Chapter 38

The penthouse was eerily silent as Evelyn Sinclair paced the marble floors, her stiletto heels clicking like a ticking time bomb. Outside, Manhattan glittered beneath a stormy sky, the city lights flickering like distant warnings. She clutched her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Nathan Blackwood's last text burned in her mind: "We need to talk. It's about Cassandra."

Her assistant, Lillian Graves, hovered near the bar cart, pouring two fingers of bourbon. "You should sit down," she murmured, pushing the glass toward Evelyn. "Whatever it is, you'll handle it. You always do."

Evelyn downed the amber liquid in one swallow, the burn doing nothing to quell the icy dread pooling in her stomach. Cassandra—Nathan's childhood sweetheart, the ghost who'd haunted their relationship from the start.

The elevator dinged.

Nathan stepped out, his usually impeccable suit rumpled, his dark hair windswept. Raindrops glistened on his trench coat like shattered diamonds. His storm-gray eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, Evelyn knew.

"It wasn't just a crush," he said hoarsely, running a hand through his hair. "We had a child."

The glass slipped from Evelyn's fingers, shattering on the floor like her carefully constructed world.

Across town, Victoria Hayes smirked as she scrolled through the encrypted photos on her tablet—grainy but unmistakable. A younger Nathan, his arm around a smiling Cassandra, a toddler with Nathan's eyes between them.

"Perfect," she purred, forwarding the files to an anonymous blog. "Let's see how perfect Evelyn Sinclair's life really is."

Meanwhile, in a quiet brownstone, Cassandra Whitmore tucked a sleeping boy into bed, brushing curls from his forehead. The same curls Nathan used to have. She jumped when her doorbell rang.

Through the peephole, Serena Whitmore's furious face filled her vision. "You had one job," Serena hissed as Cassandra opened the door. "Stay hidden. Stay gone."

Cassandra's hands trembled. "He found out, didn't he?"

Serena's silence was answer enough.

Back at the penthouse, Evelyn finally found her voice. "How old?" she whispered.

"Seven," Nathan admitted, shoulders slumping. "I didn't know until today. My mother—"

"Margaret knew?" Evelyn's laugh was razor-sharp. "Of course she did."

Nathan reached for her, but she stepped back, the movement sending a crystal vase crashing to the floor. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

Outside, lightning split the sky. The storm had arrived.

And so had the paparazzi—flashing cameras illuminating the building like strobe lights as Victoria's leak went viral.

Evelyn watched her reflection fracture in the rain-streaked windows. The perfect actress. The perfect fiancée. The perfect lie.

Somewhere in the chaos, her phone buzzed. An unknown number. A single photo attachment: Nathan holding the boy's hand outside a school, his smile brighter than she'd ever seen.

The caption: "Meet your replacement."

Evelyn's vision blurred. The game had changed.

And she? She was done playing by the rules.

Celeste stood frozen, her lips parting in shock. "That's impossible!"

"She got it from Vincent," Julian revealed, his expression darkening instantly. "I only just found out, but everything I told you last night was true. If you don't believe me, I'll take the test right now."

Celeste's shock melted into mortification.

At that moment, the lab manager seemed to recall something crucial. His face paled, and he hurried away without another word.

The other researchers exchanged glances as realization struck. "Wait—so that syringe she was holding… That wasn’t just any liquid, was it? It was blood! She was planning to—"

Their horrified gazes snapped to Julian.

Her target was Julian last night, but now it’s Celeste? Evelyn thought, shaking her head. This woman is completely unhinged.

Julian scoffed. "Who knows what she’s capable of? From now on, none of us should let our guard down around her."

Celeste remained dazed, struggling to process how things had spiraled so far out of control.

Since this was a deliberate assault case, they were all required to stay for police questioning before being allowed to leave.

Julian’s wound was deep enough to require stitches, so he was rushed to the hospital, accompanied by Marcus.

When Evelyn stepped out of the police station, her eyes landed on a tall, imposing figure leaning against a sleek black sedan. The man wore a tailored charcoal overcoat, the crisp lines of a black suit visible beneath it.

Every inch of him exuded precision—his posture rigid, his gaze sharp under thick lashes as he watched the station’s entrance with unwavering focus.

Though Evelyn didn’t harbor romantic feelings for Nathan, she couldn’t deny the immediate sense of safety his presence brought.

She quickened her pace toward him—but he was already closing the distance between them. His long strides ate up the pavement, and within seconds, he was in front of her, scanning her from head to toe.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was low, edged with concern.

Evelyn shook her head. "Not a scratch. What are you doing here? I thought Marcus arranged for a lawyer to handle everything. Once Julian’s stitched up, he can be discharged. Didn’t Marcus tell you?"

Nathan’s shoulders relaxed slightly when he confirmed she was unharmed. "I couldn’t reach him. He’s still under anesthesia."

"Should we head to the hospital now?" Evelyn asked.

Nathan gave a single, firm nod.

Evelyn called out to Lillian and spotted Celeste striding toward them. The latter turned to Nathan and said, "I'm sorry. Julian got hurt because of me..."

"I already know what happened. It wasn't your fault," Nathan replied in his usual composed tone. "Protecting others is his responsibility as a man. Ms. Celeste, don’t overthink it. This won’t affect our investment deal either."

Evelyn glanced at Nathan, slightly surprised. He was clearly trying to ease Celeste’s guilt—she had just rejected Julian, and now he’d risked his life for her. Nathan didn’t want her feeling pressured to reconsider out of obligation.

Celeste understood his meaning and lowered her gaze.

Thinking of his reckless younger brother, Nathan spoke again. "We’re heading to the hospital to pick Julian up. Would you like to come?"

After all, Julian had nearly died for her. Nathan hoped her presence might lift his spirits.

This time, Celeste didn’t hesitate. But just as she was about to nod, her phone rang.

The number was unfamiliar, but the moment she answered, Edward’s furious voice blasted through the speaker.

She had long blocked the Cowells’ contacts, so he must have borrowed someone else’s phone.

"Celeste, you ungrateful wretch! First, you abandon your family, and now you’ve dragged Isabelle into danger! You knew she was fragile, yet you got involved with a violent man and let her take the hit for you! Do you really hate her so much that you’d let her die for your mistakes? Get here now and face what you’ve done!" Edward roared.

Penelope’s frantic voice chimed in, their words tumbling over each other as if afraid Celeste would hang up.

The urgency in their voices made Celeste’s stomach twist.

It felt like a nightmare coming back to life.

Nathan’s expression darkened as he listened. "Edward and Penelope are probably looking for someone to blame. I suggest you return with your team and focus on the investment report. Ignore them. You’ve cut ties—this isn’t your problem anymore."

Julian’s eyes brightened instantly.

At least she’s reasonable, Evelyn mused silently.

Julian shot her a glare. Mind your own business.

Nathan, overhearing, sighed.

"Why didn’t she come, then?" Marcus asked, curious.

"Because Edward and Penelope are at the same hospital," Nathan said flatly.

Julian’s face darkened. "Are they blaming Celeste for this? Trying to bully her again?"

"Worse," Evelyn nearly scoffed. "They want to use her as spare parts."

Julian’s expression turned thunderous, startling Marcus. What the hell is going on?

Nathan frowned, listening to Evelyn’s silent tirade.

Isabelle had been stabbed three times. Edward and Penelope were desperate to summon Celeste because two wounds had damaged her kidneys. Isabelle had always had weak organs, and now both kidneys were injured. While not immediately life-threatening, she’d need long-term care—or a transplant.

And they knew exactly who they wanted it from.

The damage was irreversible. That much was clear. So Edward and Penelope had coldly decided this was their golden opportunity—to force Celeste to donate a healthy kidney to Isabelle. They'd even inquired about skin transplantation. The brutal attack had left Isabelle's face disfigured beyond recognition, requiring extensive reconstructive surgery. But Isabelle's weakened body couldn't withstand such procedures. Naturally, their solution was to harvest skin from Celeste.

Twins meant zero rejection risks—the perfect medical match. What twisted parents. As if their children's bodies were communal property to be divided at will. Disgusting didn't even begin to cover it.

Evelyn was still seething internally when Julian suddenly launched himself from the hospital bed.

"Julian!" Marcus gasped, nearly dropping his tablet.

Nathan's brow furrowed. "Stay down. I'll deal with this."

But Julian was already storming toward the door, injured arm be damned. His eyes burned with barely contained fury. "It's just a flesh wound. I'm not paralyzed. To hell with waiting—I'm ending this now!"

Before anyone could react, he'd vanished into the hallway like a vengeful shadow.