Chapter 8

"Oh my, Isabella, are you alright?" Olivia gasped, though a small laugh escaped her lips.

Nathaniel rushed over immediately, bending down to help Isabella up from the pavement, but she refused to budge. "Nathan, I'm in so much pain—hold me," she whimpered dramatically, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her knees.

Evelyn stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the scene with icy detachment.

Isabella—always the damsel in distress whenever Nathaniel was around.

"Nathan, Ms. Evelyn pushed me!"

She buried her face in his chest, shooting Evelyn a venomous glare.

"Isabella, what did you just say?" Nathaniel stiffened, his voice laced with disbelief.

"You're seriously accusing me of pushing you?" Evelyn scoffed, unimpressed by the theatrics.

"You think I just fell on my own?" Isabella's usually sweet voice turned shrill with indignation.

"Wouldn't be the first time. You look like a strong breeze could knock you over."

"Are you wishing death upon me?!" Isabella's face flushed crimson. "I felt you shove me when I walked past! How dare you deny it?"

"Ms. Isabella, this is the age of surveillance. Cameras are everywhere—you can't just spew nonsense."

Evelyn's gaze darkened, her presence commanding. "If I find proof, I'll sue you for slander."

Nathaniel's pupils dilated. This wasn’t the meek wife who had waited alone in their empty mansion.

Isabella shrank under Evelyn’s intimidating aura, quickly turning to Olivia for backup.

"Oh dear, it's all just a misunderstanding!"

Olivia subtly glanced at the security camera overhead. "Isabella must have tripped and accidentally bumped into Evelyn. She thought it was intentional—just a silly mistake!"

"Isabella, did you really just trip?" Nathaniel's voice turned cold as he studied the woman clinging to him.

"I thought she pushed me..."

His expression hardened.

Panicked, Isabella blurted, "If she hadn’t moved out of the way, I wouldn’t have fallen! She did it on purpose! And my bracelet—it's broken! It was a family heirloom! If it weren’t for her, it would still be intact!"

She sniffled dramatically. "Ms. Evelyn, I know you're bitter about the divorce, but taking it out on me? Is it my fault your marriage failed?"

Evelyn arched a brow. "First of all, I'm not bitter. In fact, I should thank you for freeing me from misery—no more waiting up all night for someone who never came home."

Nathaniel's jaw tightened.

"Second, if that bracelet was truly an heirloom, you should be thanking me."

She picked up the broken pieces. "It's fake."

"What?!" Isabella gasped. Even Olivia looked stunned.

"Cheap crystals. Wearing them long-term exposes you to toxins that seep into your bloodstream."

Evelyn tossed the fragments into the trash, her diamond bracelet—a gift from Nathaniel’s grandfather—gleaming mockingly.

"Mr. Prescott, if you're going to be with Ms. Isabella, at least buy her real jewelry."

"Evelyn." His voice held a warning.

"There’s a crystal frog on my old vanity at the mansion. Feel free to take it—maybe you can make another bracelet." She dusted her hands off as if touching the fake jewelry had dirtied them.

Frog?!

The insult was crystal clear.

Isabella seethed, but Evelyn was already walking away.

Outside the hospital, Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Isabella’s shocked face.

"Evelyn."

Nathaniel’s deep voice made her turn. A breeze lifted her hair, framing her face beautifully as he approached.

"Something else, Mr. Prescott?" Her tone was frosty. "If Ms. Isabella is still upset about her bracelet, tell her I’ll buy her a dozen at the flea market tomorrow."

"Earlier, in the ward, you told Grandpa—"

"Don’t overthink it. I just didn’t want to upset him." Her expression softened slightly at the mention of Mr. Kingsley.

"Then we’re even."

She blinked.

"You lied about your identity. I won’t tell Grandpa or anyone in the Kingsley family. Consider it settled." His gaze was unreadable.

Evelyn’s eyes widened. Was he serious?

"But you have to tell me—why did you marry me under a false name?" He stepped closer. "No, better question—what were you after when you approached Grandpa with a fake identity?"

Her pulse spiked. She stepped back—

And nearly tumbled down the stairs behind her.

Strong hands steadied her.

Their eyes locked. Evelyn’s cheeks flushed. Nathaniel looked oddly flustered.

Even now, he was devastatingly handsome.

Thirteen years ago, at eleven years old, trapped in darkness, she’d never forget the boy who saved her life.

The Nathaniel now? He hurt her just by existing.

She pushed away, regaining her balance.

"Thanks."

"Answer my question."

"I’m not your wife anymore. I don’t owe you explanations."

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist.

"We haven’t finalized the divorce. Legally, you’re still my wife. So you will tell me who you really are."

"I have nothing to say!"

Her chest heaved, eyes glistening. "You talk about obligations? That’s rich. You failed as a husband for three years—what right do you have to demand anything from me?"

"Evelyn, even if you don’t tell me, I’ll find out."

He yanked her close, their breaths mingling.

He rarely lost his temper, but this woman—ever since she left, she’d been pushing every button he had.

The audacity.

"Then go investigate. Why bother asking me?"

She wrenched free and strode off without looking back.

Nathaniel watched her retreating figure—her sharp red lips, those lethal stilettos—his chest tightening inexplicably.

Since when had she become like this?

Was it to appeal to him?

This cunning woman. Why did Grandpa adore her so much?

"Mr. Prescott! Ms. Isabella says she twisted her ankle—she’s crying and wants you!" Gordon panted as he caught up.

The roar of an engine cut through the air.

A sleek black Bugatti La Volture Noire sped past, its driver—Evelyn—wearing oversized sunglasses, her smirk visible as she zoomed away.

"Mrs. Kingsley is—a secret heiress?!" Gordon’s jaw dropped.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened.

"After her." His voice was steel.