Chapter 61

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, casting golden patterns across the marble floors. I stretched beneath the silk sheets, my fingers brushing against the cold, empty space beside me. Nathaniel had already left for his early meeting at Martin Group headquarters.

My phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Gabrielle's name flashed across the screen with three missed calls and a string of urgent texts about the Kensington project revisions. I groaned, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The architectural firm had been swamped since Gregory and I won the commercial district bid last month.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee lured me toward the kitchen where Alfred, our butler, stood arranging breakfast with military precision. "Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he murmured, pouring steaming dark roast into my favorite porcelain cup. "Mr. Martin asked me to inform you he'll be dining with Mr. Ellsworth at the club tonight."

I nodded absently, scrolling through project blueprints on my tablet. The design needed complete restructuring before our 2 PM client presentation. My stomach twisted at the thought of Nathaniel's business dinner - Thomas Ellsworth had been introducing him to various investors lately, all with eligible daughters.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. Alfred admitted Isabella Davis, looking impossibly chic in a cream Dior suit, her signature vanilla perfume preceding her like a declaration of war. My coffee cup clattered against its saucer.

"Darling," she purred, air-kissing my cheeks. "I was in the neighborhood and thought we might lunch at Le Bernardin. Vanessa's arranging a charity gala and we simply must discuss your involvement." Her crimson nails tapped against her crocodile Birkin. "Nathaniel's already pledged Martin Group's support, of course."

The unspoken challenge hung between us. Isabella had been maneuvering herself back into our lives since returning from Paris, her every interaction with Nathaniel carefully staged for maximum intimacy. Last week's opera incident flashed through my mind - the paparazzi shots of them leaning close in the private box had trended for days.

My phone buzzed again. Gabrielle: Emergency at site. Structural integrity concerns. Media's here.

I stood abruptly, breakfast forgotten. "Rain check, Isabella. Work crisis." I grabbed my briefcase, pausing only to text Nathaniel: We need to talk tonight. No excuses.

The elevator doors slid shut on Isabella's frozen smile. As the car descended, my reflection in the mirrored walls showed a woman bracing for battle on multiple fronts. The Kensington project, Isabella's machinations, Nathaniel's increasingly frequent "business dinners" - all pieces in a dangerous game where I refused to be the sacrificial pawn.

The lobby doors opened to a wall of flashing cameras. Reporters shouted questions about the Martin Group's rumored merger with Davis Holdings. I straightened my shoulders and stepped into the storm.

Isabella's lips pressed into a thin line as she cast a fleeting glance at Nathaniel. Lowering her voice, she murmured, "Today's press conference is about my comeback. Let's keep the focus on my new projects. As for my personal life, I'd rather not discuss it publicly. If there's any news worth sharing, my fans will be the first to know."

Though her words seemed to dismiss further questions, they only stoked the flames of speculation.

Meanwhile, in her office, Evelyn watched the live broadcast unfold. The screen showed Nathaniel, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, standing beside Isabella, who shimmered in an elegant gown and flawless makeup. Their proximity was undeniable, and the whispers about their relationship grew louder.

Evelyn exhaled sharply and shut her laptop, unwilling to dwell on it.

Just then, the office door creaked open, and Gregory stepped inside, his gaze locking onto hers.

"Evelyn," he said, frustration lacing his tone, "what is Nathaniel thinking? Showing up at Isabella's event like that—it's practically a public declaration."

Evelyn shrugged, forcing a casual smile. "He can do as he pleases."

"Evelyn, he's treating you horribly. Why stay in this marriage?"

She met his eyes calmly. "I appreciate your concern, Gregory, but some things are more complicated than they seem. Marriage isn't just about two people."

She wanted a divorce, but Nathaniel's influence—both from his family and his own power—made it impossible to simply walk away. The Martin family had a tight grip on her, and she couldn't just sever ties without consequences.

Gregory opened his mouth to argue, but Evelyn gently cut him off. "I'm fine, really. Don't pity me. Life isn't perfect, and every experience shapes us."

Her smile left him speechless, his expression tinged with sorrow. "Evelyn, I just wish you'd stay away from him. I'm worried about you..."

Backstage at Isabella's event, Nathaniel strode out with a stormy expression.

Isabella hurried after him. "Nathaniel, please, let me explain—"

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. Their eyes met, and his voice was icy. "Isabella, today was a one-time favor. I tolerate your dramatics, but I won't tolerate deception."

Without another word, he walked away, deaf to her pleas.

Tears welled in Isabella's eyes as she stood alone.

Just moments earlier, a reporter had asked, "Mr. Martin, can you clarify your relationship with Ms. Davis? Are the rumors of your marriage true?"

Nathaniel's response had been cool. "We've been friends for years. Today is about Isabella's achievements, not baseless gossip. Fabricated stories only distract from what matters."

With that, he left the stage, leaving Isabella seething.

She blamed Evelyn. If Evelyn hadn't clung to Nathaniel, she wouldn't have needed to manipulate the press into thinking they were together.

It was all Evelyn's fault. She was the obstacle standing between Isabella and Nathaniel.

With a dark resolve, Isabella vowed to make Evelyn suffer.

Her agent, Vanessa, caught up to her. "Isabella, is Mr. Martin upset?"

"No," Isabella replied smoothly, forcing a smile. "He had work to attend to. Let's continue."

Returning to the stage, she captivated her fans with a familiar melody, her voice as enchanting as ever, quickly overshadowing the earlier drama.

Videos and photos of the incident flooded the internet, skyrocketing to the top of trending searches.

Meanwhile, at the Martin estate, Edward nearly lost his temper when he saw the viral content.

Slamming his fist on the table, he growled, "What is Nathaniel doing? Does he really intend to marry that woman?"

In a rage, he ordered Winston to summon Nathaniel immediately. However, Samuel intercepted the call, explaining that Nathaniel was in a meeting.

"Tell him to come home as soon as he's done," Edward snapped.

"Understood."

Richard tried to calm his father. "Dad, let's not jump to conclusions. We'll talk to Nathaniel directly."

"Talk? What's there to talk about? The evidence is right there! He refuses to listen to anyone!" Edward fumed, his anger directed squarely at Nathaniel.

Desperate for answers, he called Evelyn, hoping for clarity. But her composed response only deepened his frustration.

An hour later, Nathaniel finished his meeting, and Samuel quickly briefed him on the online uproar and the family's summons.

Glancing at his phone, Nathaniel's expression darkened. "Did I hire you to sit around? Handle these rumors."

His gaze was glacial, laced with unmistakable displeasure.

Samuel nodded gravely. "Mr. Martin, my apologies. I'll take care of it immediately."

He swiftly organized a team to suppress the news about Nathaniel and Isabella.

He had hesitated earlier, unsure of Nathaniel's stance. His attendance at the event might have signaled approval.

But seeing Nathaniel's anger, Samuel realized his mistake.

Returning to his office, Nathaniel called home, but Edward had already taken his medication and gone to bed.

Richard answered, concern evident. "What happened? How did you end up in this mess with Isabella?"

"Dad, the press twists everything. I was just supporting a friend."

"Handle it properly. Don't let your grandfather worry."

"I know."

Ending the call, Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, silent for a long moment.

He stared at his phone, but it remained stubbornly quiet—no calls, no messages.

His handsome features twisted into a scowl as his mood soured further.

The tension lingered until he left the office. Sitting in the car, he turned to Samuel, his voice frosty. "Did Evelyn contact you today?"

Samuel hesitated, unsure what answer Nathaniel wanted.

Meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror, he ventured carefully, "Mr. Martin, are you asking if Mrs. Martin reacted to the news?"

Nathaniel's expression remained unreadable.

Realizing his mistake, Samuel quickly added, "Apologies, Mr. Martin. Mrs. Martin didn't reach out to me or visit the company today. I don't know her reaction."