Chapter 201

The morning sun cast golden rays through Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse windows, illuminating the steaming cup of Earl Grey in her hands. As she settled onto the plush velvet chaise, her phone buzzed with a message from her assistant, Lillian Graves.

"Miss Sinclair, the Blackwood family has just arrived at the charity gala. Nathan is wearing that navy Tom Ford suit you love."

Evelyn smirked, her fingers tapping a quick reply. "Tell me something I don’t know, Lillian."

But what she didn’t expect was the mental whisper that slithered into her mind like a serpent—Nathan Blackwood’s own thoughts.

"God, Evelyn looks breathtaking tonight. If only she knew how much I—"

Her teacup clattered against the saucer. Since when could I hear his thoughts?

Before she could process it, another voice, sharp and venomous, cut through. Victoria Hayes, Nathan’s scheming secretary, was mentally plotting. "One more slip-up from Evelyn, and I’ll make sure Nathan sees her for the gold-digger she is."

Evelyn’s grip tightened on her phone. So, not only could she hear Nathan’s private musings, but the universe had also handed her a front-row seat to her enemies’ schemes.

A wicked grin curled her lips. This was going to be fun.

The moment Evelyn stepped out of the car, a strange unease settled in her chest. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unbuckled the seatbelt, the weight of the evening's events pressing down on her. Something felt... missing. Forgotten.

Her mind raced, thoughts colliding like storm waves against a cliff. Too much had happened tonight. Too many revelations. Too many emotions.

Just as her foot touched the pavement, a warm hand encircled her wrist, stopping her mid-movement. She turned to meet Nathan's intense gaze - those dark eyes burning with unspoken words.

Apologies had been made. Debts settled. What more could he possibly want from her?

"What is it?" Evelyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nathan's throat worked visibly before he spoke. "Evelyn... I know you've always dreamed of a proper wedding." His grip tightened almost imperceptibly. "When you're ready... let's do it right this time."

The confession hung between them, raw and vulnerable. Nathan had never been good with emotions - especially these new, terrifying feelings that made his pulse erratic whenever Evelyn was near.

So he left the choice in her hands. He wasn't blind. The Evelyn standing before him now was a shadow of the vibrant woman from six months ago. Two years of his neglect had finally broken her spirit. The divorce papers she'd drafted were proof enough.

She didn't love him anymore. Not truly.

Perhaps she still appreciated his looks, his wealth. But the woman who'd once looked at him with stars in her eyes was gone. And it was his own damned fault.

The realization hit him like a physical blow - this bittersweet agony of finally understanding his own feelings just as hers had faded. He'd been too impatient, too arrogant to see her worth before. Now it might be too late.

His only instinct? Hold on. Tight. Because Evelyn seemed ready to vanish like morning mist. As long as she didn't say the word "divorce," there was hope. A chance to rebuild.

Irony tasted bitter on his tongue. He'd spent his entire life feeling nothing particularly strongly. Yet now? Terror froze his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Evelyn's lips parted in shock. "A... wedding?" Her voice cracked. "You're serious?"

The pieces suddenly clicked together. They'd never had a proper ceremony before because of Cassandra. Except... Nathan had claimed there was never any real feelings there. So why...?

Her pulse hammered against her ribs. None of this made sense.

The air in the luxury car was thick with tension. Evelyn Sinclair bit her lip, lost in thought. A proper wedding? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying.

Nathan Blackwood studied her profile, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. He couldn’t deny her logic—it would look bad for the heir of the Blackwood family to skip a grand ceremony. But that wasn’t what made his pulse race.

No silly first crush drama. No messy past. Evelyn’s inner monologue was brutally practical. My husband is wealthy, devastatingly handsome, and treats me well. His family adores me. Why would I say no?

Then came the kicker.

But will he actually sleep with me after the wedding? I refuse to live like some glorified widow!

Nathan nearly choked.

He’d expected hesitation, maybe even resistance. Not this. His cheeks burned as he glanced away, unable to meet her gaze. Swallowing hard, he forced out a whisper. "Yes. I’m willing."

Evelyn didn’t hear him. Her mind was a whirlwind.

In her past life, she’d been alone—no family, no love, no marriage. Friendships were scarce, trust scarcer. If she didn’t seize this chance, she might never have a real relationship.

If I become Mrs. Blackwood, I’ll swim in luxury. A golden spoon life beats a measly two-million monthly alimony.

Nathan exhaled in relief. Thank God for my net worth. He almost smirked, tempted to add that he also had an eight-pack. Whatever she wanted, he had it.

But doubts crept in. What if this gilded cage suffocates me? What if Nathan falls for someone else? Divorce didn’t scare her, but the aftermath did. Everyone would know I was once a Blackwood. Remarrying? Impossible.

Her chest tightened. The urge to bolt surged.

Suddenly, Nathan’s grip vanished. The car door swung open, and he was gone.

Evelyn blinked. Did I take too long?

Before she could react, he reappeared at her side, caging her against the car with his arms. His proximity stole her breath.

Nathan’s voice was rough, his breathing uneven. "Evelyn."

She stared up, wide-eyed, as he leaned in.

The world narrowed to the heat of his body, the intensity in his gaze.

And then—

He kissed her.

The golden afternoon light streamed through the car windows as Evelyn Sinclair fidgeted with the hem of her dress. The weight of Nathan Blackwood's proposal hung between them, unspoken yet undeniable.

It wouldn’t be proper for the heir of the Blackwood family to skip a real wedding, she mused.

Nathan hesitated, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. He couldn’t argue with her logic.

Without the complications of first loves and messy breakups, this is practically a dream scenario. My husband is wealthy, devastatingly handsome, and kind. His family adores me. Why would I say no? Evelyn bit her lip. But… does this mean he’ll actually share a bed with me after the ceremony? I refuse to live like some neglected trophy wife!

Nathan nearly choked on air.

After such a long silence, her sudden, scandalous thought caught him off guard. He turned his face away, heat creeping up his neck.

Swallowing hard, he murmured, "Yes… I’m willing."

Evelyn didn’t hear him. Her mind was a whirlwind of doubts and possibilities.

If they went through with this, she’d be properly married. No take-backs.

In her past life, she’d been alone—no family, no love, no future. Making friends had been a struggle, let alone finding a partner. If she didn’t marry Nathan now, she might never have this chance again.

If I become Mrs. Blackwood, I’ll never want for anything. A life of luxury, power, security… It’s better than scraping by on alimony.

Nathan exhaled in relief. Thank God for my bank account.

He almost added that he also had a sculpted eight-pack—everything she could possibly desire. But he held his tongue.

But what if this gilded cage suffocates me? What if Nathan falls for someone else? Evelyn’s chest tightened. Another divorce wouldn’t faze me, but if we marry publicly, the whole world will know I was once his. Would anyone want me after that?

Her thoughts spiraled, her gaze distant.

Suddenly, Nathan’s grip on her wrist vanished. He flung the car door open and stepped out.

Evelyn blinked. Did I take too long?

Before she could react, he was at her side, caging her against the car with his arms. His proximity sent her pulse racing.

Nathan’s breath was uneven as he stared down at her, his voice rough. "Evelyn."

She swallowed, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

"I want you," he said, each word deliberate. "Not just as my wife. As my partner. My equal."

Her lips parted in surprise.

Nathan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And yes, I will share your bed."

Evelyn’s face burned.

Well then.

The decision was made.

Nathan's throat tightened, his words trapped behind an invisible barrier. It wasn't pride holding him back—it was something deeper, something raw. Every time he tried to voice his feelings, his chest constricted, his breath hitching as if his body refused to cooperate.

I might die if I say this out loud.

The realization struck him hard. He had never spoken these words to any woman before. Never allowed himself to be this vulnerable. But Evelyn's soft voice, laced with hesitation, forced him to push through.

"Evelyn," he began, his voice rougher than intended. "If you agree to this marriage, there are things I need to say first."

Her brows arched. Oh? I haven't even said yes, and he's already laying down conditions?

Nathan's gaze darkened, intense and unwavering. He leaned closer, his eyes locking onto hers with a possessiveness that made her pulse stutter. "Be my wife, and that's all. You don’t have to change. You don’t have to play a role. You can do whatever you want—or nothing at all. You’ll have your freedom. The only thing I ask is that you stay by my side, happy and unburdened. You are Evelyn first. My wife second."

Evelyn's breath caught.

What is happening? The way he’s speaking—it sounds like… a proposal?

Nathan’s lips curved, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to affection. "We started wrong, Evelyn. I want to begin again. I don’t have flowers. I don’t have a ring. But this is a proposal. You know that, don’t you?"

Wait—what? Her thoughts spun. A proposal? Since when is he in love with me?

Nathan ignored her silent panic. He refused to let her overthinking ruin this moment. With deliberate slowness, he closed the distance between them. Evelyn’s eyes widened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a kiss so tender it stole her breath.

His throat worked as he pulled back slightly, his fingers lingering on her cool skin. She smelled like vanilla and something uniquely her—intoxicating. It took every ounce of willpower not to kiss her properly.

But beneath his touch, Evelyn remained stiff, her body tense with disbelief.

Nathan studied her face, the storm of emotions in her eyes. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"Because I’ve fallen for you," he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. "And I want to be with you."