Chapter 155

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Cliffside Manor as Evelyn Carter stood by the window, her fingers tracing the edge of the velvet curtain. She had always been the kind of woman who wouldn’t stir trouble unless provoked—but today, she had held her tongue.

Nathan Blackwood’s icy gaze settled on Victoria Sterling’s ashen face. His voice was low, controlled, but beneath it simmered something darker. "No matter how much you resent her," he said, each word deliberate, "Evelyn and I are already divorced. After Grandfather’s birthday, once the papers are finalized, we’ll have nothing to do with each other. That’s the end of it."

His next words were sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "And I expect you to stop harassing her. That’s my only request."

Nathan didn’t speak to Victoria again until the Maybach rolled through the wrought-iron gates of Cliffside Manor.

Evelyn endured the silence, her jaw clenched. She could feel the weight of Nathan’s indifference pressing down on her, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she silently cursed Victoria Sterling under her breath.

"I’m going upstairs to change," Nathan muttered, his expression stormy as he strode away.

Victoria’s nails dug into her palms. She refused to believe she had done anything wrong.

Evelyn stole my marriage. She had Nathan for three years. Three whole years! The thought burned through her like acid. Even if I tore that woman apart, it wouldn’t be enough. So what if I made her life miserable? Why is Nathan defending her now?

Half an hour later, Nathan descended the stairs in dark loungewear, Agnes Thornton trailing behind him.

From the living room, laughter spilled out—bright, mocking, cruel.

Cassandra Blackwood’s voice carried clearly. "We really need to hire a new chef. The food’s been awful since Evelyn left."

Penelope Whitmore chuckled. "That country girl could cook, I’ll give her that. At least she was good for something."

Victoria’s voice was honeyed with false innocence. "Did Evelyn really cook for all of you every day?"

"Of course!" Cassandra scoffed. "What else was she fit for? She should’ve been grateful just to marry into this family. The staff used to joke that she wasn’t the lady of the house—just a glorified maid. A high-end nanny with a fancy title!"

Nathan’s hands curled into fists.

Penelope added with a smirk, "Honestly, I thought she’d give up and file for divorce within a year. With Nathan ignoring her and the whole family making her life hell? I wouldn’t have lasted a week."

Cassandra sneered. "Thank God you came back, Victoria. Otherwise, that gold-digger might’ve clung to us forever."

Nathan’s voice cracked through the room like a whip. "Enough."

Silence.

The air turned frigid.

Victoria shot to her feet. "Nathan, we—"

"You took everything Evelyn gave," he cut in, his voice dangerously quiet, "and then you mocked her for it."

The three women froze.

For three years, Nathan had never defended Evelyn. He had let them treat her like dirt.

Now, suddenly, he was protecting her?

His next words were a warning. "Even if Evelyn and I are divorced, she was still my wife. And I won’t tolerate anyone insulting her—especially in my home."

His glare swept over them. "As the wife and daughter of Blackwood Industries’ chairman, I suggest you both learn some class. You’re embarrassing yourselves."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed back upstairs.

The women stood there, faces burning with humiliation.

Penelope’s lips curled in fury. "See that, Victoria? The man you’re going to marry is still defending another woman right in front of you!"

Victoria’s chest tightened. She spun to follow Nathan, but Agnes stepped smoothly into her path.

"I’m sorry, Ms. Sterling," the housekeeper said coolly. "The young master isn’t in the mood for company. You’ll be dining alone tonight."