Chapter 10

At Cliffside Manor, Nathan Blackwood stood frozen for several moments after his ex-wife abruptly ended the call.

Her tone had been so icy, so final. Was this really the same woman who had once wept and pleaded with him not to sign the divorce papers?

Had she truly felt nothing for him in the past three years? Had she merely tolerated his family for some hidden motive?

The more he dwelled on it, the angrier he became.

"Mr. Blackwood, your coffee."

Oliver Sinclair entered the study, taking in his employer's stormy expression. "Did you manage to reach Ms. Carter? Did you get her new number?"

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. In his earlier fury, he had completely forgotten the purpose of his call.

He had expected to feel relief after Evelyn left. Instead, all he felt was irritation—especially knowing she was now with Sebastian Kingsley.

How dare she play with his emotions like this?

"Maybe next time. I don’t have the patience to deal with that woman right now."

He picked up the coffee and took a sip, then frowned.

"What’s wrong? Does it not taste right?"

"I followed the exact instructions Ms. Carter left behind," Oliver said, scratching his head in confusion.

"Instructions?"

"Before she left, she gave me a small notebook. It detailed all your food and drink preferences, even noting every meal you’ve had with dates and times."

As he spoke, Oliver pulled out the notebook and handed it to Nathan.

Nathan hesitated before flipping it open.

Inside, he found meticulous handwriting—just as disciplined as Evelyn had always been before the divorce.

"Add a pinch of salt to his coffee to enhance the flavor. Nathan prefers it that way."

"Nathan had two bowls of seafood chowder today. I should make it more often."

"He dislikes sweets. Next time, I’ll try cheese crackers or butter cake for tea."

"Bought him several ties last year, but he never wears the ones with red accents. Note: avoid red."

Nathan.

Nathan.

Nathan.

Every single line was about him.

His fingers tightened around the notebook as he slowly turned the pages. His breath hitched, as if afraid the words might vanish if he exhaled too harshly.

His expression darkened, his grip crumpling the paper.

"She’s been studying me like some kind of experiment. This just proves she had ulterior motives!"

Despite the strange tightness in his chest, he tossed the notebook into the wastebasket.

"Mr. Blackwood, don’t throw it away! Ms. Carter spent years compiling this. If she didn’t care, why would she bother? This proves how much she loved you!" Oliver quickly retrieved it, his heart aching for Evelyn.

"Stop calling her Ms. Carter. She doesn’t deserve the title."

Just then, a loud crash echoed from outside the study.

It came from the right wing of the corridor—where Evelyn’s old room was.

"Go see what that is," Nathan ordered, rubbing his temples.

Oliver hurried out and returned moments later, looking uneasy.

"Mr. Blackwood, it’s Ms. Sterling. She’s—"

"What’s Victoria doing?"

"She’s… clearing out everything from your ex-wife’s bedroom."

At that moment, Victoria was in the midst of a tantrum, hurling Evelyn’s belongings across the room.

"That peasant! Who does she think she is, acting so high and mighty just because the old man favored her? That stupid bracelet isn’t even worth anything!"

Since Evelyn had left with nothing, Victoria seized the opportunity to destroy what remained—shattering skincare bottles, tearing down decorations, turning the room into chaos.

Nathan walked in just as she flung open the closet.

"Victoria! What the hell are you doing?"

"I can’t stand her traces in this house!"

Victoria burst into tears when she saw him. "If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have lost three years together! She stole my place, and now she acts like I’m the villain!"

"You’re not a villain," Nathan said, though his voice lacked conviction.

His gaze fell on a shattered jade figurine on the floor. He bent to pick it up, surprised to find it shaped like a toad—winking and flashing a peace sign.

Against his will, his lips twitched.

Then Victoria yanked open a large box.

"What’s this?"

Inside was a finely tailored men’s suit, crafted from luxurious fabric.

"Ha! Did Evelyn make this for Sebastian? Has she already moved on to her next husband?"

Nathan’s expression darkened instantly. He strode forward and snatched the box away.

"Nathan, she’s despicable! I thought she married you out of love, but she was just using you!"

Victoria’s eyes burned with fury. She grabbed a fruit knife from the coffee table and lunged at the suit.

Nathan reacted swiftly, shielding the box with his body.

The blade sliced across his forearm, staining his white shirt crimson.

Victoria gasped, the knife clattering to the floor. "Oh my God! Nathan, I—I didn’t mean to!"

She burst into hysterical sobs as Penelope Whitmore rushed in with several maids.

"What happened?!"

Penelope paled at the sight of blood dripping onto the carpet. "Nathan, how did you get hurt?"

"Oliver, arrange a car to take Ms. Sterling home," Nathan said through gritted teeth.

"Nathan, I don’t want to go! Let me stay and take care of you!" Victoria clung to him desperately.

"She should stay," Penelope insisted. "It’s only right that she tends to your injury."

Her eyes gleamed with calculation—if Victoria stayed the night, she might finally secure their marriage.

"No. She goes home." Nathan’s tone brooked no argument.

"But you’ll marry her eventually!"

"We’ll have plenty of time after the wedding. For now, she should be with her family. Besides, my divorce isn’t finalized. It’s inappropriate for her to stay."

Penelope had no rebuttal.

Once Victoria was gone, Nathan surveyed the wrecked room and sighed. "Clean this up."

"Mr. Blackwood, come look at this!"

Oliver stood by the closet, holding up an exquisite gown.

Nathan approached, studying the delicate pink fabric embroidered with lifelike peonies. The craftsmanship was unmistakably expensive.

Peonies—symbols of true beauty.

His lashes flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes.

"Does Ms. Carter perform? If so, that’s incredible!" Oliver couldn’t hide his admiration. He’d always held a soft spot for his boss’s ex-wife.

Nathan’s jaw tightened.

"Haven’t you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Actors make the best liars."

His lips pressed into a thin line, irritation coiling in his chest for reasons he couldn’t name.