Chapter 208

The morning sun cast golden streaks across Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug. The city below buzzed with life, but her mind was elsewhere—entirely consumed by the man who had stormed into her world and refused to leave.

Nathan Blackwood.

Just the thought of him sent a shiver down her spine.

Her phone buzzed on the marble countertop, pulling her from her thoughts. Lillian Graves’ name flashed on the screen.

"Evelyn, you need to see this," Lillian’s voice was urgent.

Evelyn frowned, tapping the screen to open the link Lillian had sent. The headline blared in bold letters:

"Nathan Blackwood Spotted with Mystery Woman—Is Evelyn Sinclair Out of the Picture?"

Her breath hitched. The accompanying photo showed Nathan exiting an upscale restaurant, his arm draped casually around a stunning brunette. The woman—someone Evelyn didn’t recognize—leaned into him, her lips curved in a smug smile.

A sharp pang twisted in Evelyn’s chest.

She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care.

Except she did.

Her fingers trembled as she set the phone down.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath.

Before she could spiral further, another notification popped up—this time from Preston Whitmore.

"Emergency meeting. Studio in 30. Be there."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. Work. Right. That was what she needed—a distraction.

But as she grabbed her coat and headed for the door, one thought refused to leave her mind:

Who the hell was that woman?

Nathan Blackwood leaned back in his leather chair, his expression unreadable as he scrolled through the same article on his tablet. Across from him, Marcus Donovan—his brother Julian’s agent—watched him with raised brows.

"You’re playing with fire," Marcus remarked.

Nathan smirked, though his eyes remained cold. "She needs a push."

Marcus shook his head. "Or a damn good explanation. Because if Evelyn sees this—"

"She already has," Nathan cut in smoothly.

Marcus groaned. "You’re insane."

Nathan’s phone buzzed. A message from Sophia, his sister:

"What the hell are you doing? Call me."

He ignored it.

This was part of the plan.

Evelyn Sinclair thought she could walk away?

Not a chance.

He’d make sure of it.

At the studio, Evelyn strode into the conference room, her posture rigid. Preston Whitmore and Donovan Sharpe were already there, their expressions grim.

"We have a problem," Preston said without preamble.

Evelyn arched a brow. "What now?"

Donovan slid a tablet toward her. "Mirabelle Diaz—or rather, Seraphina Delacroix—just announced she’s joining the cast of our film. As your co-star."

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Seraphina Delacroix—the woman from the photo with Nathan.

Her nails dug into her palms.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

It was a game.

And Nathan Blackwood had just made his move.

At the grand entrance of the Hampton estate, Mason Hunter greeted the arriving guests with practiced ease—first Marcus Prescott and Vivian Grant, followed by Grayson Hart and Gwendolyn Brooks. Then, his gaze landed on Daniel Wright, who stepped out of his car alone.

A ripple of curiosity passed through the gathered crowd.

Vivian tilted her head, her voice laced with playful suspicion. "Aren’t you two supposed to be planning a wedding? Where’s your fiancée? Too good for our little gathering now?"

Daniel’s expression softened, though his tone remained firm. "She’s been struggling with morning sickness. The doctor advised minimal movement, so I didn’t want to risk it."

Marcus smirked, nudging Daniel’s shoulder. "As long as she doesn’t bail on you at the altar, right?"

Laughter bubbled up around them, but Mason’s stiff posture didn’t go unnoticed. Just as Grayson opened his mouth to comment, the hum of an approaching engine cut through the chatter.

Beatrice Holloway and Lucas Thornton stepped out of the same car—an unusual sight, given their complicated family ties.

Grayson whistled. "Well, well. What’s this? A united front?"

Lucas shrugged. "Her cousin’s tied up with the new entertainment venture. I was at Aunt Eleanor’s, so we carpooled."

Beatrice barely acknowledged the teasing. Instead, her sharp eyes zeroed in on Daniel. "Your ring’s . Swing by the boutique whenever you’re free."

Daniel nodded, a rare smile touching his lips.

Vivian clapped her hands together. "Hold on—does this mean Nathan’s the only one who hasn’t commissioned Beatrice for a custom piece yet?"

Lucas groaned. "Must you remind everyone I’m single?"

Marcus barked out a laugh. "Got plans to change that anytime soon?"

Before Lucas could retort, Beatrice cut in, her voice cool. "Actually, Nathan placed an order last week. An engagement ring."

Silence. Then, chaos.

Everyone leaned in, demanding details, but Beatrice—never one for gossip—merely arched a brow. "He wanted something ‘investment-grade.’ The most expensive materials. The highest possible value."

Daniel’s smile faltered. He’d just finalized his own ring design—a sentimental piece, crafted with deliberate symbolism. Cost had never crossed his mind.

And as the group dissolved into speculation, Mason’s grip tightened around his glass, his gaze distant.

Something was wrong.

And it wasn’t just the absence of a certain blonde-haired, sharp-tongued designer at his side.

"Honestly, some people have zero emotional intelligence," Vivian Grant remarked with an exasperated sigh, swirling her wine glass.

Marcus Prescott chuckled in agreement. "I've told him the same thing." Their friend Beatrice Holloway, the renowned jewelry designer, could only shake her head at Nathan Blackwood's rather ostentatious request. "But he insisted Evelyn Sinclair prefers it this way."

The group exchanged skeptical glances, though they didn't press the matter further. The mere fact that Nathan was commissioning an engagement ring was shocking enough. This confirmed what they'd all suspected - his feelings for Evelyn were genuine. The Nathan they knew would have simply bought something off-the-shelf rather than going through the trouble of a custom design.

The whole idea of Beatrice designing jewelry for their partners had started as a drunken joke during their university days. That Nathan actually remembered and honored this pact was both amusing and touching.

"Well, with Daniel and Nathan both engaged, that makes three couples in our group. We're safe now," Vivian said with a playful wink.

"Huh?" Daniel Wright looked up from his drink, confused.

Marcus laughed. "Don't you remember? Both Grayson Hart and Mason Hunter commissioned pieces from Beatrice before? And look how those relationships ended. My darling here is superstitious."

Beatrice shot Vivian an exasperated look while Vivian stuck out her tongue childishly. This earned her a glare from Grayson, who clearly didn't appreciate anyone bringing up his past relationships.

Nearby, Gwendolyn Brooks pretended not to listen, though the conversation reminded her of when Grayson used to make her wear specific earrings during their... arrangements. Now she understood why.

As for Mason Hunter, who'd been unusually quiet all evening, he suddenly stiffened as if remembering something painful. He too had once approached Beatrice about a necklace - meant for Claire Morgan. It would have been their public declaration when she wore it.

But before the necklace was completed, Claire became his sister-in-law instead. When the piece finally arrived, Mason had been so furious he nearly destroyed it. Coincidentally, it arrived on Claire's birthday. Though he'd planned to ignore the occasion, family pressure forced him to gift it to her - partly out of spite. He wanted her to regret choosing money over him, thinking her discomfort would bring him satisfaction.

Yet the whole incident had affected him more than he cared to admit, making him overlook something crucial...

What a complete jerk! If Mason claimed to truly care about Violet Carter now, no one would believe him. If he really loved her, why would he treat her so...

Upstairs, Evelyn Sinclair was secretly reveling in the gossip, but her anger was boiling over. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to scream.

Downstairs, the Blackwoods were stunned into silence by Evelyn’s outburst. They had all assumed Nathan was pretending to be broke to leech off his girlfriend, but now they wondered—had something even more outrageous happened?

The bracelet Violet Carter cherished so deeply? It was nothing more than scraps from a gift meant for Claire Morgan. Not even a fraction of the original necklace’s worth. And they were dating at the time! Sure, they had just gotten together, but dating meant feelings were involved, right? How could Mason be so cruel, testing her like this? And then giving her that pathetic bracelet as if it were some grand gesture?

Nathan felt a pang of guilt. When he first saw the bracelet, he’d found it odd that a makeup artist would own something made of such rare material. Even if it was a complimentary gift, it was still custom-made.

Now that he knew Violet was Mason’s girlfriend, the pieces should have clicked. But with everything happening at once, he hadn’t connected the dots.

Do you seriously think forgetting your girlfriend’s birthday because you were in a bad mood is excusable? Evelyn’s voice seethed in her mind. You didn’t even bother getting her a proper gift—just dug out some leftover trinket from your car and called it a birthday present. How does that not haunt you?

Nathan exhaled sharply. Honestly, it might have been better if Mason had given Violet nothing at all.

He couldn’t fathom Mason’s twisted logic. Did the man even realize how demeaning and insulting his actions were?

No, wait—of course he doesn’t. Evelyn’s thoughts raged on. You don’t even feel guilty. You actually believe Violet was lucky to receive something so cheap. You lied to her, telling her it was only worth a thousand dollars because you were afraid she’d get greedy and question your fake identity. In your eyes, she’s only worthy of bargain-bin jewelry. Newsflash, Mason—if she weren’t wasting her money supporting a parasite like you, she could buy herself ten of those bracelets without blinking!

Nathan sighed. He was starting to doubt Mason’s so-called affection too.

And the worst part? Evelyn’s fury burned hotter. You made Violet feel sorry for you. She thought you scrimped and saved, taking odd jobs just to afford that worthless bracelet. She treasured it like it was priceless. You’re a damn monster. How did someone like you end up with someone as kind as Violet? What did she do in her past life to deserve this?

Every time Evelyn remembered how Violet had cradled that bracelet like it was the most precious thing in the world, her vision blurred with rage.

You spoiled Claire rotten when you were together, but with Violet, you’re suddenly a miser? Clearly, you think she’s beneath you. So why don’t you go crawling back to Claire? She’s been dropping hints left and right, flaunting your past relationship in Violet’s face. How can you let her down like this? You two deserve each other—shameless, heartless snakes!

Worried Evelyn might combust from sheer fury, Nathan reached out and gently smoothed a hand over her hair, trying to calm her. Internally, he shook his head at Mason and Claire’s disgusting behavior.

Some people didn’t deserve love at all.

Evelyn Sinclair hesitated before daring to glance at her phone screen again. A sharp pang of sympathy twisted in her chest. Violet Carter wasn't just reeling from the shocking revelation about the bracelet—she was also forced to confront the ugly truth about Mason Hunter and Claire Morgan.

Violet staggered backward, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Her wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto Claire as if seeing her for the first time.

"You… You two…"

Her voice cracked, the words dissolving into stunned silence. The weight of betrayal pressed down on her, making it impossible to breathe.

Evelyn clenched her fists, torn between stepping forward and giving Violet space. The air between them crackled with tension, thick enough to suffocate.

Claire, ever composed, merely lifted her chin, her expression unreadable. But Evelyn knew better—she saw the flicker of guilt in Claire’s eyes before she masked it.

Mason, however, looked like a man caught in a storm, his face pale, his usual confidence shattered.

Violet’s lips trembled. "All this time… you lied to me."

Evelyn’s heart ached. She knew what it was like to be deceived, to have trust ripped away in an instant.

Mason reached out, his voice rough. "Violet, let me explain—"

"Explain?" Violet let out a bitter laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks. "What’s left to explain?"

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the kind that made Evelyn’s skin prickle. She knew this wasn’t just about the bracelet anymore—it was about broken promises, hidden affairs, and the kind of betrayal that left scars.

And as Violet turned and fled, Evelyn realized one thing with chilling certainty:

This wasn’t over. Not even close.