn walked without direction, her mind a whirlwind of doubts and fears.

Had she made a mistake marrying Nathaniel?

Was she just a placeholder until Isabella decided she wanted him back?

A hand suddenly gripped her arm, yanking her out of her thoughts.

"Evelyn?"

She turned to find Thomas Ellsworth, Nathaniel’s closest friend, staring at her with concern.

"You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

She forced a smile. "Just lost in thought."

Thomas studied her for a moment before sighing. "Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Nate, but—"

"But what?" Evelyn snapped, then immediately regretted it.

Thomas held up his hands. "But you deserve better than this."

The words struck her like a physical blow.

Because deep down, she knew he was right.

And that was the most terrifying realization of all.

Victor's voice cut through the tense silence. "Mr. William Mitchell, what about the funds the Martin Group transferred earlier?"

William's shoulders slumped as he answered, "That barely covered the interest on our other loans. Just the interest." His voice cracked under the weight of exhaustion. "So tell me, Victor, what now?"

The air grew heavier. William couldn't breathe—it felt like an invisible hand was crushing his chest. The relentless ringing of creditors' calls echoed in his skull, each one a hammer blow to his sanity. His vision blurred at the edges.

Victor glanced back when no reply came. "Mr. Mitchell? Should I take you home?"

Still nothing.

William had collapsed against the seat, unconscious.

The hospital lights were too bright.

Margaret and Sophia arrived in a panic, heels clicking against the sterile floor. "What happened?" Margaret demanded, her voice trembling. "Why is he like this?"

Sophia squeezed her mother's hand. "He'll be okay. We have to believe that."

Margaret bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, nodding mutely.

There was nothing else they could do but wait.

Half an hour later, the doctors wheeled William out. Stable—but no one could say when he'd wake up.

Sophia stayed with Margaret while she left to gather essentials from home. Before leaving, she fired off a text:

[Dad's in the hospital. If you still care about this family, come now.]

Evelyn's fork clattered onto her plate.

She stood so fast her chair nearly toppled. "I need to go."

Nathaniel caught her wrist. "What's wrong?"

"Sophia says Dad's hospitalized. It's bad."

He was already reaching for his keys.

They nearly collided with Beatrice at the door.

Her sharp eyes missed nothing. "The Mitchells are in trouble, and you didn't tell me?" Beatrice didn't own a smartphone, but the morning papers had been damning.

Evelyn kept it brief. "I'll handle it."

No mention of hospitals. No need to worry her grandmother further.

Beatrice simply nodded. "Go. But remember—family first."

Nathaniel went straight to Dr. Harrison's office while Evelyn headed for the ward.

She never made it past the doorway.

Margaret blocked her like a vengeful spirit. "Get out." The words were ice. "How dare you show your face here? This is your doing! If you'd lifted a finger to help, your father wouldn't be—"

A shove.

Nathaniel materialized between them, shielding Evelyn.

Evelyn met her mother's glare without flinching. "Stop me if you want. But Dad needs Dr. Harrison. Let him through."

Margaret knew Harrison's reputation. Knew he was William's best chance.

Rage won anyway.

"We don't want your pity," she spat. "If he dies, Evelyn, his blood is on your hands. You'll carry that guilt forever."

Evelyn's voice dropped to a whisper. "Really? You'd rather let him suffer than swallow your pride?" A beat. "Tell me, Mother—who's the real accomplice here?"

The heart monitor's steady beep was the only reply.