Chapter 255

The tension in the penthouse was suffocating. Evelyn Sinclair stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her fingers gripping the edge of the marble countertop until her knuckles turned white. Outside, the city lights flickered like distant stars, indifferent to the storm brewing inside.

Nathan Blackwood’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You knew, didn’t you?"

Evelyn didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. Not when the weight of his accusation pressed against her chest like a leaden weight. "Knew what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That Victoria was behind the leaks." His footsteps echoed as he closed the distance between them. "You had the evidence, and you kept it from me."

She exhaled sharply, finally spinning to face him. His stormy gray eyes burned with betrayal, and for a moment, she faltered. "I was trying to protect you—"

"Protect me?" Nathan scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Or were you protecting yourself?"

The accusation stung. Evelyn clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. "You think I’d sabotage my own career just to—what? Play some twisted game?"

Nathan’s jaw tightened. "I don’t know what to think anymore. First the media scandal, then the board questioning my leadership—all because of information only a handful of people had access to."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "And you automatically assumed it was me?"

His silence was answer enough.

Evelyn’s heart hammered against her ribs. She had trusted him—had believed they were past this. But now, standing in the wreckage of their fragile trust, she realized how wrong she’d been.

"You should leave," she said, her voice hollow.

Nathan’s expression darkened. "Evelyn—"

"Now."

For a heartbeat, he looked like he might argue. Then, with a sharp nod, he turned on his heel and strode out, the door slamming shut behind him.

The moment he was gone, Evelyn’s knees buckled. She sank onto the couch, her breath coming in ragged gasps. On the coffee table, her phone buzzed—a message from Lillian Graves, her assistant.

"The press got wind of the board meeting. They’re calling for Nathan’s resignation."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t just about Victoria anymore. Someone was pulling strings, and if she didn’t act fast, Nathan’s empire—and everything they’d built—would crumble.

She grabbed her phone, fingers flying over the screen.

"Get me everything you have on Victoria Hayes. And find out who else had access to those files."

The game had changed. And this time, Evelyn wasn’t playing by anyone’s rules but her own.

"That's more like it," Vivian said, twirling the strand of hair between her fingers. "You don’t even need to ask. I lost interest in him ages ago. I’m a natural free spirit, falling for someone new every other week. It’s not that I don’t believe good people exist—I just don’t buy into 'forever.' Love, to me, is like a rare wine—best enjoyed at its peak. I want to be in love until my last breath. Why settle for just one?"

Gwendolyn was stunned. She had never met someone who lived by such a philosophy so unapologetically. If love is anything like what Grayson feels for Vivian, then I want no part of it. Vivian’s version sounded thrilling, but… "I think Ms. Sinclair and her husband are perfect together."

Vivian laughed, tapping Gwendolyn’s nose playfully. "I’m talking about normal people, darling. Nathan and that Marcus? They’re anomalies—absolute freaks of nature. Regular love burns bright, then fizzles out, leaving nothing but resentment behind. If you’re lucky, you might find a way to make it last longer."

Gwendolyn frowned slightly when Vivian called her idol’s husband a freak, but she recognized it as teasing between friends and let it slide. Still, she wondered why Vivian had brought this up so suddenly.

Vivian had grown restless as she spoke. Before, she’d had no real plan, just curiosity. But now that she was acting on it, she couldn’t stop. "Anyway, enough about that. Are you feeling better? Has the allergy passed?"

"Yeah, I’m fine now," Gwendolyn replied.

Vivian’s gaze sharpened. "You’re allergic to lemons, aren’t you?"

Gwendolyn’s pulse stuttered. "Uh, yeah. Funny coincidence, right?"

Too funny. If this were a soap opera, they’d probably be long-lost sisters. But Gwendolyn knew better—Vivian’s family was picture-perfect, and Gwendolyn had her own parents. Besides, she looked just like her mother, right down to the lemon allergy. The odds of some dramatic revelation were practically zero.

Still, Gwendolyn couldn’t help but wonder if fate had tied them together in some small way—maybe distant relatives, or a shared ancestor.

Vivian’s expression darkened with something unreadable. Without another word, she added Gwendolyn’s contact info and asked, "Do you still have to work?"

Gwendolyn nodded.

Vivian sighed dramatically. "If Grayson keeps bothering you, go to Evelyn. She’s kind, and she seems to like you. Plus, Grayson wouldn’t dare cross Nathan."

Gwendolyn blinked, warmth spreading through her at the protective tone. "Aren’t you coming?"

Vivian smirked. "I’ll catch up. I’ve got something to take care of first."

Gwendolyn hesitated, wanting to ask but not daring to pry.

With that, they headed downstairs. Vivian flagged a cab immediately, dialing a number as she slid into the backseat. She needed a DNA test—now.

After the encounter, Vivian Moore made a call to dig deeper into Gwendolyn Brooks' background. Only those close to Grayson Hart knew the truth about Gwendolyn—after all, it was Grayson who had brought her into the fold.

Naturally, someone from Grayson's inner circle tipped him off.

That person even suggested Vivian still harbored feelings for Grayson, given how intently she was investigating her supposed "replacement." To them, it seemed like Vivian saw Gwendolyn as a threat.

For a fleeting moment, Grayson hesitated as he watched Gwendolyn return.

Gwendolyn's background was painfully simple—hardly worth such scrutiny. Knowing Vivian as he did, she wasn’t the type to overreact to a mere "romantic rival."

Unless… A ridiculous thought flickered through Grayson’s mind. Is Vivian investigating Gwendolyn because she’s actually interested in her? He quickly dismissed the absurd notion.

Yet when he saw the troubled expression on Gwendolyn’s face, his suspicions flared. Vivian had made a move.

Grayson’s chest tightened with unease. He wasn’t ready to let Gwendolyn go. But then… what about Vivian?

Unable to resist, he strode toward Gwendolyn.

The moment she spotted him, her entire body stiffened as if facing a predator. She turned sharply to leave, but his voice stopped her.

When she turned back, her smile was strained.

Grayson mistook it for distress. "Did she upset you?"

"No."

"Stubborn as always."

Gwendolyn bit back a curse.

"If you’re upset, tell me. I’ll talk to her. Where is she?" Grayson frowned, realizing Vivian hadn’t returned.

"Vivian had to leave for personal reasons. And for the record, we get along just fine. Stop imagining drama where there isn’t any." If she could, Gwendolyn would shake him by the shoulders until sense rattled into him.

Grayson stopped listening the moment he heard Vivian was gone. His expression darkened, and without another word, he turned on his heel.

Unbelievable. He couldn’t bring himself to cut ties with Gwendolyn, yet the moment Vivian left, regret clawed at him. Was he determined to torture himself over this impossible choice?

If only he knew neither of them wanted him in the first place, Evelyn Sinclair thought with a sigh.

Nathan Blackwood, too, found Grayson’s indecision baffling.

Meanwhile, Grayson stormed off to make a call.

Vivian Moore, anxiously awaiting the results, couldn't be bothered to answer Grayson Hart's call.

Done.

Grayson sensed Vivian was genuinely upset—likely because she'd heard about his recent time with Gwendolyn Brooks.

If that was the case, he regretted diverting his attention to Gwendolyn. After all, Vivian was the woman he'd loved for years.

Disheartened, Grayson wandered off to a quiet corner to brood over his choices.

Seems like both Grayson and Vivian are waiting for something. Will this end today? Evelyn Sinclair mused, bored out of her mind.

She floated lazily on a pool ring when suddenly—splash!—a competitive dive sent waves crashing over her, flipping her into the water.

But she didn’t choke. Nathan Blackwood’s arms wrapped around her instantly, pulling her to the pool’s edge.

Evelyn’s head spun for a second before clarity returned.

Just as Nathan leaned in to ask if she was okay, she spoke first.

The way he holds me—his strength, the firm press of his muscles—it’s incredible! I got so distracted by the drama earlier, I almost forgot why I came today. A slow grin spread across her lips.

Nathan exhaled sharply, torn between amusement and exasperation.

Though his muscles tensed, his grip around her subtly tightened.

This was the closest they’d ever been.

Only the thin fabric of Evelyn’s swimsuit separated their bare skin. Their body heat, distinct from the cool pool water, seeped into each other.

Unaware they’d already reached the edge, Evelyn melted into his embrace. The strange sense of safety and comfort made her reluctant to move.

Nathan, too, couldn’t bring himself to let go. The woman in his arms had filled the hollow ache in his chest. He wished time would freeze.

They stayed like that, silent, lost in each other—until Nathan’s expression abruptly darkened. He pushed her away.

Evelyn, nearly dozing off, jolted awake with a scowl. "What’s wrong? Can’t I even get a hug?" He claims he likes me, yet he won’t hold me.