Chapter 133

The word "ex-wife" left a bitter taste in Nathan Blackwood's mouth.

An inexplicable tightness gripped his chest.

"Which property catches your eye? I'll purchase it for you," Nathan offered abruptly.

His mind flashed back to the Lumière Fashion Week, where Evelyn Sinclair had playfully demanded a yacht from Lucas Sterling.

That memory stung like salt in an open wound.

Nathan realized with sudden clarity that he'd never gifted Evelyn anything during their marriage.

Perhaps if she accepted this gesture now, the gnawing guilt might subside.

Evelyn's laughter rang hollow, her emerald eyes devoid of warmth.

"How generous of you, Mr. Blackwood. Is this how you treat all your exes?"

Nathan's jaw tightened as he started to respond, but Evelyn cut him off sharply. "You said it yourself - I'm your ex-wife. That means we're strangers now. I won't accept anything from you, lest your family accuses me of being a gold digger again."

She turned to the sales agent. "I'll be paying in full." The thought of owing Nathan anything, especially for something so trivial, turned her stomach. The Blackwood fortune was the last thing she wanted to touch.

The agent hesitated, glancing nervously between Evelyn and Nathan, whose expression darkened by the second. Harrison discreetly signaled the agent to proceed, understanding the tension better than most.

Nathan's phone shattered the silence. The caller's panicked voice carried clearly: "Emergency! Vanessa Holloway's been in a car accident - she's lost critical blood volume!"

Evelyn didn't need to strain to hear. That name always triggered her instincts like a sixth sense.

Nathan's face drained of color, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his carefully controlled exterior.

"I'm on my way." He ended the call, his obsidian eyes locking onto Evelyn's. "Vanessa—"

"Spare me the details," Evelyn interrupted with a mocking smile. "Really, Nathan, how naive can you be? Does Ms. Holloway have nine lives? She miraculously survives every time you come running."

Nathan's entire body went rigid, his knuckles whitening around his phone.

"Thank goodness I declined your gift. Otherwise, I might be expected to donate blood to your precious Vanessa. Save your mansion for her - pray she lives long enough to actually become your wife." Evelyn's words dripped with venom as she turned her back on him.

Nathan stood rooted to the spot, his expression thunderous.

"Sir, we should leave immediately," Harrison urged, having received his own urgent call from the hospital.

At Montecito General Hospital...

Tristan Whitmore stood sentinel outside the private ward while Sophia Blackwood cowered in the corner, her entire body trembling.

"What happened?" Nathan's voice could have frozen hell over.

Tristan pointed an accusing finger at Sophia. "Ask her."

Under her brother's withering glare, Sophia finally broke. "It's not my fault! Blame that witch Evelyn! She drove Vanessa to this!"

Nathan's eyes turned glacial. "Explain yourself."

He'd just been with Evelyn - there was no possible way she could be involved in Vanessa's accident.

Sophia dissolved into hysterical sobs. "Vanessa said Evelyn only hates our family because of her! That if she died, Evelyn would stop tormenting us! So she ran into traffic - don't you see? Evelyn might as well have pushed her herself!"