Chapter 297

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, illuminating the scattered scripts on her coffee table. She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her tousled auburn hair. The weight of the decision pressed on her chest like an invisible hand.

Should she take the role or not?

Her phone buzzed—another message from Preston Whitmore, the director of Midnight Whispers, the film that could redefine her career.

Preston: Evelyn, we need your answer by noon. The studio’s getting impatient.

She bit her lip. The script was brilliant, but the male lead… Nathan Blackwood. Just the thought of working with him again sent a shiver down her spine. Their last collaboration had ended in disaster—a whirlwind of tabloid scandals, heated arguments, and an unresolved tension that still lingered between them.

A knock at the door startled her.

“Evelyn?” Lillian Graves, her assistant, peeked in, holding a tray with coffee and a croissant. “You haven’t eaten. And you look like you’ve been wrestling with ghosts all night.”

Evelyn forced a smile. “Just scripts and decisions.”

Lillian set the tray down. “Is this about Midnight Whispers?”

Evelyn nodded. “Nathan’s already signed on.”

Lillian’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Oh indeed.

Evelyn picked up the script again, flipping to the scene where her character would have to confront Nathan’s—a raw, emotionally charged moment that mirrored their real-life history too closely.

“What if I can’t do it?” she murmured.

Lillian hesitated before speaking. “Or… what if this is exactly what you both need?”

Evelyn’s phone buzzed again—this time, a notification from Celebrity Insider.

BREAKING: Nathan Blackwood Spotted Leaving a Late-Night Meeting with Vanessa Sterling—Is There Trouble in Paradise?

Her stomach twisted. Vanessa Sterling—Harrison Montgomery’s infamous mistress. What was Nathan doing with her?

Evelyn’s fingers hovered over the screen, torn between calling Preston to decline or texting Nathan for an explanation she had no right to demand.

Then her doorbell rang.

Lillian frowned. “Are you expecting someone?”

Evelyn stood, smoothing her silk robe. “No.”

She opened the door—and froze.

Nathan stood there, his dark eyes stormy, his jaw set. “We need to talk.”

Behind her, Lillian discreetly slipped out, leaving them in the charged silence of the penthouse.

Evelyn crossed her arms. “About what? Your midnight rendezvous with Vanessa?”

Nathan’s expression darkened. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then enlighten me.”

He stepped closer, his voice low. “Not here. Not like this.” His gaze flickered to the script on her table. “You’re considering the role.”

She lifted her chin. “And if I am?”

Nathan exhaled sharply. “Then we’re about to have one hell of a reunion.”

The air between them crackled—old wounds, unspoken words, and the undeniable pull that had always existed beneath the surface.

Evelyn’s pulse raced.

Damn him.

She had a choice: walk away and protect her heart… or step into the fire and risk everything.

And Nathan Blackwood had always been her greatest risk.

The Blackwood family stood frozen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on them like a suffocating weight. Given the Prescott family’s notorious obsession with lineage, and considering Marcus’s current state of health… if this got out, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Vivian had inadvertently become the reason for the loss of her future brother-in-law and sister-in-law. What should have been a union of families through marriage had instead sown seeds of resentment.

Everyone in the Blackwood household understood this was nothing more than a tragic accident. How could fate twist so cruelly?

All they wanted was to prevent any misunderstanding between Marcus and Vivian.

From Nathan’s understanding of Marcus, he knew the one likely to struggle wouldn’t be Marcus, but Vivian herself.

Evelyn and Nathan were thinking the same thing.

Given Vivian’s nature, she was probably drowning in guilt, consumed by remorse toward Marcus. Marcus didn’t want her to suffer, so he insisted she stay home while he handled everything. At the moment, he was at the hospital with Adriana, praying she would recover enough before their wedding. He couldn’t risk anyone discovering her recent miscarriage. He had already made Adriana swear to secrecy—at least until after the ceremony. They’d figure out the rest later.

The Blackwoods exchanged bewildered glances. They had assumed that, regardless of Adriana’s relationship with Marcus and the others, she would never agree to cover up something like this. Was she truly that selfless?

A saint?

Evelyn found it hard to believe. The rumors she’d heard from Vivian about Adriana had painted a very different picture. Suspicion prickled at her.

Under normal circumstances, a woman in Adriana’s position—married to a man like Grayson, whose reputation for discarding wives was well-known—would cling to a child as her only security. So why was she so willing to cooperate with Marcus?

Nathan had reached the same conclusion. Perhaps Adriana had no other choice. Without a child, Grayson’s fickle nature meant she could be cast aside at any moment. Keeping this quiet and securing the marriage first was her best option.

But with such a scandal unfolding right before the wedding… did this mean tomorrow’s ceremony was doomed?

Evelyn’s stomach twisted.

The tension in the Blackwood household was palpable. A new bride suffering a miscarriage—especially one caused by their son’s partner—wasn’t something anyone could easily brush aside.

Would Marcus really be able to smooth things over?

The air thickened with unspoken dread.

The long-awaited wedding day arrived, filling Evelyn with a mix of curiosity and unease.

As the Blackwood family stepped into the venue, they were met with an unexpected sight—far more guests than anyone had anticipated.

Grayson Brooks had been married multiple times before, and most high-society figures had long grown tired of attending his ceremonies. Usually, they’d simply send gifts as a polite gesture.

But this time? The place was packed.

"What’s going on?" Richard murmured, eyebrows raised.

Margaret tilted her head. "Since when did Grayson become so popular?"

Nathan’s sister, Sophia, had brought her son Theodore along since he was off school. While Sophia looked around in confusion, Theodore, ever observant, leaned in. "A lot of people keep glancing at us."

The children assumed it was because of Nathan and Evelyn’s fame—they were quite the power couple.

But the adults knew better. Their gazes slowly shifted toward Evelyn.

Evelyn blinked innocently.

Is it because they heard I’d be here? That’s ridiculous.

"Wow, what a crowd," she remarked.

Vivian Moore chuckled. "Seems like word got out that Evelyn Sinclair would be here today. Everyone’s trying to catch a glimpse."

"Deliberate chaos, isn’t it?" Beatrice Holloway added dryly.

Vivian stuck out her tongue playfully before greeting the relatives who had arrived before them.

"Evelyn, your influence has officially surpassed your husband’s," Vivian teased.

Evelyn’s lips twitched. "You can have the spotlight."

How did I end up the center of attention at someone else’s wedding? Now I can’t even enjoy the drama properly. This is infuriating.

Hearing her unspoken complaint, the Blackwoods barely suppressed their laughter.

Amidst the chatter, they made their way inside, where Grayson stood at the entrance with a smug smile. Beside him was a young man who bore a striking resemblance—but it wasn’t Marcus Prescott.

"Of course," Vivian muttered under her breath. "Marcus would never play host for his playboy father."

Evelyn’s curiosity piqued.

This wedding just got a lot more interesting.

By now, all the guests had exchanged pleasantries with the host.

It was only then that Evelyn recognized the young man standing beside Grayson—the one who had replaced Marcus.

Good heavens, the Burke family patriarch is truly something else. This man, who appeared to be around the same age as Marcus, was actually Marcus’s younger uncle, Liam—Grayson’s youngest brother. Judging by his restless demeanor, it seemed he had been roped into being a groomsman, given that all his older siblings were already inside as guests, leaving him alone to attend to the others.

Once they stepped into the venue, they spotted Daniel and Lucas in the distance, waving at them. They had arrived early.

Evelyn’s gaze flickered between Lucas and Beatrice for a brief moment, noticing something different. It was in Lucas’s eyes. Before, they would never linger on Beatrice, but now, he was staring at her openly.

Yet, despite both of them having left the Winters manor together, they weren’t acting as a pair. It seemed Beatrice had some inexplicable resistance toward this adoptive older brother.

Evelyn gave them a quick glance before her attention was swiftly drawn elsewhere.

At that moment, Vivian was sitting with them. Unusually, among the group, Vivian was visible—but Marcus was nowhere to be seen.

Vivian’s expression was slightly dazed, her complexion paler than usual. She looked as though she had lost weight.

One glance was enough to tell that something was off with her.

Though Daniel and Lucas had arrived first and had already asked what was wrong, Vivian hadn’t been willing to answer. Given that they were men, pressing further would have been inappropriate.

As the others arrived, Daniel and Lucas exchanged knowing glances with everyone.

Apart from Evelyn and Nathan, no one else knew the truth. So, Vivian Moore casually asked, "What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange lately. Did you and Marcus have a fight?"

Vivian forced a weak smile. "Don’t jump to conclusions. I’m fine… I just didn’t sleep well last night."

"Darling, you’ve got too much on your mind. I’ll just ask Marcus later," Vivian Moore said, not wanting to make Vivian uncomfortable. "Speaking of which, where is Marcus? He’s not at the entrance, and he’s not guarding his darling either. What’s he up to?"

The moment those words left her lips, subtle shifts flickered across Daniel and Lucas’s expressions.

Vivian Moore immediately tensed. "What happened?"

"Nothing serious. His new stepmother called him away," Daniel said with a laugh, quickly regaining his usual composure.

"What’s going on?" Vivian Moore pressed, sensing something amiss.

Vivian, meanwhile, seemed lost in thought, her fingers absently twisting the fabric of her dress.