Chapter 357

Nathan's words struck Evelyn like a dagger to the heart.

Why was she feeling this way for Nathan Blackwood? She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly as a sharp sting pricked behind her eyes.

No. She wouldn't let this weakness take hold.

Lifting her chin, she met his gaze with deliberate coldness.

"Good. At least you understand."

His eyes were bloodshot, his lips pressed into a thin line. The proud, commanding figure she knew so well now stood before her, radiating a loneliness that made her chest ache.

He had tried threats—she hadn't flinched.

He had shown vulnerability—she hadn't softened.

Against Evelyn Sinclair, Nathan Blackwood was utterly powerless.

A commotion outside the private room drew Tristan Whitmore rushing in.

"Blackwood, hurry! Gregory's dragging Celeste to the hospital— Oh. Evelyn's still here?"

She offered him a faint, polite smile before turning on her heel.

Her retreating figure was unyielding, her steps decisive.

Nathan could only see the ice in her eyes—the indifference that had shattered him.

He didn't shout. Didn't lose control.

Outwardly, he was composed.

But his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, veins standing stark against his skin.

Tristan called his name, but Nathan didn't move.

He didn't need to. Tristan could already guess what had happened.

Just as he opened his mouth to offer some semblance of comfort, Nathan turned abruptly and strode away.

Tristan called after him, but the storm brewing in Nathan's eyes made him hesitate.

Before he could follow, another scream erupted from Gregory's private room.

With a curse, Tristan rushed back inside.

Evelyn returned to Adrian's private room. The moment Ethan Caldwell saw her expression, he knew Nathan had lost this round.

In love, the one who fell first always loved harder.

Adrian had indeed ordered a bottle of vintage Château d'Yquem for her, but she had no appetite for it now.

All she could think about was the raw pain in Nathan's eyes.

Had she gone too far?

But sooner or later, he would have to accept reality. She would move on. He would marry someone else.

Gregory's private room was several doors down, far enough that the noise didn't reach them.

What no one realized was that the building's layout twisted in an irregular S-shape. Their balcony was actually adjacent to Gregory's.

Needing air, Evelyn stepped outside.

From the neighboring balcony, Tristan caught sight of her and immediately ducked behind the curtains.

Now was not the time to face Her Majesty.

Ethan joined her, handing her a glass of the prized wine.

"Bad mood?"

She accepted it with a wry smile, watching the city lights blur through the evening fog.

"Not as good as yours, apparently."

Ethan chuckled. "Right. Because you played your part flawlessly."

He raised his glass, clinking it lightly against hers before downing it in one go.

Evelyn took a sip. The wine was rich, velvety, with just the right sweetness. It lingered on her tongue, warm and intoxicating.

"You weren't bad either. We made quite the convincing couple."

Perhaps anger had fueled his performance.

Hidden behind the curtains, Tristan's legs nearly gave out from sheer panic.

After what felt like an eternity, the two finally left the balcony.

Trembling, Tristan fumbled for his phone and sent the recording to Nathan.

Finally, the man could rest easy.

Nathan's phone lit up with the notification. He tapped it.

Ethan's voice came through first.

"Right. Because you played your part flawlessly."

Then Evelyn's.

"You weren't bad either. We made quite the convincing couple."

The clink of glasses.

Nathan froze.

He replayed it. Again. And again.

The suffocating weight in his chest dissolved. The storm in his eyes cleared.

A slow, triumphant smirk curved his lips.

A fake relationship.

Leaning back in the car seat, he exhaled deeply, finally relaxed.

Then his eyes snapped open.

"Harrison," he ordered the driver. "Turn the car around."

If it was all an act, then Ethan Caldwell was no threat at all.

The tempest inside Nathan had vanished, replaced by clear skies.

"Yes, sir." The driver didn't dare delay.