Chapter 217

Evelyn thought, Oh, so Victoria Sterling is officially moving into Cliffside Manor to live with Nathan as his wife now? No wonder he wants my things gone. If I were her, I'd be furious seeing my husband's ex-wife's belongings cluttering up the place. I get it.

"Mr. Blackwood, if my things are taking up space, just toss them out. No need to consult me." Evelyn's voice was icy, detached.

"What about the gifts you gave me over the years? Should I throw those away too?"

Evelyn scoffed, her tone dripping with mockery. "I didn’t give you those gifts. Evelyn Carter did. She might’ve treasured them, but to me? They’re nothing but trash."

Nathan fell silent, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a suffocating fog.

"In the future, contact my secretary if you need anything. I don’t take calls from strangers. Goodbye."

"Evelyn!"

"What now?" Her patience was wearing thin, her voice sharp with irritation.

"What about those costumes? You kept them meticulously preserved in garment bags. Don’t you still want them?"

Nathan’s voice turned colder, more commanding. "If you don’t come get them, I’ll assume you’ve abandoned them—and I’ll dispose of them as I see fit."

Evelyn’s chest tightened. She hesitated.

Each of those exquisite costumes had been part of Camille Kingsley’s private collection, painstakingly handcrafted with intricate detail.

When Evelyn had asked to borrow them for a performance for Reginald, Camille had opened her entire wardrobe without hesitation, even insisting Evelyn keep them.

She couldn’t let Camille’s generosity be destroyed by that arrogant bastard. With a resigned sigh, she relented. "Fine. I’ll send my secretary to Cliffside Manor tomorrow to collect them."

"No. You’ll come in person."

Nathan’s tone was imperious, as if he held all the cards. "I won’t let your secretary in. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow. Goodbye."

The line went dead.

Damn him! Evelyn glared at the darkened screen, fury simmering beneath her skin.

They were just clothes, yet Nathan acted like he’d uncovered some hidden vulnerability of hers.

Fine. She’d go—and treat it like a game of exorcising demons.

The next morning, Evelyn and Arabella freshened up and headed to the dining hall for breakfast.

Sebastian had an early meeting at the office, so he’d already left. Harrison, his three wives, and Dominic were already seated.

"The sleepyheads finally grace us with their presence! We’ve been waiting forever." Dominic propped his chin on his hands, grinning teasingly at his sisters.

"Arabella and I haven’t seen each other in ages. We stayed up late catching up." Evelyn yawned, her eyes slightly bloodshot at the corners.

Arabella, however, looked radiant—her skin glowing, cheeks flushed with vitality. Youth truly was wasted on the young. Evelyn would never bounce back so effortlessly.

Harrison sat at the head of the table, his gaze fixed on Evelyn. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t slept well.

Who would’ve thought a single chair could rob the wealthiest man in Fairhaven of a night’s rest?

Evelyn felt no guilt. She ate with her usual appetite, as if last night’s incident had nothing to do with her.

The gift had been given. No take-backs. Harrison would just have to live with it.

As Evelyn rose to leave, Harrison’s cold voice cut through the air. "Do you still have feelings for that Blackwood boy?"

The table froze.

Evelyn answered calmly. "No."

"Then you’re completely over the divorce?"

"Harrison, we’ve known each other for twenty-four years. If you have something to say, spit it out. Don’t waste my time with pointless tests." Evelyn dabbed her lips elegantly with a napkin.

"Fine. Quentin!"

Harrison’s chief secretary hurried over, handing him a document. Harrison snatched it and flung it across the table at Evelyn.

"What’s this?"

"A list."

"What list?"