Chapter 87

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. Evelyn stirred, blinking against the light. Beside her, Nathaniel slept soundly, his breathing steady. She traced the curve of his jaw with her fingertips, a small smile playing on her lips.

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

"Emergency meeting at the office. We need you here ASAP."

Evelyn sighed. She had hoped for a quiet morning, but work never waited. Carefully, she slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Nathaniel.

Downstairs, Alfred had already prepared breakfast—fresh fruit, toast, and coffee. He gave her a knowing look. "Another early start, Miss Evelyn?"

She nodded, grabbing a piece of toast. "Duty calls."

The drive to the office was quick. The city was just waking up, the streets still quiet. When she arrived, Gregory was pacing in the conference room, his expression tense.

"You're not going to believe this," he said, handing her a folder.

Evelyn flipped it open. Inside were blueprints—her blueprints—but with significant alterations. The signature at the bottom made her blood run cold.

Sebastian Wilson.

Her grip tightened on the papers. "What is this?"

Gregory exhaled sharply. "Summit Realty just submitted these to the city council. They’re claiming it’s their original design."

Evelyn’s mind raced. This was sabotage. She had spent months perfecting those plans, and now Sebastian was trying to steal her work.

She reached for her phone, dialing Nathaniel. He answered on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep.

"Evelyn? Everything okay?"

"No," she said, her voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath. "I need your help."

There was a pause, then the sound of sheets rustling. "I’m on my way."

Evelyn ended the call, her gaze fixed on the blueprints. This wasn’t just about a project anymore.

"I didn't, Nathaniel. How could I blame you? That incident was my fault from the beginning. I shouldn't have let Vanessa arrange for you to pick me up. I know how strictly you separate your personal and professional life. It was my mistake..."

"Enough. That's in the past. Let's not revisit it," Nathaniel cut her off, his expression unreadable.

Isabella nodded, offering a gentle smile. "Nathaniel, please don't be upset. I promise it won’t happen again."

"Hmm." He acknowledged with a slight nod before shifting the topic. "What exactly did you remember last night?"

Isabella met his gaze steadily. "I recalled that the man had a tattoo—a dragon coiling around his entire arm."

"Why would such a specific detail surface now?"

"Perhaps seeing a documentary about tattoos triggered the memory."

Nathaniel studied her in silence, his piercing gaze making her shift uncomfortably.

"Nathaniel, why are you looking at me like that? Do you doubt me?"

"Not at all. I'm just trying to recall if I’ve encountered someone matching that description."

"Have you?" she pressed softly.

"Not certain yet." He glanced away, then added, "Isabella, I consulted specialists about your condition. Trauma can sometimes suppress memories temporarily. A psychologist might help retrieve them. Can you spare time in the coming days for a session?"

A flicker of tension crossed Isabella’s ever-serene face before she nodded. "Of course. I’ll follow your lead, Nathaniel."

He hummed in response, falling silent.

Sipping the water he’d poured, Isabella ventured, "Any word from Isaac? The silence is unsettling. Has he refused?"

"Samuel is handling it," Nathaniel said, striding to his desk and dialing an extension. "Any updates on Isaac?"

Samuel’s voice came through promptly. "Mr. Martin, I just received confirmation. Isaac is in Mayby. I’ve arranged dinner tomorrow at The Scarlet."

"Good. His accommodations?"

"He declined to share, and I didn’t press to avoid discomfort."

"Manage it discreetly."

Hanging up, Nathaniel turned to find Isabella approaching, her eyes alight. "Isaac is here?"

"Yes."

"Nathaniel, you’re incredible! I never imagined he’d agree to meet."

Isaac wasn’t just a legendary composer—his last single had shattered records within minutes. Association with him meant industry reverence and limitless opportunities.

The thought sent a thrill through Isabella. She impulsively clasped Nathaniel’s arm.

He frowned, subtly withdrawing. The gesture reminded him of Evelyn’s unfiltered joy upon receiving a friend’s call—genuine, unlike Isabella’s calculated enthusiasm.

"Meeting doesn’t guarantee cooperation," he said coolly. "We’ll know tomorrow."

Undeterred, Isabella nodded. "I understand. But I believe he’ll say yes."

She lingered until Samuel announced a meeting, then excused herself, buoyant. Once Isaac writes for me, let’s see Evelyn compete with that.

By midday, Evelyn texted Nathaniel:

[No need to pick me up later. I’ll cab home early.]

Receiving no reply, she assumed he was busy and left the office.

As she hailed a cab, a sleek black car pulled up. The window lowered, revealing Nathaniel.

"You’re here? Didn’t you get my text? It’s too early—I can manage."

"We can’t idle here. Get in."

She canceled the cab, buckling up as the car merged into traffic.

"I wasn’t here for you," he said tersely. "Had business nearby."

A hint of jealousy laced his tone.

Evelyn suppressed a smile. "Nathaniel, I’m a CEO too. My company might not rival Martin Group, but I set my hours."

"Noted, Ms. Mitchell," he deadpanned, his deep voice sending warmth to her cheeks. She turned to the window, hiding her blush.

Back at Pineview Villa, Evelyn showered and sat at her vanity, reaching for her makeup.

Pregnancy had kept her bare-faced lately, something Nathaniel openly preferred. So when he saw her lining her eyes, he frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Eyeliner," she said, steady-handed.

"For an airport reunion? Is that necessary?"

"It’s basic courtesy. I can’t greet a friend looking disheveled."

"You claimed closeness. Why the formality?"

"Nathaniel, it’s just light makeup. Why twist it?"

Exasperated, she finished her subtle look—peach lipstick, a flowy dress, and a trench coat—effortlessly striking.

Satisfied, she grabbed her bag. "I’m heading out now?"

Silence.

She turned to leave when his voice stopped her. "Wait. Come here."

Approaching, she gasped as he pulled her into a searing kiss, leaving her breathless.