Chapter 424

"Decant the Lafite, Theodore." Evelyn Carter frowned and turned away with her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

Theodore Winslow's heart ached. He knew that look—she needed space, and he had learned to respect it, even when it pained him.

"I know what you're thinking," Evelyn said, her voice softer now. She turned back to him with a knowing smile. "You assume I despise Nathan because of our failed marriage. But we're not enemies, Theo."

She reached out, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. "If I want to establish Monarch Group in Crestview and expand our reach, I'm bound to cross paths with him. I'm just being pragmatic."

"But Ms. Carter—"

"What's there to fear?" She cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Are you worried he'll try something? Maxwell would put a bullet in him before Nathan even got the chance." Her laugh was light, almost careless.

Theodore swallowed hard. No, that's not it at all. His thoughts burned with unspoken devotion. I would lay down my life for you without hesitation. What terrifies me is the thought of you falling for him again. I couldn't bear to watch you walk back into that heartbreak.

With a heavy sigh, he took the bottle of wine and retreated, leaving her to the silence of the room.

The phone in Evelyn's palm buzzed insistently—persistent, just like Nathan Blackwood himself.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Blackwood?" Her voice was cool, detached, the way it always was with him now.

"Thank you for the cake. It was delicious."

Her breath hitched. Shadows flickered beneath her lashes as she clenched her jaw.

The night was still.

Nathan's voice, low and rough, curled around her like smoke. Once, she had craved the sound of it, dialing his number just to hear him speak, even when he was indifferent. She used to roll in bed, giddy with the thrill of his attention.

Now, it meant nothing.

She prided herself on discipline—on cutting ties with anything that could weaken her, even love.

"You're welcome," she replied, her tone icy. "Consider it a reminder to keep your opinions to yourself and stay out of my affairs."

"I wasn't interfering."

Nathan's voice darkened. "Your business is my business."

Evelyn scoffed. "Of course. You need me to put Cassandra in her place. If she secures the GM position at Blackwood Hotel, your dear stepmother might get ambitious again. And then where would you be?"

Nathan's expression soured.

Once, when she was still Evelyn Carter, she had put him above everything—tender, devoted, his in every way.

Now, her words were knives, and every conversation was a battlefield of schemes and power plays.

Yet, he couldn't let go. Not when she was the only woman who had ever made his heart bleed.

Pride meant nothing compared to her.

"Evelyn," he said, voice steady, "do you really think I care about Penelope and Cassandra? They can't touch me. If they could, I wouldn't have held my position this long."

He hesitated, something unspoken lingering between them.

Evelyn's fists tightened, knuckles white. "Stay out of my way, Nathan. As one ex to another—this is your only warning. When I'm angry, I don't care who gets caught in the crossfire. Things will get messy."

"Don't hold back on my account."

His voice was a whisper against her ear, even through the phone. "I can't promise much, but know this—no one will stand against you as long as I lead Blackwood Industries."