Chapter 84

The heavy thud of the partition door closing was swallowed by the pulsing bass of the club's music, leaving Nathan Blackwood frozen in place with an expression of pure astonishment.

In that instant, Evelyn Sinclair had him pressed flush against the door, her entire body leaning into his. One delicate hand covered his mouth while the other hovered near her lips in a silent shhh.

Nathan's dark lashes fluttered, his usually sharp gaze now wide and unguarded. The intimidating aura of a powerful CEO had completely vanished, replaced by something far more vulnerable. His star-bright eyes, usually so piercing, were now dazed, helplessly locked onto the woman before him.

For a brief, breathless moment, Nathan resembled a fallen angel—his beauty both innocent and devastating, radiating an irresistible magnetism.

But Evelyn barely had time to admire him before the real entertainment began.

Gossip had arrived.

And nothing—nothing—was more important than gossip.

Eager, she tilted her head to peer through the narrow gap in the door. In her excitement, she pressed even closer against Nathan, their bodies nearly melding together in the cramped space.

Nathan's breath hitched. The intoxicating blend of her perfume and the faint scent of champagne clung to her, flooding his senses. A flush crept up his neck, staining his usually composed features.

Evelyn was dressed in a sleek, fitted tracksuit that hugged every curve, the casual attire somehow making her even more alluring. The warmth of her body seeped through his shirt, making his skin prickle with awareness.

He suddenly realized his arm had somehow found its way around her waist.

When did that happen?

Tensing, he tried to pull away, but Evelyn—completely absorbed in her spying—didn’t even notice. His gaze inadvertently trailed down the elegant slope of her neck, over the delicate curve of her shoulder, and lower—

Nathan swallowed hard and forced his eyes away.

He was trapped.

And Evelyn? She was loving this.

Just then, the scene unfolded before them.

A stunning woman with raven-black hair and porcelain skin burst into the restroom, her traditional gown swishing around her ankles. Her white stilettos clicked against the tiles as she paced, her face a picture of distress.

Ah, Seraphina Delacroix.

Evelyn recognized her instantly—the second-tier actress known for her tragic, doe-eyed roles. No wonder the public adored her. Even when she dated Adrian Cross, his fans hadn’t turned on her.

Now, Seraphina’s eyes were red-rimmed, her expression lost. She looked seconds away from bursting into tears.

Then—

The restroom door creaked open again.

Seraphina startled like a frightened rabbit. "W-What are you doing here? This is the ladies' room!"

The newcomer advanced, and Seraphina stumbled back until her shoulders hit the wall.

Evelyn nearly groaned. Seriously? If you wanted to escape, just lock yourself in a stall!

But no—Seraphina stayed rooted, cornered by a tall, imposing figure.

The atmosphere was so thick with drama, Evelyn half-expected a camera crew to jump out.

Exes reuniting—always either tearful or painfully awkward.

Meanwhile, Nathan’s jaw tightened. Why the hell did Sebastian Hart even come if he wasn’t interested?

Adrian Cross was relentless, pushing for some kind of collaboration. Seraphina seemed torn, her lips trembling—until Isabelle Laurent, Sebastian’s manager, stormed in.

Before Isabelle could speak, Seraphina blurted out, "I don’t want to play the supporting role!"

Isabelle’s eyes flashed. "Absolutely not."

Sebastian, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "I agree with Isabelle." His voice was ice. "She doesn’t deserve to stand beside me."

Oh. Damn.

That was the exact line Seraphina had used when she dumped him.

The actress paled, tears welling.

Adrian, unfazed, shrugged. "The studio loves the idea. An unofficial couple? The buzz alone would skyrocket your careers."

But Isabelle stood firm. The risks—their past relationship being exposed, Sebastian’s unpredictable temper—were too great.

Nathan exhaled. At least someone here has sense.

Evelyn, however, was practically vibrating with excitement.

This was gold.

And they had front-row seats.