Chapter 219

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, casting a golden glow over the sleek marble countertops. She sipped her espresso, the rich aroma mingling with the crisp autumn air. Her phone buzzed—another notification from Gossip Insider.

Evelyn’s lips curled into a smirk as she scrolled through the latest headline:

"Nathan Blackwood Spotted Leaving Elite Hotel with Mystery Woman—Who Is She?"

The accompanying photo was grainy but unmistakable. Nathan, dressed in his signature tailored suit, his dark hair slightly tousled, held the door open for a statuesque blonde. Evelyn’s pulse quickened, though she refused to admit why.

"Pathetic," she muttered to herself, tossing the phone onto the couch. "Since when do I care about his late-night escapades?"

But her mind betrayed her. Fragments of memories surfaced—Nathan’s deep laugh at that charity gala, the way his fingers had brushed against hers when passing her a glass of champagne. No. She shook her head sharply. He’s just another rich playboy. Nothing special.

Her assistant, Lillian Graves, breezed in, balancing a tablet and a caramel macchiato. "Morning, Evelyn. You’ve got a script review at eleven, lunch with Preston Whitmore, and—"

"Cancel the lunch," Evelyn interrupted, her tone sharper than intended.

Lillian blinked. "But it’s about the lead role in Midnight Whispers—"

"I said cancel it." Evelyn stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "I need to… clear my head."

Lillian hesitated, then nodded. "Of course. Should I reschedule?"

"No." Evelyn grabbed her coat, her mind already racing. There was only one place she could go to drown out the noise.

The Velvet Lounge was nearly empty at this hour, its plush booths and dim lighting a sanctuary for the city’s elite who preferred discretion. Evelyn slid into her usual corner, ordering a martini—extra dry, two olives.

She barely noticed when the seat across from her was occupied.

"Rough morning?"

Evelyn’s gaze snapped up. Nathan Blackwood lounged casually, his emerald-green tie slightly loosened, a smirk playing on his lips.

Her fingers tightened around her glass. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I imagine." He signaled the bartender. "Scotch. Neat." Then, leaning forward, his voice dropped to a murmur. "Though I doubt you’re here because of a certain misleading headline."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. He knew she’d seen it.

"That woman," he continued, swirling his drink, "was my sister, Sophia. She flew in from Paris last night."

Evelyn scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"

Nathan’s smirk faded. His eyes—usually alight with mischief—turned serious. "I don’t care what you believe, Evelyn. But I do care that you’re letting gossip dictate your opinion of me."

The air between them crackled. Evelyn opened her mouth to retort—

Then her phone buzzed again.

Breaking: Harrison Montgomery’s Secret Affair Exposed—Photos Inside!

Nathan’s brow arched. "Seems like you’re not the only one with drama today."

Evelyn groaned. Not Harrison again.

But before she could react, Nathan snatched her phone, his grin returning. "Tell you what. Let’s grab lunch. I’ll fill you in on Harrison’s real scandal… and you can stop pretending you hate me."

Evelyn’s heart stuttered. Damn him.

"Fine," she said, snatching her phone back. "But you’re paying."

Nathan’s laughter followed her out the door, warm and infuriatingly familiar.

For any married woman, being publicly disowned by her husband and sent back to her parents was the ultimate humiliation.

Evelyn Sinclair clutched at her last shred of dignity, but what she hadn’t anticipated were the brutal words that followed from Ethan Carter. Her breath hitched as terror seized her. How had he uncovered her carefully buried secrets?

Unlike Mason Hunter, Ethan wasn’t so easily fooled.

Evelyn’s face drained of all color, turning a sickly shade of white—paler than a corpse left in the morgue for days. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but no sound escaped her lips. She couldn’t even breathe properly.

And then—she collapsed.

Chaos erupted instantly.

Did she really faint, or is this another act?

She actually passed out!

Some people can’t handle the consequences of their own schemes. How dare they hurt others so carelessly?

The Blackwood family exchanged glances, shaking their heads in silent judgment. Karma’s a bitch.

Arthur and Violet Morris rushed to their daughter’s side, crying out in panic. Desperate, they turned to Ethan for help—but one look at his icy indifference told them everything. There was no saving this marriage.

Meanwhile, Liam Bennett and Grace Collins were still reeling from the shocking revelations. Exhausted and humiliated, they had no energy left to salvage their family’s reputation. They certainly didn’t want anything more to do with the daughter-in-law who had dragged their name through the mud.

As for Mason? He was too busy drowning in his own mess to care about anyone else.

In the end, Arthur and Violet left the Hampton estate in disgrace, carrying their unconscious daughter between them.

Everyone knew the divorce papers would be signed the moment they stepped outside.

Just like that, the wine-tasting event was ruined. But Ethan, ever the composed host, smoothly ushered the guests out, gifting each a bottle of premium wine as an apology for the scandalous scene.

Though the Hamptons had been thoroughly embarrassed, Ethan’s handling of the situation earned reluctant respect. With a man like him at the helm, the family’s reputation would survive—even if they were the talk of high society for weeks.

As the Blackwoods prepared to leave, Ethan approached them, holding out a bottle.

"May I ask why?"

The question hung heavy in the air. While others might not have known, Ethan wasn’t blind. A simple investigation would reveal the Blackwoods had orchestrated the leaked video.

Nathan Blackwood opened his mouth to respond—but Evelyn cut in first.

"It was me," she admitted, lifting her chin. "Violet Carter and I are friends. Besides… someone had to expose the truth before things got worse."

The Blackwood family stood firmly behind Evelyn. If Mason dared to cause trouble, they were prepared to cut all ties with him without hesitation. Their stubbornness knew no bounds.

Nathan found himself stealing glances at Evelyn, who stood protectively in front of him as if ready to shield him from any harm. The way she braced herself to bear any burden for him made a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

Most of Mason’s interactions with Nathan had been strictly business. This was the first time he had witnessed this softer side of the usually unshakable man. Noticing the faint imprint of lipstick on Nathan’s cheek, a flicker of envy flashed in Mason’s eyes. Now he understood.

His initial question had been genuine curiosity. In elite circles, who would be so tactless as to expose something so blatantly? Most would feign ignorance to avoid offense, casually sacrificing the interests of someone insignificant.

Yet the Blackwoods were making things unnecessarily complicated—truly an eccentric family. Still, doing business with people like them meant one could always sleep soundly at night.

Seeing Evelyn’s slight tension, Mason chuckled. "Justice Upholder, you really are something."

Huh? Was that sarcasm? But his expression didn’t seem mocking.

After exchanging a firm handshake with Nathan, Mason excused himself to attend to other guests.

As the family stepped outside, they spotted Nathan’s group of friends. Daniel appeared to be deep in discussion about wedding plans, casually waiting for Nathan’s input.

Before they could join them, a sharp slap echoed across the lawn.

Before anyone could react, the Blackwoods heard Evelyn’s excited inner monologue:

Perfect! I thought I’d miss seeing him grovel. Oh wait—he’s already been reduced to ashes, hasn’t he?

The earlier chaos had been overwhelming, and at some point, Violet had vanished.

Now, she stood frozen, having just been intercepted by Mason.

The force of her slap had left his face stinging—an unprecedented humiliation for the rebellious young heir. Stunned, Mason turned to her, disbelief coloring his voice.

"You hit me?"

Violet flicked her wrist dismissively, her tone icy. "You deserved it."

Her attitude toward him had shifted so drastically that Mason could barely process it. Was this the same woman who had once tiptoed around him, her heart brimming with hope for his affection?

The sight of her turning away ignited a spark of fury. He had always held the upper hand in their relationship. Yet when she moved to leave, panic surged through him, and he reached out, his voice uncharacteristically pleading.

"Wait—"

Is this what they call taking things for granted? How utterly pathetic.

Violet Carter stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable. The Blackwood family watched with thinly veiled contempt as Mason Hunter groveled before her. Even Grayson Hart, a man known for his composure, couldn't hide his disgust.

Yet, Mason seemed genuinely terrified of losing Violet. So much so that he didn’t care about the humiliation of being watched by acquaintances.

He blocked her path, desperation lacing his voice. "You can't seriously be ending things like this."

Violet scoffed.

"No, listen—you love me. You must know that. I love you too. I want to marry you. Everything before... it was my fault. I was just scared—scared that if I admitted my feelings, I’d get hurt again. I know I messed up. But you can’t blame me entirely, can you? You spoiled me. You made me think I could do anything and you’d never leave. You can’t just walk away now that I’ve gotten used to it. Let me make it up to you—for those two years of lies. Violet, I love you. Please... give me another chance." Tears streamed down his face.

Ugh. His lines were so cliché. Was he seriously playing the victim now? "I misbehaved because you were too good to me?" What kind of twisted logic was that? With all his sobbing, though, would Violet actually waver?

If not for Evelyn Sinclair’s biting commentary, the Blackwood family might have actually pitied Mason’s dramatic confession. But with her sharp remarks, they found the whole scene more amusing than tragic.

The real question was—how would Violet react?

She stood there, lost in thought, her expression unreadable.

Mistaking her silence for hesitation, Mason pressed on. "As for her... that’s all in the past. It was just pride, nothing more. I haven’t had feelings for her in ages. She’s my sister-in-law—there’s no way anything could happen between us. It was all one-sided."

Wow. What a piece of work. His words were so manipulative. "Getting upset means you still care?" Sure, he hadn’t acted on anything, but the emotional games? The lingering glances at the reunion? Please.

"Let’s start over. If you say yes, I’ll convince my family to arrange our engagement right away. I lo—" He reached for her hand.

Violet sidestepped him. When she finally met his gaze, all he saw was cold indifference.

"I’ll send you the bill later."

Mason blinked. "What?"

The onlookers, who had been enjoying the spectacle, froze. It took them a second to process what had just happened.

Oh, this was going to be good.

The air between them crackled with tension as Evelyn Sinclair crossed her arms, her emerald eyes flashing with resolve. Across from her, Nathan Blackwood stood frozen, his usual composed demeanor shattered by her words.

"For the past two years," Evelyn began, her voice steady but edged with steel, "every cent I've spent on you, every transaction made—I've kept records of it all." She reached into her purse and pulled out a sleek tablet, her fingers flying across the screen. "I'm sending you the breakdown now. Consider it an invoice."

Nathan's jaw tightened as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t need to check it to know the number would be staggering. Evelyn had never been one to spare expenses when it came to him—luxury suits, five-star dinners, even that absurdly overpriced watch he’d casually mentioned liking once.

"You can't be serious," he said, his voice low.

"Deadly serious," she countered, tilting her chin up. "I want every penny returned. And you have exactly three days to do it."

A beat of silence stretched between them. Nathan’s mind raced—liquidating assets, calling in favors—but the sum would still leave a dent.

Evelyn watched the calculations flicker behind his stormy gaze and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. This wasn’t just about the money. It was about making him feel the weight of what he’d taken for granted.

"Three days, Nathan," she repeated softly, turning on her heel. "Don’t make me come after you."

The click of her heels against the marble floor echoed like a countdown.

And for the first time in his life, Nathan Blackwood felt the cold grip of debt closing around him.