Chapter 397

The tatami stretched wide beneath them, the room bathed in perfect ambient lighting.

Evelyn Sinclair carefully maneuvered Nathan Blackwood's wheelchair into place, suppressing an exasperated sigh. This man is nothing but trouble.

"What else do you need?" she asked, her tone clipped.

Nathan tilted his head, his expression stubborn. "I don't want to sit here. Move me over there. It's more comfortable."

He hated being confined to the wheelchair.

Evelyn paused, her brows knitting together. "I can't lift you," she stated bluntly.

Not unless she wanted to risk paralyzing him for good.

She was convinced he was just being difficult on purpose.

With a frustrated sigh, Nathan braced his hands on the armrests, shifting his weight onto his left leg. Every muscle in his body strained with the effort.

Just that small movement sent beads of sweat forming along his temple.

Evelyn's instincts kicked in before she could think. She lunged forward, catching him before he could topple over.

His full weight pressed against her, making her breath hitch. His scent—clean, crisp mint—wrapped around her, dizzyingly close.

When she glanced up, she found his gaze filled with quiet guilt. The sharp retort on her tongue died instantly.

He wouldn’t be in this state if he hadn’t saved her.

She was being petty.

So instead, she steadied him silently, carefully lowering him onto the tatami, mindful of his injured leg.

By the time he was settled, both of them were breathless, their skin damp with exertion.

Despite the pain etched across his face, his eyes remained soft, almost tender.

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Tell me which files or laptop you need."

Before she could turn away, Nathan's fingers circled her wrist.

"No need," he murmured. "Just watch a movie with me."

His other hand reached for the remote. With a single press, the lights dimmed, the curtains slid shut, and a screen descended from the ceiling.

Evelyn froze.

All this trouble—just to watch a movie?

She whirled on him. "Nathan Blackwood, you're insufferable!"

Nathan merely smirked, his expression infuriatingly innocent.

"But I am sick," he pointed out.

Evelyn scoffed, yanking her hand free. "Watch it yourself."

"The doctor said I need relaxation and happiness to recover faster," he called after her.

Her steps faltered. Damn it. Did he really say that?

Nathan held out the remote. "You pick."

He remembered how unimpressed she’d been with his horror movie choice last time.

Evelyn snatched it from him, scrolling through the extensive library—new releases, classics, even unreleased films. Impressive, but unsurprising, given his investments in the industry.

She selected The Silent Dawn, a quiet, introspective drama, before tossing the remote aside and sitting as far from him as possible.

The space between them could fit two more people.

Nathan didn’t seem to mind. His lips curved slightly, contentment softening his features. Just having her here was enough.

Evelyn hugged a pillow, her expression relaxed as she skimmed the film’s synopsis.

Julian Moreau had a supporting role, but his presence was magnetic, stealing every scene he was in.

She focused on the screen, but the weight of Nathan’s gaze made her skin prickle. She shot him a glare.

"Aren’t you going to watch?"

Nathan blinked, feigning innocence before reluctantly turning back to the screen.

Then Julian appeared, and his jaw tightened.

A familiar, unwelcome tightness settled in his chest.

He closed his eyes instead, listening to the steady rhythm of Evelyn’s breathing.

Over an hour later, Evelyn was fighting off drowsiness. She glanced over—Nathan was already asleep, his arms crossed, his brow slightly furrowed even in rest.

She rolled her eyes. He insisted on this, and now he’s out cold.

Abandoning the film, she slipped out barefoot, careful not to wake him.

Her bodyguard stood sentinel outside. She pressed a finger to her lips before padding downstairs.

The lower floor was dim, seemingly empty.

But as she reached the kitchen, hushed whispers reached her ears.

"Yes, they’ve been upstairs for over an hour. Who knows what they’re doing?"