Chapter 83

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Pineview Villa, casting golden patterns across the marble floors. Evelyn stood by the window, her fingers tracing the delicate veins of a monstera leaf as she watched Nathaniel's car disappear down the winding driveway. The silence of the grand house pressed against her ears.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming call from Gregory. "Evelyn, we've got a situation at the office," his voice carried an urgency she hadn't heard in weeks. "Summit Realty just pulled out of the waterfront project. Sebastian Wilson left a message saying they're taking their business elsewhere."

Evelyn's grip tightened around her phone. "What? We've spent months on those designs." Her mind raced through the implications - the team's hard work, the impending deadlines, the financial repercussions. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

As she hurried to gather her things, Alfred appeared in the doorway, his usual composed demeanor slightly ruffled. "Madam, Mr. Martin just called. He asked that you meet him at the corporate office immediately. Something about reviewing contracts with Edward Martin."

Evelyn froze. Edward Martin's sudden interest in their business dealings never boded well. The old man's schemes were as intricate as the antique clocks he collected. "Tell him I'll be there after I handle the Summit crisis," she said, slipping into her blazer.

The drive to her architecture firm passed in a blur of honking horns and flashing traffic lights. When she arrived, the entire design team was gathered in the conference room, their faces drawn. Gabrielle handed her a tablet showing the termination email from Summit Realty. "They cited 'creative differences,'" her assistant said, making air quotes, "but Jonathan Blake told Daniel Carter it's because Isabella Davis recommended another firm."

Evelyn's blood ran cold. Isabella's name was like a ghost that refused to stay buried. "Get me everything we have on the contractual obligations," she instructed, her professional mask firmly in place despite the storm brewing beneath. "And someone pull Isabella's recent projects. I want to know exactly what we're up against."

As the team scrambled, Evelyn's phone lit up with a text from Nathaniel: "Grandfather's called an emergency board meeting. He's making moves. Be careful." The message was followed by three ominous dots indicating more was coming. Then: "Isabella will be there."

The office suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in. Evelyn realized with chilling clarity that this wasn't just about a lost client - it was the opening move in a much larger game. One where her marriage, her career, and everything she'd built were now pawns on Edward Martin's chessboard.

She took a steadying breath and straightened her shoulders. If they wanted a war, they'd get one. But this time, Evelyn Mitchell wouldn't play by their rules. She'd make her own.

Nathaniel's blunt accusation ignited fury within him once more.

His fist connected with Gregory's face—once, twice—until blood smeared his knuckles. The commotion drew the attention of employees lingering after work. Though they didn't understand the cause, they recognized Nathaniel immediately.

Gabrielle, Evelyn's assistant, rushed into her office. "Ms. Mitchell! There's a fight outside!"

Evelyn, drowsy from her nap, jolted awake. "Who?"

"Mr. Martin and Mr. Wilson."

She hurried out to find Gregory slumped on the floor, Nathaniel gripping his collar with icy disdain.

"Nathaniel! What are you doing?"

Evelyn shoved Nathaniel aside and helped Gregory up. "Gregory, are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," he muttered, wiping blood from his lip.

She turned on Nathaniel, eyes blazing. "Why would you attack him for no reason?"

"Ask him what he tried to do," Nathaniel bit out, his voice dangerously low.

Gregory interjected, "Evelyn, Mr. Martin misunderstood. It's fine. You two should go."

"Misunderstood?" Nathaniel scoffed. "You think attempting to kiss her while she slept is a misunderstanding? Pathetic. At least own your actions."

Evelyn didn't argue further. She arranged for Gregory's assistant to take him to the clinic and dismissed the remaining staff.

Alone with Nathaniel, she finally demanded, "Was this because you're jealous of my friendship with him?"

His jaw tightened. Before he could respond, she continued, "How is this fair? You parade around with Isabella, fueling rumors, while Gregory and I have never crossed any lines. So why?"

"So to you, I'm just some violent brute with no justification?" Nathaniel's laugh was brittle. The fight had left his hair disheveled, his shirt wrinkled, yet it only accentuated his dangerous allure.

Their gazes locked. Evelyn faltered.

Nathaniel pressed on, "If I'd been a second later, he would've kissed you. You call him a friend, but does he see you that way? What kind of 'friend' takes advantage when you're vulnerable? Do you truly believe men stay close without ulterior motives?"

Evelyn's breath hitched. The accusation swirled in her chest, leaving her speechless.

Finally, she whispered, "You're wrong. He wouldn’t. He knows my boundaries."

"So I imagined it?" Nathaniel's voice dropped. "Should I wait until he violates you to prove it? Evelyn, my line is clear: I won’t tolerate infidelity. Stay away from him—or I’ll enforce that distance myself."

She fell silent, unwilling to entertain his implications. To her, Gregory had always been just a friend. But doubt crept in—had there been other moments she’d missed?

The car ride to Pineview Villa was suffocating. Neither spoke. Even after parking, they remained seated, the tension thick.

Nathaniel broke the silence. "Have you ever considered finding the man you still love?"

Evelyn stiffened. "What?"

"If you haven't moved on... maybe I could help you locate him." Gregory's words haunted Nathaniel. Unless Evelyn resolved her feelings, that shadow would always linger between them.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "No, thank you."

"Why not?"

"No reason. I’m not interested." She met his gaze. "Do you really want me to forget him?"

"It’s not about what I want. But my wife carrying another man in her heart? That’s unacceptable." His eyes darkened.

"And what about the woman in yours?" she countered. "Shouldn’t marriage be equal?"

Nathaniel’s expression hardened. "Things aren’t as they seem."

Evelyn mirrored his tone. "Perhaps neither are mine."

Their verbal dance left them both frustrated. Evelyn ached to confess that he was the one in her heart—but if his response was rejection, she’d rather keep it buried forever.

That night, she texted Gregory:

[Are you okay?]

He replied instantly:

[Just a scratch. Did he take it out on you?]

She typed:

[I’m sorry. He misinterpreted things. This shouldn’t have happened.]

Gregory called immediately. "Why are you apologizing? He’s the one who threw punches. I don’t need his remorse—or yours."

Evelyn’s voice was steady. "Gregory, I’m his wife."

The word wife silenced him.

"Right," he said coldly. "I overstepped. Forget it."

She hung up, turmoil churning. Unless she acted, this would happen again. And Evelyn refused to let anyone else get hurt because of her.