Chapter 206

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, casting a golden glow over the sleek modern furnishings. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, her mind racing with the events of the past few days.

Nathan Blackwood had been unusually distant.

Ever since their explosive argument at the gala—where accusations had flown like daggers—he had retreated into his usual cold, impenetrable demeanor. But Evelyn knew better. She had seen the flicker of vulnerability in his storm-gray eyes before he shut her out completely.

Her phone buzzed on the marble countertop. A message from Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant:

"The Blackwood Group just scheduled an emergency board meeting. No details yet, but whispers suggest it’s about the merger."

Evelyn’s grip on her cup tightened. The merger. The very thing that had driven a wedge between her and Nathan.

She exhaled sharply, setting the coffee down. If Nathan thought he could cut her out of this decision, he was sorely mistaken.

Across the city, in the towering Blackwood Enterprises headquarters, Nathan sat at the head of the conference table, his expression unreadable. The board members shifted uncomfortably under his piercing gaze.

"We proceed with the acquisition," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"But, Mr. Blackwood," one of the older directors ventured cautiously, "without Ms. Sinclair’s final approval—"

Nathan’s jaw tightened. "This is my company. My decision."

A tense silence settled over the room.

Then, the doors swung open.

Evelyn stood there, her emerald-green dress a stark contrast to the sea of black suits. Her chin was lifted, her gaze locked onto Nathan’s.

"You forgot to invite me to the party," she said coolly.

Nathan’s eyes darkened. "This isn’t your concern."

"Isn’t it?" She stepped forward, the click of her heels echoing in the hushed room. "Last I checked, I still own twenty percent of this company. Or did you plan to steamroll over that too?"

The air between them crackled with tension.

Nathan leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "Sit down, Evelyn."

She didn’t move. "Not until you explain why you’re rushing this deal without consulting me."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Because I don’t need your permission."

Evelyn’s lips curled into a humorless smile. "No. But you do need my shares."

The room held its breath.

Nathan’s expression hardened. "Fine. You want to play this game? Let’s play." He stood abruptly, his towering frame dwarfing hers. "But don’t expect me to hold back."

Evelyn met his challenge head-on. "I wouldn’t dream of it."

The battle lines had been drawn.

And neither of them was backing down.

The moment Nathan spoke those words, a spark of realization ignited in Evelyn's mind.

Wait a second... Is this fate intervening? Even my lipstick seems to know I need an excuse to slip away. Nathan, you absolute gem—you really are my lucky charm!

Without hesitation, Evelyn turned toward Mason with hopeful eyes.

Mason could have easily witnessed Nathan’s discreet maneuver had he been paying attention. But his distraction cost him the moment, and by the time he processed the situation, he was already halfway out of his seat to escort her.

Evelyn quickly waved him off. "No need! Just point me in the right direction. I can manage on my own."

I can’t let Mason come with me. Whether Violet is here to confront him or not, I won’t interfere with destiny. But that doesn’t mean I can’t indulge in a little gossip—just not the kind I start. A professional gossiper has standards, after all.

"Huh?" Mason blinked, caught off guard.

"Don’t worry, Claire’s still in the makeup room. She’ll take care of you if you need anything," Ethan chimed in, having overheard. He flashed Evelyn a warm smile. "It’s the first door on the second floor—can’t miss it. And feel free to explore the house. The garden and rooftop terrace are particularly stunning this time of day."

Evelyn could tell he sensed their boredom. With the other guests yet to arrive and the party not officially underway, the Hampton siblings weren’t exactly the most entertaining company.

Once again, she found herself admiring Ethan. Coming from such a prestigious family, he had every reason to be aloof, yet he remained effortlessly gracious. His respect for Nathan clearly extended to his wife—a courtesy his own wife and younger brother sorely lacked.

She shot him another sympathetic glance. Why does someone this decent have to deal with such a mess? He deserves better.

Eager to seize the moment, Evelyn stood abruptly—so quickly that she didn’t notice Nathan rising as well, trailing after her like a shadow.

Before leaving, Nathan could practically feel the weight of his family’s silent resentment.

Tough luck. He couldn’t exactly drag them all along, even if they wished he would.

And though they knew it was impossible, they could only sit there, silently willing Evelyn’s thoughts to reach them like a live broadcast of the juiciest gossip.

Mason, however, was momentarily stunned as he watched Nathan follow Evelyn without hesitation.

I still can’t wrap my head around this. Since when did Nathan become so... different? What kind of magic does Evelyn possess to change him in just six months?

Julian smirked at Mason, his tone dripping with amusement. "The power of love, obviously. They're married—what do you expect? They’re practically glued together. What about you? Don’t tell me you and your girlfriend are the independent type?"

Mason stiffened, his expression darkening. The comment struck a nerve, and he chose silence over a retort.

From across the room, Genevieve chimed in, her voice light but probing. "Mason, where is your girlfriend? Didn’t she come tonight?"

Another blow. Mason clenched his jaw before forcing out, "She’s busy."

Sophia, lounging nearby, arched a brow. "Wait, you have a girlfriend? Since when?"

Mason nearly groaned.

Did they all have to gang up on him?

Truthfully, only his inner circle knew about his relationship—he’d never made it public. Given his reputation as the Hampton family’s reckless second son, most dismissed it as another fleeting fling. Even his own family barely batted an eye, assuming it wasn’t serious.

After all, they’d heard rumors before—only for Mason to break things off before they even learned the girl’s name.

The Hamptons had long stopped caring.

Just then, guests began arriving in waves. Ethan, ever the dutiful eldest son, nudged Mason toward the entrance to greet them.

Meanwhile, Evelyn had reached the edge of the battlefield—though the real hiccup wasn’t Nathan trailing behind her.

At first, she’d been baffled by his presence, but before she could dwell on it, voices spilled from the half-open door of the makeup room. Clear. Unfiltered.

"You expect me to believe hiring me twice was a coincidence? And at this price? What’s your game? I’m not stupid. I know my so-called boyfriend is the Hampton family’s second son."

Evelyn blinked.

Well. That door wasn’t even shut. And here she’d been planning to eavesdrop like some stealthy spy.

A light tug on her wrist stopped her.

She turned to find Nathan giving her a pointed look—against the wall. Now.

Evelyn nearly laughed.

So the great Nathan Blackwood was a gossip too. Not that she blamed him. Who wouldn’t want to listen in on this conversation?

Ever generous with intel, she pulled out her phone and typed:

[Violet Carter’s inside.]

Nathan’s brows lifted in silent surprise.

Game on.

Evelyn felt a sudden surge of energy and quickly texted Nathan: So your friend pretended to be broke just to win Violet over!

Nathan frowned, his displeasure evident at Mason’s deceit.

Evelyn exhaled in relief. At least they were on the same page—this was entirely Mason’s fault.

If texting weren’t so cumbersome, she would’ve launched into a full-blown discussion with Nathan right then and there.

Inside the room, the conversation continued.

"You knew all along, yet you stayed with him. Of course, a woman like you wouldn’t let go of a Hampton heir. But Mason is just as guilty for lying to you. I apologize on his behalf."

Damn, even an Oscar-winning actress couldn’t pull off this performance! Evelyn thought, itching to see Claire’s expression.

Just then, her phone was snatched from her hands.

She blinked in surprise as Nathan swiftly opened an app, flipped the camera, adjusted the angle, and zoomed in—revealing the scene inside the makeup room on her screen.

Claire stood face-to-face with Violet.

Evelyn gaped at Nathan’s smooth, practiced movements before shooting him an impressed look.

This man is unreal. Since when did he master paparazzi-level stealth?

Nathan’s hand twitched slightly, nearly ruining the shot. His lips curved wryly. It’s just basic physics, really.

Evelyn was thrilled—now she had both audio and visuals of the confrontation.

Heh, can’t blame us for spying when they left the door wide open—Wait. Why didn’t they close it? Are they trying to get caught?

Meanwhile, the Blackwoods, eavesdropping from the floor below, noticed the Hampton women whispering to Grace. Seated nearby, they caught snippets of the exchange.

"Is your hair fixed? Need to go upstairs for touch-ups?"

"No, it’s fine."

"Then I’ll skip mine and mingle with the guests."

Is she— Oh, she totally is! Evelyn realized. Claire was banking on the Hampton women heading upstairs for touch-ups—ensuring they’d witness Violet and Mason’s relationship firsthand. A staged breakup, cutting off any chance of reconciliation.

She’s already Mason’s sister-in-law and ex. Why can’t she stand him moving on?

Claire was playing the long game, deploying every trick to keep them apart.

"I hope you won't hold it against him," Victoria Hayes murmured, her voice laced with quiet desperation. "He never intended to act like this. There are... complications."

Evelyn Sinclair exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the edge of the polished mahogany desk. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows did little to soften the tension coiling in the air.

"Complications?" Evelyn repeated, her tone edged with skepticism. "That’s what we’re calling it now?"

Victoria hesitated, her perfectly manicured nails tapping an erratic rhythm against her designer handbag. "Nathan isn’t himself lately. You know how he gets when—"

"When he’s backed into a corner?" Evelyn for her, arching a brow. "Oh, I’m well aware."

A heavy silence settled between them, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city below. Evelyn turned her gaze toward the skyline, her mind racing. She had seen the signs—Nathan’s sudden distance, the clipped responses, the way he’d all but vanished from her life overnight.

Victoria cleared her throat delicately. "He’s trying to protect you."

Evelyn scoffed. "From what? Himself?"

The secretary’s lips thinned. "From things you don’t understand."

A bitter laugh escaped Evelyn. "Funny. That’s exactly what he said before he walked out."

Victoria’s expression flickered with something unreadable—guilt? Sympathy? Evelyn couldn’t tell, and she wasn’t sure she cared.

"Just give him time," Victoria urged. "He’ll come around."

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. Time. How much more of it was she expected to give?

She turned back to Victoria, her voice low but unwavering. "Tell Nathan if he wants to explain himself, he can do it to my face. Otherwise, he shouldn’t bother coming back at all."

Victoria opened her mouth to respond, but Evelyn was already striding toward the door, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

Behind her, Victoria sighed, pulling out her phone. A single message flashed on the screen:

"She’s not backing down."

A pause. Then the reply came through:

"Then we’ll have to try harder."