Chapter 237

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the penthouse as Evelyn Sinclair stirred awake, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Nathan Blackwood had already left for his early meeting, leaving only the faint trace of his cologne lingering in the air.

She stretched, her muscles protesting slightly from last night’s events—a gala that had ended with whispered threats and stolen glances. The memory sent a shiver down her spine.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant:

"Victoria Hayes just called. She wants to see you at the office ASAP. Says it’s urgent."

Evelyn’s lips pressed into a thin line. Victoria Hayes, Nathan’s sharp-tongued secretary, had never been her biggest fan. Whatever this was about, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

She dressed quickly, opting for a sleek black dress that screamed power—a silent armor against whatever storm awaited her.

The Blackwood Enterprises building loomed ahead, its glass façade reflecting the city’s skyline. As Evelyn stepped into the elevator, her phone buzzed again—this time, an unknown number.

"You should have stayed out of this, Evelyn."

Her breath hitched. No signature, no context. Just a threat.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Victoria standing by Nathan’s office, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Took you long enough,” Victoria drawled. “Nathan’s waiting.”

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. Nathan never summoned her like this. Something was wrong.

She pushed the door open—only to freeze.

Nathan stood by the window, his back rigid, while Marcus Donovan, Julian Blackwood’s agent, leaned against the desk, a folder in hand.

And inside that folder—photos.

Of her.

With Vincent Holloway.

Nathan turned, his storm-gray eyes dark with betrayal.

“Care to explain?”

Evelyn’s stomach dropped.

This wasn’t just a storm.

This was war.

The aftermath of what had just transpired in the bathroom crashed over Amelia like a tidal wave. Her breath hitched as the realization dawned—there had been a microphone planted there the entire time. How much had the guests outside heard? The weight of their stares pressed against her skin, each glance sharper than a blade.

Beside her, Ethan—no, Mason—froze, his face draining of color as his gaze darted around the room. The air between them thickened with dread.

"Pathetic," Evelyn Sinclair murmured under her breath, her lips curling in disdain. "So bold behind closed doors, yet trembling like frightened rabbits now. They knew exactly how disgraceful their actions were."

Nathan Blackwood's voice was ice. "Some people refuse to acknowledge their sins until they're exposed for the world to see."

The whispers around them swelled, morphing into a chorus of condemnation.

"Did you hear what she said? Daniel gave her a choice," one guest sneered. "Any decent person would have walked away, not humiliated him like this."

"Unbelievable," another scoffed. "She was ready to marry him right after leaving another man. What kind of woman lacks even a shred of shame?"

A third voice chimed in, dripping with mock concern. "And she's pregnant. Risking her child for a moment of weakness? Disgusting."

"Amelia? More like Avarice," someone quipped, earning a ripple of laughter.

"Some people are beyond saving," another remarked coldly. "No matter how pitiful they seem, they choose their own ruin. If they suffer, it's what they deserve."

"Stay too close, and their misfortune will stain you too," a woman warned, shaking her head.

A man shuddered dramatically. "First time I've met someone so repulsive. I'll think twice before trusting another innocent-looking face."

"Birds of a feather," another muttered. "That bastard Mason is just as vile. One hit, and he comes running to sabotage a wedding? Pure spite."

"Petty and vindictive," a guest agreed. "Best to steer clear of men like him."

A sharp laugh cut through the murmurs. "I've seen my share of family feuds, but this? Ruthless. Mason Wright is something else."

"Exactly!" another voice rose in outrage. "What did Daniel ever do to him? It's Mason and his mother who wronged Serena and Daniel!"

The room buzzed with judgment, each word another nail in the coffin of Amelia and Mason's reputations.

He would never admit his mistakes.

They were utterly humiliated, stripped of all dignity, left drowning in shame. It was worse than being paraded naked through the streets—their pride had been shattered beyond repair.

"Shut up!" Daniel roared, his face burning with fury and embarrassment. "You conniving witch! This was all your doing! You—"

His rage had no direction now. Every illusion he had clung to had been ripped away, leaving him raw and irrational. He was unraveling before everyone’s eyes, a man who had lost all control.

To the onlookers—Daniel’s former high school classmates—he was no different from the bullies they remembered. Hot-headed, reckless, and now, utterly pathetic. How could Amelia have ever chosen this fool over Grayson?

The answer was simple: bad taste.

Before Daniel could finish his tirade, Grayson struck him. The force sent him spinning, his body twisting mid-air before crashing to the ground.

Grayson’s slap carried far more power than a woman’s. One hit was enough to split Daniel’s lip, sending teeth flying. Before he could even groan, another slap followed, dislocating his jaw.

Daniel tried to scream, but all that came out was a garbled, wet sound. Drool dripped from his mouth as he scrambled backward, eyes wide with terror.

For the first time, he was afraid.

Desperate, he turned to Victor, silently begging for help.

But Victor was already drowning in his own disgrace. He had no energy left to salvage this disaster. All he could think was: Why did I ever stray from my family? What have I done?

Amelia watched, trembling, as Grayson attacked Daniel. She sat frozen on the cold floor, no longer the cherished fiancée Grayson had once adored. There was no gentle hand to pull her up, no worried whisper asking if she was cold.

Her body shook violently, her vision blurring at the edges. The weight of everyone’s stares pressed down on her, suffocating.

She couldn’t bear to remember the sounds she had made—the words she had spoken.

With tears streaming down her face, she turned to Grayson, her voice breaking. "Grayson, I—I didn’t mean to, I swear—"

But the words died in her throat.

Because Grayson wasn’t looking at her.

Not anymore.

Regret coiled inside Amelia like a venomous serpent, tightening its grip with every passing second. She had sworn to herself—to Daniel—that once they were married, she would never betray him. Contacting Ethan had been purely about their child, nothing more. Yet, a few honeyed words had unraveled her resolve, pulling her back into his orbit.

She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Not again. But desire had overridden reason, blurring lines she’d promised never to cross.

This wasn’t me. This wasn’t what I wanted.

Tears streamed down her face as she crumpled to the floor, her voice breaking. "Daniel!" she wailed, the same desperate plea that had always summoned him before.

And just like always, he came.

Her heart fluttered with fragile hope. See? He still cares. He’ll always come for me.

The room erupted in murmurs. Disbelief. Judgment.

"No way," Evelyn Sinclair breathed, her eyes wide.

Nathan Blackwood smirked, unbothered. "Don’t worry. Once he sees the truth, he won’t stay blind."

Amelia barely heard them. Her gaze locked onto Daniel as he knelt before her, his expression unreadable. Fresh tears spilled over—tears of injustice, of betrayal.

But before she could speak, his fingers closed around hers.

And he slid off her engagement ring.

Her breath hitched. "Y-you’re leaving me?" she whispered, voice trembling.

Daniel laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. "Amelia, do you really think I’m that stupid?" His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "You’ve taken enough. Be grateful I don’t believe in hitting women."

A cold dread slithered down her spine. The man before her wasn’t the Daniel she knew. His eyes—once warm, devoted—were glacial.

How?

How could he just… stop loving me?

She didn’t understand. When love soured into disgust, it didn’t fade—it shattered. And in its wake, all that remained was the sickening realization that the woman he’d once adored was nothing but a stranger. A liar.

"Amelia Bennett," Daniel said, rising to his full height, "our engagement is over. From this moment on, you mean nothing to me. Go back to Ethan. Or don’t. I don’t care." His voice hardened. "But you will leave my house tonight. And by tomorrow, I expect you gone from the apartment. Disappear. Because if I ever see your face again, I won’t be responsible for what happens."

The world tilted beneath her.

With a choked sob, she lunged forward, clutching at his pant leg like a beggar. "Daniel, please! You—you saved me! You can’t just throw me away now!" Her voice cracked. "I was going to end it with Ethan! I was going to choose you! We were so close—!"

Daniel didn’t even look at her.

He walked away.

And with every step, Amelia felt her heart splinter into irreparable pieces.