Chapter 101
The moment Damian Grant, Leonard’s eldest son, laid eyes on Evelyn Hartley, a flicker of confusion crossed his sharp features. "And this is…?" he asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.
Leonard chuckled warmly, his gaze shifting between them. "This is Evelyn. You don’t recognize her now, do you?"
Damian’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Evelyn?"
Evelyn offered him a small, polite nod before turning to the elegant woman seated beside him. "Rosalind," she greeted, her voice cool and composed.
The family of three before her consisted of Leonard’s eldest son, Damian, his daughter-in-law Rosalind Black, and his grandson Adrian Grant.
Damian and his sister, Georgina Grant, were Leonard’s children from his first marriage. After their mother’s passing, Leonard had remarried. His second wife, Margaret—nearly two decades his junior—had given birth to his youngest son, Nathan.
Damian had spent years living abroad, though the reasons were rarely discussed, while Georgina had married into a prominent family in Soling and seldom visited.
Rosalind acknowledged Evelyn with a measured nod, her surprise carefully concealed. Meanwhile, Adrian, seated beside his mother, studied Evelyn with a mix of awe and delight. The transformation in her appearance stunned him—she was breathtakingly beautiful, exactly his type.
"Evelyn," Adrian said, his voice dripping with something unreadable.
Evelyn met his gaze briefly, her expression icy, a glint of disdain flashing in her eyes. To her, Adrian was nothing more than a notorious playboy, infamous for his string of fleeting romances.
Rumors swirled that several of his ex-lovers had ended up pregnant, situations Damian had discreetly handled. In the past, Adrian hadn’t spared Evelyn a second glance, always regarding her with dismissive smirks.
Just as Damian opened his mouth to speak, the butler’s voice echoed through the hall, announcing Nathan’s arrival. The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension thickening the air.
Damian’s expression remained neutral, but a flicker of coldness darkened his gaze.
Nathan strode into the room, his demeanor calm, his sharp eyes sweeping over Damian’s family without a hint of surprise. He had expected their presence.
Damian rose first, forcing a polite smile. "Nathan, you’re back."
Nathan, however, met his brother’s forced warmth with an icy stare. His voice was razor-sharp. "Why are you back?"
The room plunged into an uncomfortable silence.
Three years ago, Nathan and Damian had been locked in a brutal power struggle. Damian’s defeat had led to his exile from the country.
Damian’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes lingering on Nathan, but he remained silent.
It was Rosalind who finally broke the tension. "Damian’s health hasn’t been the best lately. He underwent surgery not long ago. And with Leonard getting older, we thought it best to return and spend more time with him."
Leonard turned to Damian, concern etching his features. "You had surgery? What happened?"
"Nothing serious, Father. Just a minor procedure," Damian replied with a weary sigh. "I’m fine now. Though I must admit, I’m not as resilient as Nathan. Age catches up to you. Even a simple surgery felt like an ordeal."
He paused, his voice softening. "At this stage in my life, who knows how much time I have left? I don’t plan on returning to Grey Crest. I want to stay here—to take care of you."
The unspoken tension between the brothers crackled in the air, a silent battle of wills beneath the veneer of civility.