Chapter 190

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 approached her from behind, his presence both comforting and unsettling. "You're thinking too hard," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "How can I not? After everything that's happened—Victoria's schemes, the media frenzy—it's a miracle we're still standing."

Nathan's lips curved into a wry smile. "We always find a way."

She turned to face him, her emerald eyes searching his. "But at what cost? Your family—"

"Is resilient," he interrupted, his voice firm. "Margaret may disapprove, but she'll come around. And Sophia? She's already on your side."

Evelyn bit her lip. "And Julian?"

Nathan's expression darkened. "He'll have to accept it. Whether he likes it or not."

A knock at the door interrupted them. Lillian Graves, Evelyn's ever-efficient assistant, stepped in, her tablet in hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation."

Evelyn tensed. "What now?"

"Vanessa Sterling just gave an interview," Lillian said, her voice tight. "She's claiming Harrison Montgomery never loved Natalie Whitaker and that their marriage was a sham."

Nathan scoffed. "Desperate move."

Evelyn crossed her arms. "Or a calculated one. Vanessa knows exactly what she's doing."

Lillian nodded. "The media's already picking it up. Social media is exploding."

Nathan's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. "Speak of the devil. Maxwell Thornton wants an emergency meeting."

Evelyn sighed. "Of course he does."

Nathan pocketed his phone. "We'll handle this. Together."

She met his gaze, a flicker of determination igniting within her. "Always."

As they strode out, the weight of the world pressing down on them, Evelyn couldn't shake the feeling that the storm was far from over. And this time, the stakes were higher than ever.

The truth hit Evelyn like a tidal wave, leaving her drowning in bitter disappointment.

She was trapped in a marriage she couldn’t escape—not unless Nathan himself initiated the divorce. But knowing Nathan’s unwavering sense of responsibility, even if his feelings for her had faded to nothing, he would never be the one to end things.

Evelyn’s only hope had been Cassandra’s return. She had foolishly believed that with the woman back in the picture, she could finally break free. But reality was crueler than fiction.

Cassandra was no saint.

How could Evelyn, in good conscience, help Cassandra reconcile with Nathan? The Blackwood family had treated her with nothing but kindness. Betraying them would be unforgivable.

So she swallowed her resentment, letting it fester inside her like a poison.

While the others were stunned into silence by Lillian’s revelation, Nathan remained lost in his own brooding thoughts. Meanwhile, Evelyn’s gaze sharpened, her bitterness toward Cassandra growing with every passing second.

Cassandra smirked inwardly. Exactly as planned. Once the truth was out, Evelyn would be too shaken to interfere.

Lowering her head, Cassandra feigned discomfort, her expression a perfect blend of embarrassment and reluctance. It was as if she were silently pleading—I never wanted your pity. I never wanted anyone to know.

"What happened?" someone finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

"She was ill," Lillian explained, her voice laced with sympathy. "Very ill."

"Ill? With what?"

"Was she recovering all these years? No wonder we never heard from her."

"How is she now? Is she better?"

"Why didn’t she just explain back then?"

These were friends who had known Cassandra for years. When she left, her sorrowful departure had convinced them all that she must have had no choice. Yet she had refused to confide in anyone, leaving them in agonizing uncertainty. Over time, news of her vanished entirely. Even Claire was stunned by the revelation.

Perhaps no one expected Cassandra, a woman from such a prestigious family, to spin such an elaborate lie. And so, they believed her without question.

Evelyn nearly laughed out loud in sheer frustration. If only she really had been deathly ill! Her so-called "sanitarium stay" had been nothing more than a calculated move to ingratiate herself with the aristocracy by caring for their elderly. Lillian is such a fool, swallowing every word Cassandra feeds her.

Then it clicked.

This was all for Nathan’s benefit. Cassandra was playing the victim, hoping to manipulate his guilt and sympathy. Oh, please. Keep acting. No one does it better than you.

Years ago, she had staged her dramatic exit, ensuring everyone believed she was the wounded party. And that exclusive sanitarium? A perfect cover—aristocratic discretion guaranteed no one would ever expose her lies.

Evelyn clenched her fists. Not this time.

The gossip hadn’t ruined my plans—if anything, I should have been enjoying it. But now, all I wanted was to scream into the void.

Evelyn studied the reactions of those around her and nearly choked on her wine when she realized they were all falling for Cassandra’s act.

Her gaze flickered toward Nathan. He was eating with a deep frown, completely detached from the conversation, his expression unreadable.

Because of her illness, the ex-girlfriend had no choice but to break up with him—she didn’t want to see him suffer. So she vanished, seeking treatment. Now that she’s back, she finds him already married, and all they can do is exchange silent, longing glances. Hah. Nathan doesn’t know the truth. He’ll definitely be fooled.

When Nathan caught Evelyn’s thoughts, his eyes darkened with something unreadable. She cares. Maybe she’ll actually do something to stop me from being deceived.

The mere possibility sent his pulse racing.

But then Evelyn’s next thought shattered that hope.

Out of pity, I might warn Nathan that Cassandra isn’t as perfect as she seems. But since all my intel comes from the system, I can’t explain it properly. In the end, I’ll just look like a jealous wife trying to stir up drama. Cassandra’s already cemented her tragic heroine image. Eventually, they’ll reconcile, and I’ll be the discarded villainess—no alimony, no dignity, just public scorn. Ugh. This is so cliché it hurts.

Nathan’s grip tightened around his fork. How the hell did your brain even get there?

Evelyn’s mental monologue continued, Sorry, Nathan, but self-preservation wins. At most, I won’t enable a snake. If you fall for the wrong woman, that’s your karma. I’m just here for the tea.

Nathan’s jaw clenched. You are my karma.

Evelyn mentally dusted off her hands, satisfied she’d navigated the minefield. The best move now was to sit back and let fate unfold.

But Nathan was this close to snapping. If he weren’t terrified that exposing her mind-reading ability might harm her, he’d have dragged her into a private room and demanded answers.

The room’s atmosphere shifted abruptly. A chill rolled off Nathan, sharp enough to make the others stiffen.

In all their years knowing him, Nathan had always been the picture of control—unshakable, unreadable. Yet now, his turmoil was palpable. They assumed it was because of Cassandra’s heartbreaking confession.

A few pitiful glances slid toward Evelyn. If Cassandra truly had no choice but to leave… and if Nathan’s this affected… their marriage might not last.

Just as the thought settled, Nathan’s burning gaze locked onto Evelyn.

While he seethed over her indifference, the others drew their own conclusions.

The spectators exchanged knowing glances, convinced their assumptions were right—Nathan must be drowning in remorse toward Evelyn. Whispers spread like wildfire—had Nathan really given up on Evelyn so easily?

Cassandra's lips curled in triumph, her heart racing with anticipation.

Evelyn felt the weight of Nathan's gaze upon her. When their eyes met, his dark irises swirled like midnight storms, threatening to consume her entire world. Her pulse quickened inexplicably.

Under his intense scrutiny, Evelyn squirmed with sudden guilt. "W-What is it?"

Nathan, never one to falter, swiftly regained his composure. "You've got something here."

With deliberate slowness, he plucked a linen napkin from the table. His fingers brushed the corner of her mouth, wiping away a trace of sauce with featherlight precision. The intimacy of the gesture created an invisible bubble around them, shutting out the gawking crowd.

Evelyn froze. So did everyone else.

Had this happened moments earlier, the room would've buzzed with theories about Nathan deliberately provoking Cassandra. But now? The timing made zero sense.

Baffled murmurs rippled through the gathering. Since when does Nathan dote on his wife like this? Even strangers would react to such explosive news—especially when it involved his ex! Yet here he was, fussing over a speck of sauce instead of grappling with emotional turmoil.

What game is he playing? Evelyn's mind whirled. After hearing something that monumental, shouldn't he at least look conflicted? Distracted? Anything but... this! Her confusion must have shown, because Nathan's eyes gleamed with something dangerously close to amusement.

He leaned infinitesimally closer, practically begging her to peek into his thoughts. If words won't convince her, he mused, let her see the truth for herself.

Normally, Evelyn respected mental boundaries, skimming only surface-level gossip from acquaintances. But curiosity burned through her restraint. Maybe he zoned out earlier? Could he have missed the entire bombshell? Steeling herself, she reached out with her ability—and stiffened.

Huh?!