Chapter 186

The moment Evelyn Sinclair stepped into the Blackwood estate, she felt the weight of unspoken tension pressing against her chest. The grand chandelier cast flickering shadows across the marble floor, mirroring the storm brewing in her heart.

Nathan Blackwood stood by the fireplace, his broad shoulders rigid, his piercing gaze locked onto her. "You're late," he remarked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Evelyn lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. "Traffic was worse than expected."

A sardonic smile tugged at his lips. "Always an excuse with you."

Before she could retort, Victoria Hayes sauntered in, her designer heels clicking sharply against the floor. "Oh, don’t mind me," she purred, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I just came to remind Nathan about the board meeting tomorrow."

Evelyn clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Victoria had a knack for appearing at the worst possible moments, her presence like a dark cloud looming over them.

Nathan barely spared her a glance. "Noted."

Victoria's smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I’ll leave you two to… whatever this is." She shot Evelyn a knowing look before strutting out, the scent of her expensive perfume lingering in the air.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "We need to talk."

Nathan crossed his arms. "About?"

"About us," she insisted. "About whatever this"—she gestured between them—"is supposed to be."

His expression darkened. "There is no us, Evelyn. Not anymore."

The words struck like a physical blow, but she refused to back down. "You don’t mean that."

"Don’t I?" He took a step closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. "You walked away first. Don’t act surprised now."

Her breath hitched. "I had my reasons."

"Reasons you never bothered to share." His voice was laced with bitterness.

Evelyn swallowed hard. The truth hovered on the tip of her tongue, but fear kept it locked inside. What if he never forgave her? What if this was the end?

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. A message from Serena Whitmore, her agent: "Emergency meeting. Now."

She hesitated, torn between staying and leaving.

Nathan’s jaw tightened. "Go. Duty calls, right?"

Evelyn opened her mouth to argue, but the cold dismissal in his eyes stopped her. With a heavy heart, she turned and walked away, the echo of her footsteps a painful reminder of the distance between them.

Outside, the sky had darkened, thick clouds rolling in as if mirroring her turmoil. She barely registered the first drops of rain as they splashed against her skin.

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled—a warning of the storm to come.

And Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Nathan averted his gaze, unable to stomach the scene any longer.

But the others misinterpreted the situation entirely. How could they possibly understand the depth of Grayson’s devotion? They assumed the woman who had caught his eye was just another gold-digger who bore an uncanny resemblance to Vivian. To them, Gwendolyn was nothing more than a cheap imitation, desperate to win Grayson’s favor by mimicking his ex. Naturally, the disdain in the room was palpable.

From the way Grayson spoke to her, it was obvious he was merely toying with her—she wasn’t his girlfriend, just another passing amusement. And so, the people at the table grew impatient, unwilling to waste their time on someone so beneath them.

At the center of it all sat Mason Hunter. Dressed in a tailored suit, his fingers adorned with rare auction pieces, he lounged back in his chair with practiced arrogance. His dark hair was slicked back, his sharp features exuding a feral charm. He had a habit of tilting his head just slightly, looking down at others as if they were nothing more than insects beneath his polished shoes.

"Grayson," Mason drawled, swirling his drink lazily. "Have your fun, but don’t get attached. Women like her only care about money. They’d sell their souls for the right price." His smirk was cruel. "Don’t let a pretty face fool you."

The words were meant to cut, but Evelyn only found them amusing.

Hmm… Well, he’s not wrong. Who doesn’t work for money? She glanced at Gwendolyn, who remained unfazed, as if Mason’s insults didn’t even register. Interesting. She’s either very good at hiding her emotions, or she genuinely doesn’t care.

Nathan, however, was suffering from secondhand embarrassment so severe it was becoming a medical condition.

Mason had directed his venom at Gwendolyn, but the one who flinched wasn’t her—it was Claire, standing stiffly beside him. Her face darkened, her fingers tightening around her glass. The others who knew the truth exchanged uneasy glances.

When Mason , his gaze flicked to Claire, smug.

Ah. Evelyn’s eyes gleamed with realization. So this wasn’t about Gwendolyn at all. This was a veiled attack on Claire. How messy. She smirked. Does Mason really not realize he’s the one who cheated first?

Nathan nearly choked on his drink.

The last piece of gossip Evelyn had mentioned earlier suddenly clicked into place.

Ex-girlfriend turned sister-in-law. A broken relationship being mended.

Had Mason and Claire dated before? And now he was trying to win her back—while she was married to his own brother?

Nathan’s mind reeled. His memories were a tangled mess.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was thoroughly entertained.

This is even better than I imagined.

Evelyn Sinclair's thoughts swirled as she pieced together the scandalous past. At first, the trio had carried on a clandestine affair, hidden from prying eyes. Given Mason Hunter's guarded nature, his willingness to keep things under wraps spoke volumes about his feelings for Claire Morgan. Yet Claire remained hesitant—marriage meant risking her family's hard-won status. She knew Mason, though wealthy, would never inherit the Hampton empire. He was destined to remain the charming but powerless second son.

So Claire made her choice. She used Mason's connections to weave herself into Ethan Carter's orbit. By the time Mason uncovered the betrayal, the marriage alliance between the Hamptons and the Morgans was already sealed.

Cough, cough. Evelyn wrinkled her nose. I definitely didn’t sign up for this tawdry family drama.

Nathan Blackwood’s jaw tightened. Neither did I. No wonder Mason had been so volatile back then—lashing out at gold-diggers, drowning in bitterness. He’d never imagined the truth was this sordid.

Ethan, Mason’s older brother, was one of Nathan’s most trusted business partners. And from what Nathan could tell, Ethan remained blissfully unaware of his wife’s history.

The tension between Mason and Clifford—no, Grayson Hart—was palpable. Nathan’s instincts prickled. These unresolved emotions were a powder keg waiting to explode.

Then Evelyn turned to him, her gaze unreadable.

You’re all such tragic figures, she mused silently. Apart from Daniel Wright and Marcus Prescott, the rest of you… hopelessly pining after what you can’t have. Tall, rich, devastatingly handsome—yet cursed in love.

Nathan’s fingers twitched. I’m nothing like them.

But the thought twisted into something sharper: Or maybe I am.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. His ears burned. Before he could stop himself, his hand moved toward hers—

Huh? Evelyn’s mental yank snapped him back to reality.

The conversation had shifted to Mason’s current girlfriend, Violet Carter.

Wait, Mason’s seeing someone?

Now Nathan understood Mason’s earlier jabs at Grayson. Even among friends, neither man would yield. Grayson had indeed bought his way into certain circles, but admitting it? Never. The accusation clearly stung, but one look at Mason’s stormy expression told Grayson everything.

With a smirk, Grayson poured gasoline on the fire. "Oh, absolutely. We all know you’ve moved on—what was her name again? The makeup artist?"

Mason’s glass hit the table with a clink. "Careful, Hart."

Evelyn exhaled. Men.

Nathan caught her eye again. This time, her silent laugh was almost fond.

Almost.

His chest ached.

The air was thick with tension as Mason Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His friends' probing gazes made his skin prickle.

"So, Mason," Vivian Grant drawled, swirling her wine glass with a smirk. "Still playing the pauper with your little makeup artist? What’s the matter—couldn’t bring her tonight because she’s working?"

A hush fell over the group. Claire Morgan’s fingers tightened around her champagne flute, her expression unreadable.

Mason’s jaw twitched, but he forced a careless shrug. "She had a last-minute shoot. Otherwise, she’d be here."

Marcus Prescott barked a laugh. "Seriously? You’re letting her work instead of dragging her to a Hampton event? Since when do you tolerate that?"

Daniel Wright, who had just returned, slung an arm around Marcus’s neck in a mock chokehold. "Talking shit about me again?"

The table erupted into laughter, but the underlying tension remained. No one at this table truly cared about Daniel’s ex-fiancée—she was an outsider, after all. Their interactions with her had always been perfunctory, a courtesy extended only because of Daniel’s stubborn insistence on dating outside their circle.

Vivian leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Looks like Mason’s gone soft, just like you, Daniel."

Daniel blinked. "What?"

Lucas Thornton cut in, his tone sharp. "Let me guess—you still haven’t told her who you really are. Playing with fire, Hunter."

Beatrice Holloway, usually composed, arched a brow. "You’re lying to her?"

Lucas grinned, eager to stir the pot. "Oh, he’s not just lying—he’s been letting her pay his bills for two years. Testing her ‘sincerity.’"

Beatrice’s lips curled in disgust. "That’s vile."

Grayson Hart scoffed. "Worse—he plans to keep it up. That girl must be delusional to believe this act."

Mason’s face darkened, but pride kept his voice steady. "You don’t understand. She fell for me, not my name or money. I gave her a chance because she was genuine. And she’s proven herself—so unless something changes, she’ll be the one I marry." He smirked, arrogance dripping from his words. "Sure, she’s supported me for two years, but I’ll repay her tenfold. A life of luxury she could never dream of on her own."

The table fell silent.

For once, Mason Hunter sounded deadly serious.

"Are you serious? Do you truly love her?" Vivian Grant questioned with wide, curious eyes.

Mason Hunter hesitated for a brief moment before nodding, a flicker of tenderness passing through his gaze.

Claire Morgan lowered her lashes, pressing her lips together as her fingers tightened around her phone.

Daniel Wright frowned, his voice edged with disapproval. "Playing with someone's emotions like this... it's cruel. If she's as wonderful as you claim, she won't recover easily when the truth comes out. You should come clean now, apologize, and beg for her forgiveness. Otherwise—"

Mason cut him off sharply, his tone laced with desperation. "She won’t leave. You don’t understand how much she loves me, how much she needs me."

Lucas Thornton smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, that sounds familiar. Mr. Hart said the exact same thing earlier."

Grayson Hart shot him a warning glare.

Throughout the exchange, Nathan Blackwood had been silently observing, his expression darkening as the conversation unfolded.

Is this really just a coincidence?

He turned slightly, catching the shift in Evelyn Sinclair's expression—her face had gone pale, her lips parted in shock.

And just as he expected, her thoughts spilled out in a furious, unguarded rush.

What the actual hell?! That’s vile! Violet Carter’s secret lover is Mason Hunter? This is some twisted Cinderella story gone wrong! Does Mason have any idea how much Violet suffers because of him? Is he out of his damn mind? After what Claire did to him, he turns around and does this to someone else? If he’s got a problem, he should take it up with the one who betrayed him—Claire! Wait… what has she even done? Oh my god… this is going to explode today.

Meanwhile, in a private lounge on the same floor—reserved for guests to freshen up—Cassandra arrived with her entourage.

Inside, two makeup artists stood ready, their kits open and waiting.