Chapter 251

The tension in the room was palpable as Evelyn Sinclair stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of Nathan Blackwood’s penthouse, her fingers tracing the condensation on the glass. Outside, the city lights flickered like distant stars, but her mind was far from serene.

Nathan’s voice, low and measured, broke the silence. "You knew this would happen, Evelyn."

She turned to face him, her emerald eyes flashing with defiance. "I didn’t know anything, Nathan. You’re the one who kept secrets."

His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking beneath his stubble. "Secrets? Or necessary precautions?"

Evelyn scoffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, please. You don’t get to play the martyr here. Not after what you did."

Before Nathan could retort, the door burst open, and Victoria Hayes stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "Well, isn’t this cozy?" she drawled, her crimson lips curling into a smirk.

Evelyn’s spine stiffened. "What do you want, Victoria?"

Victoria’s gaze flicked between them, amusement dancing in her cold eyes. "Just thought I’d check in. After all, the whole company is buzzing about your little… disagreement."

Nathan’s expression darkened. "This doesn’t concern you."

"Oh, but it does," Victoria purred, stepping closer. "Especially when it affects my projects."

Evelyn’s phone buzzed in her pocket. A glance at the screen made her breath hitch—Serena Whitmore’s name flashed with an urgent message: "They’ve moved up the deadline. We need to act now."

Nathan noticed her reaction. "Problem?"

She slipped the phone back into her pocket, forcing calm into her voice. "Nothing I can’t handle."

Victoria laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. "Oh, this is rich. The great Evelyn Sinclair, scrambling to keep up."

Evelyn’s patience snapped. "Get out, Victoria."

Victoria feigned offense, pressing a hand to her chest. "Such hostility. Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you." With a final smirk, she sauntered out, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.

Nathan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "We need to talk."

Evelyn shook her head. "No. What we need is to focus on damage control before this spirals out of hand."

His eyes bore into hers, unyielding. "And what if it already has?"

The question hung between them, heavy with implications. Evelyn’s pulse quickened. She had no answer—only the gnawing certainty that the game had just gotten far more dangerous.

Somewhere in the city, unseen forces were moving. And if they didn’t act fast, everything they’d built would crumble.

Across the room, Grayson found himself utterly disarmed by Vivian's sharp retort, savoring the bittersweet torment she inflicted. His attention had completely abandoned Lila—proof that Vivian remained his greatest weakness.

No wonder Grayson couldn't shake her from his thoughts. Men never easily release what they can't conquer. It's not always love—sometimes it's the unattainable that lingers most. As for Lila? She'd brought this upon herself. Had she not provoked the storm, she wouldn't be drowning in its aftermath.

Evelyn arched a brow, refusing to let Vivian bear the battle alone.

"Speaking of which," Evelyn cut in sharply, "we haven't settled our earlier matter. Ms. Carter, you attempted to drag an innocent through the mud without cause. Don't you owe her an apology? We're all equals here—no crowns, no thrones. Surely someone raised with manners understands basic decency?" Her gaze hardened. "Two offenses. One apology."

Lila hadn't anticipated this second adversary shattering her plans. For the first time, she tasted the metallic sting of being cornered. Her glare at Gwendolyn burned with indignant fury.

While Vivian and Evelyn were forces she couldn't challenge, it baffled her that they'd champion some lowly service girl over her.

"So what if I nudged her?" Lila scoffed, chin lifted. "And the wine? Spilled liquid, not blood. I'll compensate her—name your price." The words dripped with condescension. She'd rather walk through fire than apologize to such beneath her.

Gwendolyn straightened under Evelyn and Vivian's protective stance. Though fear of powerful retaliation still coiled in her stomach, she wouldn't dishonor their defense by caving.

"I don't want your money," Gwendolyn declared, voice steady.

"You—!" Lila's composure cracked. "Don't test me!"

"She said no money," Vivian snapped. "Apologize. Now."

A hush fell over their corner of the room.

Lila's cheeks flamed scarlet, ears burning. Humiliation and rage boiled over. "You think she's worth my apology?"

With that, she spun toward escape—a tactical retreat when battles turn against you.

But wrongdoing never walks away unscathed.

Reading Evelyn's unspoken resolve, Nathan knew Lila wouldn't leave unchallenged.

"Lila!" Evelyn's voice rang out.

The woman turned—just in time for Evelyn to seize a wineglass and hurl its contents straight at her face.

The next moment, Evelyn let out a sharp gasp that cut through the air like shattered glass.

Silence.

Everyone froze. No one had ever witnessed Gwendolyn Brooks exhibit such raw power before. Then it hit them—rumors about the Sinclair family's unconventional heiress weren't exaggerated after all.

Sidelong glances darted toward Nathan Blackwood, anticipating outrage. Instead, his expression remained unreadable, as if this spectacle was entirely expected.

Vivian Moore caught on instantly and flashed Gwendolyn an approving grin.

Grayson Hart stood too close to Lila Carter. When the wine hit his face, his entire body jerked in shock.

Lila's scream dissolved into incoherent rage. "Have you lost your mind?" she shrieked, mascara bleeding down her cheeks.

"Just a spilled drink," Evelyn countered smoothly, echoing Lila's earlier dismissal. "Why the drama?"

"You're doing this for her?" Lila's voice cracked with disbelief.

Evelyn's lips curled. "I warned you. Touch my people, and you answer to me. Seems you enjoy learning things the hard way."

Lila's glare could've ignited the champagne tower.

"Got a problem?" Evelyn tilted her head toward Nathan. "Take it up with him."

The crowd held their breath. Defending a random fan was one thing, but provoking industry connections? Would the infamous Blackwood heir really indulge such recklessness?

Nathan gave a solemn nod. "Charge it to my account."

Jaws dropped.

Evelyn smirked. "Told you."

Lila exploded. "You're insane! Who do you think you are, meddling in—"

Nathan's voice turned arctic. "Care to repeat that?"

Lila shuddered but stood her ground. "Mr. Blackwood, surely you don't condone this? Your wife just assaulted me!"

"Assault?" Nathan arched a brow. "She was balancing the scales. You started this; she's finishing it."

Lila gaped, speechless.

Onlookers exchanged stunned glances. This wasn't the ruthless businessman they knew. Since when did Nathan Blackwood become the type to enable his wife's chaos without limits?

Yet the truth was undeniable—neither Lila nor Grayson held leverage against him. If the Blackwoods weren't afraid of burning bridges, who were they to object?

Many women present felt a pang of envy. They'd assumed Nathan's legendary indifference made him emotionally unavailable. Now? The man was rewriting the rules of devotion.

Nathan's inner circle barely blinked. They'd learned the pattern: whenever their friend acted out of character, Evelyn Sinclair was always the variable.

Tears streamed down Lila's wine-stained face as Grayson finally snapped out of his daze. His expression darkened—this mess threatened his precarious balance between Vivian and Gwendolyn.

"Enough," he growled, grabbing Lila's arm. "We're leaving."

Lila wrenched free. "You're choosing them over me? After everything?"

Grayson's patience snapped. "There was never a 'you and me.' Stop deluding yourself. Today's embarrassment is on you."

He walked away without a backward glance, leaving Lila trembling in his wake.

As the drama dissipated, the poolside ambiance lightened considerably.

"Thank you," Gwendolyn murmured, bowing to Vivian and Evelyn.

Vivian waved her off. "Save the formalities. Consider yourself under my protection now. Anyone messes with that face, they answer to me."

Evelyn was about to respond when she noticed something—angry red splotches marring Gwendolyn's neck. Not blushing. Not irritation.

Something far more concerning.