Chapter 189

"Mr. Blackwood, what do you think you're doing?" Sebastian Hart snapped, his voice dripping with irritation as Nathan had just shattered what should have been a perfect romantic moment.

Who did Nathan Blackwood think he was? Sebastian wouldn't back down so easily. But Nathan paid him no attention, his intense gaze locked solely on Evelyn with a darkness that could swallow the room whole.

The Patek Philippe watch in Evelyn's hand glimmered under the lights, but Nathan had never despised an object more. At that moment, he wanted to gather every watch from that brand in his collection and toss them all into the nearest dumpster.

Evelyn's delicate fingers twisted away from Nathan's grasp. Her frosty eyes met his. "Is there something you need, Mr. Blackwood?"

Nathan's jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He opened his mouth to speak—

But Evelyn cut him off. "Whatever you have to say, save it for later." Her voice was like ice. "This is Sebastian's birthday celebration. Surely you don't intend to make a scene?"

With deliberate care, she fastened the luxury watch around Sebastian's wrist. A satisfied smile played on her lips. "Happy birthday, Sebastian."

Sebastian made a show of admiring his new timepiece, twisting his arm ostentatiously to ensure Nathan couldn't miss it. "Thank you, Evelyn. This is the most meaningful gift I've ever received—something I'll treasure forever." His gaze burned with undisguised adoration.

Evelyn caught her breath. The warmth in Sebastian's eyes was overwhelming—so tender, so full of promise. Yet she couldn't ignore the other presence beside her, the one radiating cold fury that pressed against her skin like a physical weight.

Nathan's thoughts raged. She played piano for him. Celebrated his birthday. Gave him gifts. None of it was meant for me. The pain was visceral, like someone had reached into his chest and twisted his heart. Memories that should have been his alone were being stolen away.

The agony was unbearable.

After a beat, Evelyn lowered her lashes and chuckled lightly. She teased Sebastian, "That model should appreciate in value. Don't go losing it."

Natalie Beaumont observed the tense standoff. Nathan remained rooted in place, his unblinking stare fixed on Evelyn like a predator. What an absolute fool.

"Natalie to the rescue," she muttered, swooping in to extract Evelyn from the uncomfortable situation. "Evelyn! I've lost my clutch—help me find it!" She grabbed her friend's arm.

Evelyn seized the lifeline gratefully. "You and your misplaced belongings," she chided as they hurried away.

Nathan watched until Evelyn disappeared into the crowd before finally turning away. Sebastian smirked. "She clearly doesn't want anything to do with you, Blackwood. Take the hint."

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Nathan's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "If you value your party remaining intact, Hart, you'll stay out of my way."

The threat hung heavy between them. Nathan hadn't come for this ridiculous celebration. Sebastian wasn't worth his time.

Tristan Whitmore materialized to diffuse the tension. With practiced ease, he steered Sebastian away. "Happy birthday, mate! Let's get you another drink."

Once Sebastian was safely occupied, Tristan returned to Nathan's side. Following his friend's line of sight, Tristan grinned. "Admiring the view?"

Nathan ignored him.

Tristan wasn't deterred. Years of friendship meant he could read Nathan like an open book. "Missing your ex-wife, are we?" he teased.

Nathan's behavior was telling. This wasn't just regret—it was jealousy, pure and simple. The usually composed CEO of Blackwood Enterprises had nearly lost his composure over a birthday gift.

Nathan's expression darkened. "Tristan," he said through gritted teeth, "I haven't even begun to settle accounts with you." His voice was deadly calm. "Who swore Evelyn had a gift for me? Who guaranteed she'd attend my birthday? My birthday was one day before Hart's, yet everything—the piano, the watch—was for him. Because of you and your empty promises, I actually let myself hope."

The last word was a snarl. Hope had only made the disappointment cut deeper. Damn it all to hell.