Chapter 493

Nathan chuckled, his deep gaze piercing through her. "You wouldn't have stepped out if you didn't want to see me."

The moment Evelyn had chosen to leave the safety of the room, it was a silent admission—she wanted this encounter as much as he did.

The security at Mr. Donovan’s banquet is among the strictest in the city. And as Richard Vanderbilt’s daughter, who would dare lay a finger on me so recklessly?

But then again, he’s always been audacious. He did it without hesitation.

Her pulse quickened. She had known the power outage was deliberate. She had suspected it was him.

Evelyn scoffed. "Still as shameless as ever, Mr. Goldmann."

Nathan didn’t deny it. His silence was confirmation enough.

She didn’t want to linger in his presence any longer. Turning to Sadie, she said, "Let’s go downstairs."

Sadie nodded, casting a wary glance at Nathan before following closely behind Evelyn.

Then, his voice, low and commanding, stopped her in her tracks.

"If you’re considering a partnership with Wesley, you might as well choose me instead."

Evelyn froze.

Nathan closed the distance between them, standing beside her now. "I think you’ll agree—for the sake of the de Armas family."

Without waiting for a response, he strode ahead, leaving her standing there.

Her fingers unclenched slowly. The ghost of his touch still lingered on her lips—his scent, his breath, the heat of him.

Could she forget the man who had walked away from her over a thousand days ago?

No.

She had never forgotten.

Nathan Goldmann was like an addiction—one taste, and she was ensnared. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t suppress the urge to reach for him. And now, after that kiss, she was lost in a haze of memories.

Ridiculous.

When she returned to the banquet hall, Nathan was already seated in his wheelchair, composed and unreadable, conversing with Wesley and a group of foreign investors.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes.

He doesn’t look sick at all. So why the wheelchair? Is this an act, or is there something I don’t know?

"Ms. Vanderbilt, you’re back." Wesley’s gaze settled on her, appreciative. "That gown suits you perfectly. A gift from Mr. Goldmann?"

Even behind the mask, her elegance was undeniable. The way the fabric draped over her figure, the way the light caught the emerald silk—she was mesmerizing.

Evelyn offered a polite smile. "Yes. Mr. Goldmann has been… generous."

Nathan lifted his wine glass slightly. "Glad you like it, Ms. Vanderbilt."

As the ball commenced, Wesley extended his hand. "May I have this dance?"

She didn’t refuse. Placing her hand in his, she let him lead her onto the floor.

They moved in perfect sync, their steps fluid beneath the shimmering chandeliers. To the onlookers, Evelyn was a vision—graceful, untouchable, a goddess woven into the rhythm of the waltz.

Three years ago, she had been the same dazzling presence at the Bouchers’ gala.

Oliver watched Nathan carefully. Though his expression remained impassive, his gaze darkened as it followed Evelyn across the dance floor.

When the music ended, applause erupted around them.

Evelyn inclined her head. "I’ll remember this dance, Mr. Donovan. But I must take my leave now."

Wesley didn’t press her. "Until next time, then."

She left swiftly with Sadie, not once looking back.

But she could feel his eyes burning into her.

In the car, Sadie finally spoke. "You know him, don’t you?"

Evelyn hesitated, then let out a humorless laugh. "You could say that."

We were married. We had children together.

How did we end up like this?

The East Ind Vi’s courtyard was aglow with lights, but the grandeur felt hollow—a beautiful shell without a soul.