Chapter 12

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the penthouse as Evelyn Sinclair stirred awake, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Nathan Blackwood had already left, his side of the bed cold. A faint trace of his cologne lingered in the air, teasing her senses.

She stretched, her muscles protesting slightly from last night’s events—a gala that had ended with whispered arguments and stolen glances. Nathan had been distant, his usual charm replaced by a brooding intensity that set her nerves on edge.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Lillian Graves, her assistant:

"The press caught wind of your argument with Nathan at the gala. The tabloids are spinning it as another breakup. Serena wants damage control ASAP."

Evelyn groaned, rubbing her temples. Of course, the media had twisted things. They always did.

She dragged herself out of bed, wrapping a silk robe around her frame before padding to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled beneath her, alive and indifferent.

A knock at the door startled her.

"Evelyn?" Nathan’s voice, low and hesitant.

She turned, her pulse quickening. He stood in the doorway, his tailored suit immaculate, but his expression was unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said.

Her stomach twisted. Those words never preceded anything good.

"About last night?" she asked, keeping her tone light.

His jaw tightened. "About us."

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tension.

Then, the elevator dinged in the distance.

Victoria Hayes, Nathan’s sharp-tongued secretary, stepped into the penthouse, her heels clicking against the marble. "Nathan, the board is waiting. You’re late."

His gaze flickered between Evelyn and Victoria before he exhaled sharply. "This isn’t over."

And just like that, he was gone again.

Evelyn clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. Whatever was eating at Nathan, he wasn’t sharing—and she was tired of guessing.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Preston Whitmore, the director of her upcoming film.

"Emergency reshoots. Studio in an hour. Don’t be late."

She sighed. At least work would be a distraction.

But as she dressed, her mind kept circling back to Nathan. To the way his eyes had darkened when he said, "About us."

Something was coming.

And she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

The morning sun cast golden streaks across Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse as she paced the marble floors, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The news had spread like wildfire—Nathan Blackwood, the man who had once shattered her heart, was now entangled in a scandal that threatened to ruin his empire.

Victoria Hayes, her ever-loyal secretary, entered with a tray of coffee, her expression unreadable. "The press is having a field day," she murmured, setting the cup down. "Blackwood Industries' stocks are plummeting."

Evelyn took a slow sip, bitterness lingering on her tongue—not from the coffee, but from the irony. "Karma works in mysterious ways," she mused.

Meanwhile, across town, Nathan stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, his reflection a ghost of the confident tycoon he once was. The accusations were baseless, yet the damage was done. His mother, Margaret Blackwood, had called him in a frenzy, demanding answers he didn’t have.

His phone buzzed—Sophia, his sister. "We need to talk. Now."

Nathan exhaled sharply. The last thing he needed was another lecture. But when he arrived at her penthouse, Sophia wasn’t alone. Julian, their brother, leaned against the fireplace, his smirk dripping with smug satisfaction.

"Finally decided to show up?" Julian drawled. "You always did have impeccable timing."

Nathan ignored the jab. "What’s this about?"

Sophia handed him a file. "Proof that someone’s framing you."

Nathan flipped through the documents, his pulse quickening. The evidence was undeniable—someone had meticulously orchestrated his downfall. And the mastermind?

A name leaped off the page, sending a chill down his spine.

Evelyn Sinclair.

His jaw clenched. This wasn’t just revenge. This was war.

"Compile every shred of evidence against Daniel's affairs," Nathan ordered coldly into the phone.

The moment those words left his lips, it was a death sentence for Daniel's marriage. The outcome? Losing everything—years of effort vanishing overnight.

Regaining his composure, Daniel finally snapped. "You can't do this, Sophia! You started this mess, so why pin it on me now? Yes, I’m with Adriana, but I gave you the title of my wife. What more do you want?"

His audacity left the Blackwoods speechless with rage.

"Did I beg to be your wife?" Sophia shot back, voice trembling with fury.

Daniel scoffed. "Your family’s influence forced my hand! Back then, marrying you was my only ticket to staying in medicine!"

Sophia nearly choked on her anger. "Daniel, your hypocrisy is disgusting."

He froze. Never had he seen Sophia—usually composed—unleash such venom.

She’s finally awake! Isabelle’s mental shout echoed. Sophia’s right—he’s the kind of snake who bites the hand that feeds him!

Tears had threatened to spill, but hearing Isabelle’s thoughts, Sophia straightened. Chin lifted, she glared.

"You’re just a gold-digging leech."

The insult—Daniel’s most hated—hit its mark. "What did you call me?"

"A leech. You and your mistress, both parasites. Shameless, both of you!"

"Sophia, you witch!" Adriana’s shrill voice crackled through the phone, having finally pieced together the chaos. "Who’s the real thief here? You stole my man and my life! You’re the disgrace!"

Her hatred ran deep. She’d never forget Sophia’s betrayal—sleeping with Daniel mere days after their breakup.

Pregnant and desperate, she’d sought Daniel out, only to learn he’d been forced into marriage. She’d nearly aborted their child… until—

"Then why wait years to fight for him?" Sophia fired back. "Your ‘man’ clung to power by refusing to divorce. Face it—you’re just a mistress. What right do you have to scream?"

The atmosphere shifted sharply, as if someone had flipped a switch.

“That’s because your family used their influence to manipulate Daniel’s future by threatening him?” Sophia’s voice dripped with venom. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have swallowed my pride. Even if he didn’t marry me, he would’ve always loved and protected me, leaving you alone in your empty marriage. That’s the punishment you deserve.”

Evelyn couldn’t help but think, Daniel is quite the master manipulator. He’s completely fooled his mistress.

Nathan scoffed. “I may be a fool, Adriana, but so are you. Daniel, you knew damn well whether my family threatened you! And yet, you still want to play the victim now? Trying to guilt-trip me with morality? It’s obvious you chose to ride my family’s coattails for your own gain, abandoning your so-called true love! Don’t you dare twist the truth—I won’t tolerate it!”

Nathan’s words struck deep, exposing Daniel’s wounded pride. His face twisted as if she had uncovered his darkest shame.

Adriana immediately jumped to his defense. “Don’t you dare slander Daniel!”

Sophia found the whole situation laughable. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, let’s see how you like it when I divorce him. Then you’ll understand what it means to be truly threatened by power.”

The threat from the eldest daughter of the Blackwood family was no joke.

Daniel paled. “Sophia, what’s gotten into you?”

“Oh? Worried now?” Sophia’s voice was razor-sharp. “So you knew all along the Blackwoods never intended to harm you.”

Daniel had no rebuttal.

Seeing Sophia’s cold detachment, Beatrice finally realized her daughter-in-law was no longer the meek woman who clung to her son. Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out desperately.

“Sophie, I’ll never accept her! Daniel just lost his way. Please, give him another chance—for my sake! Look at him, he’s already suffered enough.”

But Margaret stepped between them like a protective lioness.

Beatrice grabbed Daniel, forcing him to speak. “Apologize! Do you want to ruin our family?”

She nearly shoved him to his knees. His eyes flickered with panic before he finally choked out, “I won’t divorce you, Sophie. I was wrong. It was just my pride—I couldn’t accept losing. But the truth is… I do care about you—”

“Daniel!” Adriana shrieked.

“Shut up!” he snapped at her before she could say more.

Nathan’s cold laugh shattered the moment. “The evidence of your affair is undeniable. You have no say in this, Daniel. Stop the theatrics.”

Daniel turned desperately to Sophia, but all he saw was disgust in her eyes.

A child? Adriana’s pregnant? The entire Blackwood family recoiled in disgust.

“I admit I wronged Sophie,” Daniel said suddenly, his voice hollow. “I’ll divorce her. Do whatever you want to me—just leave the others out of it.”

In an instant, he seemed like a different person. He turned away sharply, as if he couldn’t bear to face them any longer.

Did he run because he’s afraid we’ll beat him again? Evelyn wondered.

She found his sudden change suspicious. A man like Daniel should’ve fought harder.

The Blackwoods didn’t dwell on it. Right now, they just wanted the Prescotts gone.

Amid her grief, Sophia lifted her gaze from Margaret’s embrace. When her eyes met Liam’s, her heart clenched.

Noticing Nathan’s sharp glare, Daniel—still gripping Liam—suddenly yanked the boy closer.

Fear flashed across Liam’s face.

Daniel turned away, his back to the Blackwoods. His lips curled into a cruel smirk.

Sophia. The Blackwoods. You’ll regret humiliating me.

Excitement twisted his features.

Watching the despicable couple retreat, Evelyn Sinclair bit back a scathing remark. They deserve every bit of what's coming to them. Justice had finally been served, and she couldn't help but feel a twisted satisfaction.

Nathan Blackwood's gaze lingered on Evelyn, his expression unreadable. A storm of emotions flickered behind his piercing eyes.

Poor Liam. The thought gnawed at Evelyn's conscience. He'll likely face harsh punishment when he gets home. How could such vile people raise such a kind-hearted boy? Her mind raced with questions. Why would they make him call their enemy "Mother"? Was this all some twisted revenge plot? Are they truly that cruel? What kind of monsters—

Nathan, privy to Evelyn's turbulent thoughts, almost sighed aloud. She worries too much.

Of course, it's about the inheritance. His jaw tightened. Sophia Blackwood's shares, the Lawson fortune—everything hinges on Liam being recognized as Sophia's legal heir. If Sophia can't conceive, adoption is their only option. But Daniel Prescott would never accept a child not of his own blood. And now that Adriana is pregnant again... The pieces fell into place. They're sacrificing one child to secure their future. Liam is old enough to understand the truth. In the end, Sophia will be the outsider in her own family. The realization sent a chill down his spine. Thank God for Evelyn.

Lost in thought, Nathan barely registered Evelyn's sudden movement. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, she lunged toward the Lawsons just as they reached the doorway.

"No!"

Evelyn's anguished cry shattered the tense silence, startling the Blackwood family so badly that Margaret nearly stumbled.

Before anyone could react, Evelyn seized Liam's arm and delivered a sharp kick to Daniel's back, as if trying to wrench the boy free.

Liam staggered backward—only Nathan's quick reflexes saved him from crashing to the floor.

Daniel wasn't so lucky. One moment he was scheming about Liam's future; the next, he was sprawled face-first on the marble tiles, dragging Beatrice down with him. A sickening crack echoed through the manor as his nose met the unforgiving floor. His howl of pain went ignored.

The Blackwoods were too focused on Evelyn's silent fury.

System, have you lost your damn mind?! Evelyn's mental scream was laced with panic. You fed me half-truths! This wasn't just an adoption scandal—it's a disaster! Her nails dug into her palms. The records said Daniel wanted to claim his illegitimate son. Of course, I assumed Liam was Adriana's child! But no—this bastard swapped the babies Sophia and Adriana delivered nine years ago! And now he has the audacity to ask Sophia to adopt her own son?! What kind of sick, twisted—

Her breath hitched. I never imagined Liam was Sophia's biological child.