Chapter 258

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. She sipped her lavender-infused tea, her mind wandering to the events of last night's gala—where Nathan Blackwood had been unusually attentive.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant: "The Blackwood Group just finalized the merger. Also, Victoria Hayes was seen leaving Nathan's office in tears. Again."

Evelyn smirked. Victoria, Nathan's scheming secretary, had been trying—and failing—to claw her way into his life for years. But what truly piqued Evelyn's interest was the unspoken drama she could hear in people's minds—a gift (or curse) she'd had since childhood.

She closed her eyes, tuning into the mental chatter around the city.

"If Nathan finds out I leaked those documents—" Victoria's panicked thoughts sliced through the mental noise.

"Sophia Blackwood is hiding something about her husband’s affair. Should I tell Nathan?" That was Serena Whitmore, Evelyn’s sharp-witted agent, always collecting secrets like rare gems.

Then, the most intriguing whisper of all—Nathan’s own voice, laced with frustration: "Why can’t I stop thinking about Evelyn?"

Her breath hitched.

A knock at the door interrupted her eavesdropping. Speak of the devil—Nathan stood there, his tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders, his storm-gray eyes dark with an emotion she couldn’t place.

"Evelyn," he said, voice rough. "We need to talk."

She arched a brow. "About Victoria’s latest meltdown? Or the fact that your sister’s husband is embezzling from your company?"

His jaw tightened. "How do you—"

She tapped her temple, smirking. "Trade secret."

Nathan stepped closer, his cologne—sandalwood and something dangerously addictive—wrapping around her. "Then you already know why I’m here."

Her pulse spiked. She did know. She’d heard it in his thoughts, felt it in the way his gaze lingered. But some games were more fun played out loud.

"Enlighten me," she challenged.

He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "You’re the only one who doesn’t need me to say it."

And just like that, Evelyn realized—she might’ve been reading minds her whole life, but Nathan Blackwood? He was the one mystery she couldn’t solve.

The crowd was stunned into silence as the two women spoke in perfect unison, their voices harmonizing in an unexpected alliance against Grayson.

It was uncanny. Not only did they share an almost identical appearance, but even their mannerisms when berating someone were eerily similar.

Fascinating didn’t even begin to cover it.

Grayson, however, was visibly rattled. He had always been unsure of his place in Vivian’s heart, but how could Gwendolyn—a young woman still in university—possibly not harbor feelings for him?

"How could you not like me?" His voice was laced with desperation as he grasped for any shred of proof. "You stayed by my side for so long. If you didn’t care, why would you agree to be someone else’s stand-in?"

The onlookers murmured in agreement. After all, no one would willingly endure such a role unless they had feelings—or ulterior motives. If she had wanted status, why refuse his offer now?

But if she had loved him, why was she treating him like this?

The crowd was thoroughly perplexed.

Gwendolyn scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Since you brought it up, I might as well clarify. Our arrangement was strictly professional. You hired me—five hundred thousand a month to impersonate Vivian. It was a job, nothing more. If the orphanage hadn’t been struggling, I wouldn’t have taken it. So tell me, Grayson, where in that contract did it say I had to fall for you?"

She arched a brow. "Or are you upset because I was too convincing? Because I did my job too well?" A cold smile curved her lips. "Our contract ended. Yet here you are, still harassing me. Pathetic, don’t you think?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

They had assumed Gwendolyn had been clinging to Grayson for personal gain. But this? A paid arrangement?

"No way… Did Mr. Hart really forget he hired her?"

"That explains why she left so fast. She was just collecting a paycheck!"

"Honestly, the way she’s acting now makes perfect sense. It’s like running into an ex-boss you can’t stand."

"Mr. Hart actually thought they’d fight over him? I’m dying."

"I always knew he was arrogant, but this is next-level delusional."

A pause. Then someone whispered, "Wait… so out of the three, is Lila the only one who actually likes him?"

The room erupted into stifled laughter.

Grayson’s face darkened.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

Not at all.

The entire scene had been nothing but a carefully orchestrated performance, hadn't it? The thought alone sent waves of amusement through me, and I couldn’t suppress a laugh.

The crowd around us was thoroughly entertained, their whispers and chuckles filling the air.

Grayson’s friends, however, looked as if they wanted to disappear. After all, he had boasted endlessly in front of them, painting himself as some untouchable heartthrob. Their previous pity for Gwendolyn—the poor, lovestruck assistant hopelessly devoted to a man who would never return her feelings—had now twisted into something far more humiliating.

None of them had known the truth. That Grayson had paid for every single one of those staged affections.

The realization left them torn between secondhand embarrassment and simmering anger. None of them could bear to look at Grayson now, yet the irony of his self-inflicted downfall was almost too delicious to ignore.

Evelyn was practically vibrating with glee.

Finally! The truth is out! Oh, this is too good!

Nathan quickly wrapped an arm around Evelyn, who was practically bouncing in her seat with unrestrained laughter. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, bright as stars against the dim lighting of the venue.

For a fleeting moment, Nathan found himself lost in them. A shame, really, that such brilliance wasn’t directed at him.

Meanwhile, Grayson stood frozen, his mind still reeling from Gwendolyn’s sudden confession.

In his mind, the money had been nothing more than a transaction—a way to keep her at arm’s length, to ensure she never developed real feelings for him. A paltry sum, really, barely worth a second thought.

But he hadn’t considered that for someone like her, desperation could make even the most degrading roles tolerable.

He had assumed the money was just a convenient excuse between them, a way to avoid messy emotions.

How wrong he had been.

Every assumption, every smug certainty—it had all been nothing but his own delusion.

And now, even a fool could see the raw disgust in Gwendolyn’s eyes as she looked at him.

Humiliation burned through him, quickly followed by a surge of fury. But what enraged him most was the realization that he had been the one to fall for her.

Grayson lunged forward, intent on confronting her, demanding answers. He needed to hear her say it—that she had never cared for him, not even a little. He couldn’t accept this.

But Vivian stepped smoothly into his path, blocking him.

“Why…?” Grayson’s voice cracked. “You were supposed to hate her. I made you hate her!”

Vivian’s expression didn’t waver. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you?”

Grayson flinched as if struck.

“Let me make this crystal clear,” Vivian continued, her voice sharp as a blade. “From the very beginning, you were the only one playing these disgusting games. And yet, you still expected us to fight over you? To worship the ground you walked on?” She scoffed. “You’re nothing but trash. Neither of us has ever wanted you. We loathe you. And if you take one more step toward either of us, I swear I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Grayson’s eyes burned red with fury.

But for the first time, no one was looking at him with admiration.

Only pity.

The moment Grayson's eyes landed on Vivian shielding Gwendolyn protectively, his blood ran cold. Vivian’s stance was unyielding, as if she were guarding a priceless treasure. A horrifying thought struck him like lightning, leaving him breathless with shock. "You—you can't possibly be in love with her, can you? That's why you're both ganging up on me!"

The more Grayson dwelled on it, the more furious he became. It felt like betrayal all over again—twice in one lifetime.

The murmurs around them ceased instantly.

Hah! Is he serious? His imagination knows no bounds.

Evelyn nearly choked on her laughter, burying her face in Nathan’s chest to muffle her giggles.

Nathan, however, tensed. The unresolved matter of their familial ties still hung between them. This wasn’t the time or place for such revelations, but now—

The stifled snickers around Grayson made it clear no one bought his theory. Enraged, he snapped, "You’ve always preferred women—you admitted it yourself! Since when do you cozy up to someone you just met? Back then, you couldn’t stand people copying you, let alone someone who looks like your mirror image. Defending her? That’s suspicious as hell. Do you like her? Is that it?"

His wild accusations planted seeds of doubt.

After all, Vivian’s fierce defense of Gwendolyn wasn’t just about goodwill or justice. It was… unusual.

Eyes darted between Vivian and Gwendolyn, speculation thickening the air.

Vivian had been accused of many things—infidelity, coldness—but never this. She wasn’t into women, and she certainly didn’t recall ever claiming otherwise. If she had, it must’ve been a throwaway comment.

"Seriously, Grayson," Vivian said dryly, "get your delusions checked."

"Then why are you so damn protective of her?" Grayson shot back, voice trembling with fury. "We’ve known each other for years. We were together. You—"

The unspoken accusation hung heavy: Vivian, who always stood by those she trusted, should’ve defended him. Not Gwendolyn. Even Evelyn hadn’t intervened.

There was only one explanation: Vivian and Gwendolyn shared something far deeper.