Chapter 195

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the plush carpet of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse as she clutched her phone, her knuckles white. The headline glared back at her: Nathan Blackwood Spotted with Mystery Woman at Exclusive Gala—Who Is She?

Her chest tightened.

Just last night, Nathan had whispered promises against her skin, his lips tracing the curve of her shoulder. "You're the only one, Evelyn."

And now this.

A knock at the door startled her. Lillian Graves, her ever-loyal assistant, stepped in, her expression grim. "You’ve seen the news?"

Evelyn forced a laugh, brittle as glass. "Hard to miss."

Lillian hesitated. "There’s more. The woman—she’s not just anyone. It’s Vanessa Sterling."

The name struck like a blade. Harrison Montgomery’s mistress. The same woman tangled in last year’s explosive cheating scandal.

Evelyn’s phone buzzed—Nathan. Again.

She swiped to ignore, her mind racing. Was this his way of punishing her for refusing to move in with him? Or worse—had she been a fool all along?

Across town, Nathan Blackwood paced his office, his usual composure shattered. "Damn it, Marcus," he growled at his agent. "How did this leak?"

Marcus Donovan exhaled sharply. "Paparazzi got lucky. But that’s not the real problem. Vanessa’s claiming you two had a private conversation. About Evelyn."

Nathan’s blood ran cold.

Because the truth was far worse than a staged photo.

Vanessa had approached him—with an ultimatum. "Leave Evelyn, or I’ll expose what really happened in Monte Carlo."

And that secret could destroy everything.

Evelyn’s phone lit up with an unknown number. The message was brief:

"Ask Nathan about the fire. Then decide if he’s worth your heart."

The screen blurred as her vision swam.

Somewhere, a clock was ticking.

And love might not survive the truth.

Nathan Blackwood's declaration hung heavy in the air, plunging the entire table into stunned silence.

For a long moment, Cassandra trembled, her wide eyes locked on Nathan in disbelief. She had never expected him to dismiss their past so coldly.

The implications were crystal clear—she had never been his first love, and their relationship had never been the bittersweet romance everyone imagined. It was all just an illusion, a story spun by whispers and wishful thinking.

The revelation sent shockwaves through the room. If this was the truth, then what else had been fabricated? Had everything they thought they knew about Nathan and Cassandra been nothing more than a carefully constructed lie?

The murmurs spread like wildfire. Guests at nearby tables leaned in, exchanging hushed whispers.

"Wait… so their whole 'perfect couple' image was just gossip?"

"Now that I think about it, I don’t remember ever seeing them actually together on campus. No hand-holding, no stolen kisses—nothing."

"Nathan never even looked heartbroken after their breakup. I thought he was just good at hiding it, but… he really didn’t care?"

"All those love stories we believed in—they were just fairy tales. I feel so stupid."

Even Evelyn Sinclair couldn’t hold back her shock. Had Nathan truly never loved Cassandra? Were all the dramatic details Victoria Hayes had shared just fabrications? Had she, too, been fooled by the rumors? No wonder the rest of the Blackwood family rarely mentioned Cassandra. They probably knew the truth all along—that Nathan had never been serious about her.

Nathan paused, realization dawning on him. So this is why Evelyn stubbornly believed Cassandra was my first love and that our marriage was doomed. Even when I tried to explain, she pretended to believe me, but deep down, she was convinced I was lying. Victoria must have fed her endless gossip, painting Cassandra as his tragic lost love. And Evelyn, with her vivid imagination, had taken those stories and run with them.

But the truth was far simpler—he had never loved Cassandra. Not then, not now.

What a colossal misunderstanding. Evelyn’s mind reeled. Does this mean the drama I’ve been waiting for… never even existed?

A slow, satisfied smirk curved Nathan’s lips as relief washed over him.

Around the table, stunned faces turned from Nathan to Cassandra, struggling to process the truth.

Nathan’s gaze swept over them, his expression firm. This wasn’t just about correcting the past—it was about making one thing undeniably clear.

He was defending Evelyn. And he wouldn’t let anyone—especially not Cassandra—twist the truth again.

In the past, Nathan had only fulfilled his obligations toward Evelyn in a detached, mechanical manner—something his inner circle could easily discern. While they weren't openly hostile toward her, their indifference spoke volumes. After all, she was the woman who had manipulated their closest friend. Even if Cassandra had never existed, they wouldn’t have shown Evelyn any genuine respect.

Yet when Nathan reappeared in such a formal setting with Evelyn at his side, the message was unmistakable: she mattered to him now.

As his friends, they had no choice but to acknowledge her.

The group’s reactions varied—some were stunned, others remained composed, and a few had seen it coming all along.

Then there were those who refused to accept it, like Claire.

Evelyn had, after all, recently crossed Claire.

Watching as Lillian and Cassandra stood frozen in shock, Claire gritted her teeth at their uselessness.

"Nathan," Claire snapped, her voice sharp with accusation, "this is too much. Even if you’re bound to this marriage now, you can’t just erase what you once felt for Cassandra—"

Nathan’s brow furrowed slightly, his interruption swift and cutting. "There’s nothing to erase. What never existed can’t be rewritten. If you insist otherwise, enlighten me. Name one moment worth remembering."

Claire faltered, unprepared for his blunt dismissal. Even Mason, ever the mediator, shot her a warning glance. Nathan’s stance was crystal clear.

When Lillian finally found her voice, it came out shrill. "How can you deny it? You adored Cassandra! Look at this—" She thrust her phone forward, displaying a photo of Nathan beneath a snow-dusted streetlamp, his gaze fixed on Cassandra as she ran toward him.

Nathan felt Evelyn shift in his arms.

Truthfully, he’d only embraced her briefly at the start, but even now, he sensed the subtle tension in her posture.

Evelyn’s emotions might have been in turmoil, but curiosity won out. Gossip was her guilty pleasure—ignoring it would’ve been unnatural.

She leaned in, studying the photo with undisguised interest.

"Stop!" Cassandra’s voice cracked through the room, raw and desperate. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her lashes trembling as she lifted her tear-streaked face to Nathan. For once, her anguish wasn’t performative—it was real, and it was devastating.

Evelyn arched a brow, impressed. Damn, she’s good. If the whole heiress thing falls through, Hollywood’s waiting.

Violet quieted down, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Evelyn, we have to confront him!"

Evelyn forced herself to remain composed, drawing in a slow, steadying breath.

Here we go again. Another dramatic performance. How will she twist this situation to her advantage? I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show. Action! thought Seraphina, her amusement nearly making Nathan chuckle in the tense atmosphere.

Clearly, he wasn’t cut out for theatrics.

Then, Evelyn spoke, her voice trembling just enough to sound wounded. "There’s no need. Mr. Blackwood is right. It was all in my head. I was deluding myself, believing in something that was never real."

The crowd’s expressions shifted, sympathy flickering in their eyes.

But Nathan had run out of patience.

"It was you who crafted those rumors," he said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Spreading tales of us being the perfect match, the golden couple of high society. You paraded our so-called love in front of everyone, shaping an image that never existed. At the time, I didn’t care—whether it was for your pride or your family’s benefit, it didn’t matter. But now?" His gaze hardened. "Your vague insinuations, your calculated words—they’re poisoning the relationship between my wife and me. And I won’t let you paint us as the villains."

Evelyn’s lips parted, her eyes welling up.

Nathan’s stare only grew colder. "That look, those tears—you’re hoping the crowd will draw the conclusion you want. Do you really think I’m that blind?"

Evelyn stiffened, her breath hitching. Reality crashed over her. The man before her wasn’t just any businessman—he was Nathan Blackwood, a titan who had never lost a battle. How had she ever thought he wouldn’t see through her?

The onlookers blinked, realization dawning. The narrative they’d almost accepted was completely at odds with Nathan’s words.

"Our relationship was amicable, but it was never the grand romance the rumors made it out to be," Nathan stated, his tone unwavering. He didn’t spare Evelyn another glance, turning instead to a stunned Violet and the phone in her hand. "Where did this photo come from?"