Chapter 361

Nathan Blackwood remained silent for an uncomfortably long moment. His piercing gaze held a bitterness that made his chest constrict painfully.

Breathing became an effort.

During Evelyn Sinclair's marriage to him, she had never received the respect she was owed.

Each recollection of this truth left him gasping for air.

Evelyn had long since stopped dwelling on those insignificant memories. She understood now that those three years had been nothing but her own foolish fantasy. Only sheer determination had carried her through that dark period.

The past was dead to her. She wanted it buried forever.

Nathan's intense stare burned into her. His dark eyes were pools of regret. Seeing her casual indifference as she spoke made his lungs seize again.

His fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. "It won't... happen again," he forced out.

Nathan vowed silently to always put her first now, to cherish her properly. He'd never take her for granted again.

Evelyn's smile didn't reach her eyes.

There would be no future between them.

She had clarity now. Nathan Blackwood would never again hold her heart.

She lifted her teacup and took a deliberate sip.

"Get to the point."

After all, she hadn't come here to listen to his maudlin regrets.

Nathan lowered his lashes, brow furrowing slightly. He took only a moment to compose himself before looking up.

"The reason Lawrence Whitmore is so confident," he began smoothly, "is his connection."

Nathan met Evelyn's gaze squarely. "Preston Sinclair's butler."

Evelyn's brows shot up. "Butler?"

Nathan nodded. "Though just a servant, he holds Preston Sinclair's complete trust. Sometimes, the butler's word can sway Preston's decisions."

"Is Preston Sinclair his puppet?" The thought escaped before Evelyn could stop it.

But Nathan merely smiled and continued. "This butler frequently visits Montecito on Preston's behalf. He always meets with Lawrence Whitmore during these visits because Lawrence's birth mother is the butler's adopted mother."

Evelyn's cup clattered against its saucer. "That's the connection?!"

No wonder Lawrence Whitmore had gambled his entire family fortune to secure this opportunity for his son Damian.

If this butler truly held such influence with Preston Sinclair, the Whitmores would undoubtedly win this deal.

Evelyn inhaled sharply. She was swimming with sharks now.

The food arrived. Nathan's tone lightened. "Let's eat first."

Evelyn eyed the exquisite dishes without appetite.

Nathan moved to serve her, but she subtly shifted her plate away.

"I'll help myself."

His hand froze mid-air before retreating to serve himself instead.

"Of course."

Though she'd eaten nothing since morning, Evelyn only picked at her food.

Nathan barely touched his meal, his attention fixed on her instead.

He studied the delicate arch of her brows, the perfect curve of her lips, wishing this moment could stretch into eternity.

Even he couldn't comprehend his own actions. He'd expended considerable effort uncovering this secret, only to trade it for... a meal with her.

He'd debased himself just to see her content.

Yet somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Nathan didn't know when he'd become this person, but since he couldn't change his feelings, he'd embraced this new version of himself—one hopelessly, helplessly in love with her.

Outside, rain began to fall in a gentle drizzle.

Tiny droplets rippled across the garden pond's surface where koi swam lazily.

When Evelyn set down her fork, Nathan rose.

"I'll drive you back."

Evelyn stopped him with a look. "Nathan Blackwood, don't waste your time on me."

Her rejection couldn't have been clearer.

There would be no second chances.

Nathan stood tall in his charcoal overcoat, the picture of effortless elegance.

He answered lightly, as if it didn't matter. "It's no waste if I choose to spend it this way."

Mountains of work awaited him at the office, yet here he sat, content to watch her eat lunch.

He must be under some kind of spell.