Chapter 162
A sharp rap against the car window shattered the tense silence.
Nathaniel Whitmore frowned, rolling down the window with deliberate slowness. "Who is it?"
A middle-aged man in a fluorescent traffic vest stood outside, arms crossed. "This is a no-parking zone. Move your vehicle to the hotel lot down the street." His tone left no room for argument.
Evelyn Carter immediately buried her face in her hands, cheeks burning with humiliation.
Nathaniel straightened his posture, his expression unreadable.
Robert Chambers and Frederick Whitmore sprang into action, swiftly relocating the car to a legal spot.
Yet, the air inside remained thick with discomfort.
Robert and Frederick exchanged glances, wishing they could evaporate on the spot.
Nathaniel looked disheveled—his tie discarded, his collar undone, and his suit jacket wrinkled.
Evelyn, meanwhile, discreetly adjusted her clothes before leaning forward. "Just drop me off at the next subway station," she whispered to Robert.
Robert hesitated, flicking a nervous glance at Nathaniel in the rearview mirror. Without explicit permission, he didn’t dare stop.
Evelyn stole a glance at Nathaniel beside her. His jaw was set, his expression unyielding.
Nathaniel finally broke the silence. "Pull over. You do realize fuel isn’t free, don’t you?"
Minutes later, the car halted outside the subway station.
Evelyn didn’t look back as she flung the door open and disappeared into the crowd.
Nathaniel watched until she vanished, his gaze lingering a second too long.
Robert cleared his throat. "Sir… should we stop by the hospital for that?" He gestured vaguely toward Nathaniel’s lip.
Nathaniel touched the small cut—courtesy of Evelyn’s teeth.
He exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto the seat beside him. "Find out why Evelyn went to Oakwood Village."
Something about her reaction had been off. And Nathaniel intended to uncover exactly what—or who—had unsettled her.
Evelyn rode the subway back to the studio, her mind racing.
Nathaniel’s impulsiveness had left her shaken. That kiss—if it could even be called that—had been more like an attack. No finesse, just raw desperation.
Hadn’t he learned anything from his time with Victoria Sinclair?
Cassandra Blake intercepted her at the studio entrance. "Evelyn! You’re back early." Her eyes flicked to Evelyn’s swollen lips. "You don’t look so good."
Evelyn met her gaze coolly. "Surprised to see me? Or did you expect I wouldn’t make it back today?"
If not for Nathaniel’s sudden appearance at Oakwood Village, she might not have.
The whole situation was suspicious. A high-profile design order, handed directly to her? Orders like that didn’t just fall into someone’s lap.
Cassandra’s earlier comment had carried an odd weight.
Now, under Evelyn’s scrutiny, Cassandra shifted uncomfortably. "Just making conversation. Why so defensive?"
Without waiting for a reply, she hurried toward the break room.
The moment she was alone, Cassandra dialed Penelope Whitmore. "It’s done. Evelyn’s made progress with Reginald Stewart."
A pause. Then, a smirk. "They haven’t slept together yet, but judging by her lips, it won’t be long."