Chapter 225

No one could fathom how Nathan managed to say it with such solemnity. "Zoe, if I suffer any consequences from suppressing these urges, you'll be the one to blame..."

Upon returning to the Goldmann estate, Nathan swept Evelyn off her feet and carried her straight upstairs, tossing her onto the plush bed.

Evelyn scrambled to push against his looming figure. "The children—they're home! This isn't appropriate—"

"They're fast asleep." Nathan began peeling away her clothes like unwrapping a precious gift.

"But—the hotel suite! It'll go to waste!"

"That pocket change means nothing to me."

"Nathan—Mmmph!" Her protest was swallowed by his searing kiss.

Just as Evelyn gasped for air, Nathan abruptly pulled away, leaving an awkward tension hanging between them.

He turned his back, his chiseled profile suddenly rigid.

Evelyn blinked in confusion.

"That's it?"

Her sidelong glance at Nathan spoke volumes.

"This devastatingly handsome man with a godlike physique actually has... performance issues? So he truly never touched Vivian all those years. That night six years ago must have been a fluke."

"If that's the case... how tragic. But this concerns his masculine pride. Staying silent might wound him deeper."

"Given how wonderfully he treats the children, I should be more considerate."

"Nathan," she said gently, "even if you have... difficulties, I'd never judge you."

'Comforting him is the right thing to do, isn't it?'

Her words acted like a detonator. Nathan's gaze turned arctic. "Are you doubting my capabilities?"

Evelyn's reassuring smile froze as his weight pinned her down again. "Seems I need to prove myself."

What followed made Evelyn realize her grave mistake.

That night stretched into eternity.

Dawn arrived—

Evelyn pried her eyes open, every muscle screaming in protest, her throat raw.

'I should've kept my mouth shut!'

An arm snaked around her waist as a sleep-roughened voice murmured, "Awake already?" His breath tickled her nape.

Evelyn shuddered.

'This man grows insatiable!'

By twilight, Evelyn finally returned to Soul Jewelry, a high-necked blouse hiding the evidence of last night's activities.

At the studio's entrance, a statuesque figure stood examining the display window.

Her breath hitched when Lucas Laurent turned.

'Professor Laurent? What's he doing here?'

Perched on the sofa, Evelyn crossed her arms. "Did Madam de Arma send you?"

Lucas sipped his tea calmly. "Consider it so. Mother wishes to meet you. Knowing your reluctance due to the Vanderbilt entanglement, I came instead."

"My name is Vanderbilt—"

"Yet you deny that affiliation too," Lucas countered. "Your ties to them are tenuous at best."

Evelyn's fingers tightened around her cup. "Blood doesn't lie."

"Whether you claim the de Arma name matters little." Lucas set down his porcelain cup with deliberate grace. "Grandfather simply wants his granddaughter home."

He slid a business card across the table. "When you're ready to learn about your mother, contact me."

Evelyn's gaze caught the embossed crest—Royal Academy of Music. 'A professor? Interesting.'