Chapter 369

Nathan Blackwood stepped out of the chairman's office and made his way back to his own.

Theodore Winslow had a fresh cup of coffee waiting. His brow furrowed with concern as he asked cautiously, "How did it go, Mr. Blackwood? I hope the chairman didn’t give you too much trouble."

Nathan moved to the sofa with effortless grace, sinking into the plush cushions. He lifted the cup to his lips, taking a slow sip, his expression unreadable.

"He didn’t."

Theodore exhaled in relief.

"As if that would ever happen."

Nathan’s voice was dry. "He’s never been much of a father to me."

Theodore scoffed. "Sometimes I wish he wasn’t."

Nathan downed the rest of the now-lukewarm coffee, its bitterness lingering on his tongue. "A shame I share half his DNA."

He set the cup down with deliberate calm. "Leonard has tasked Cassandra with convincing Isabella Wang to use our hotels as her wedding venue."

Theodore’s eyes widened. "What?"

Nathan smirked. "After all the effort we put into the proposal—countless meetings, sleepless nights—this is the thanks I get. Instead of acknowledging my contributions, he hands my work over to her." His jaw tightened. "No doubt Penelope Whitmore put her up to it."

"That’s not all," Nathan added, his voice dangerously soft. "If Cassandra succeeds, she’ll take over management of Blackwood Hotels."

Leonard had never been skilled at business, but he excelled at one thing—making his son’s life a living hell.

Theodore clenched his fists. "Did you challenge the decision? You can’t just let Cassandra steal your project!"

Nathan arched a brow. "Would it matter? Leonard and Cassandra are on the same team. He’s been looking for an excuse to strip me of authority."

His tone was eerily calm. "Cassandra just gave him one."

Nathan had long learned not to let every slight rattle him—otherwise, he’d have died of stress years ago.

"So we’re just supposed to sit back and take it?" Theodore hissed through gritted teeth.

Nathan said nothing, savoring the last traces of coffee.

Theodore hesitated before speaking again. "To be honest, I’m a little disappointed in Evelyn, Mr. Blackwood."

Nathan’s lips curled slightly. "You’ve always admired her. What changed?"

"Business is business," Theodore muttered. "She shouldn’t mix personal feelings into this. I think she’s trying to get back at you—leading you straight off a cliff."

Nathan’s expression darkened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over. "I understand her. I’ve hurt her before." The ghost of regret flickered in his eyes.

"But at this rate, you could lose everything in the company!" Theodore argued. "Sebastian Kingsley adores her. She’ll never see things from your perspective. You’re alone here, and she has the power of her family behind her. One day, she might just—"

"Don’t worry," Nathan interrupted, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I’m not so easily defeated."

His voice dropped lower. "Even if being her husband is in the past, I don’t deserve her if I can’t hold my ground. That’s why I have a plan."

Theodore leaned in. "What plan?"

Nathan closed his eyes briefly, exhaling before meeting Theodore’s gaze. "I have to win. All of it."

Theodore understood instantly.

If Nathan couldn’t claim victory, he’d rather burn everything to the ground.

"I won’t let anyone—or anything—stand in her way."

Nathan had an evening meeting scheduled, but he canceled it without hesitation. Instead, he drove straight to Monarch Grand Hotel.

Stepping into the grand lobby, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him.

The first time he’d come here, Evelyn had tricked him—making him climb endless stairs to her office only to humiliate him with a decoy.

The memory still stung.