Chapter 509

Nathan Blackwood's gaze was hollow, shadows clinging beneath his eyes as guilt twisted his expression.

He already regretted deceiving Evelyn Sinclair. But how could he possibly fix this?

Evelyn refused to meet his eyes. She strode past him without hesitation. At least she didn’t have to hide from him anymore. She’d linger a little longer, then leave.

Nathan watched her go as if they were strangers. Their relationship had plummeted back to the icy distance of their divorce.

That familiar chill could freeze a heart solid.

Yet he had fought so hard to thaw the space between them, to rebuild something resembling normalcy. How could he let it all crumble now?

Nathan took a step forward, ready to chase after her—until a frantic figure cut him off from behind.

"Nathan! Why the hell aren’t you answering my calls?"

Tristan Whitmore.

Nathan had blocked him after that incident. He’d planned to never see Tristan again.

But Tristan wasn’t the type to wait quietly for his own demise. Nathan hadn’t dismantled his company, leaving him just enough room to squirm.

They’d been close once. Brothers, even.

Unlike Zachary Whitmore.

Tristan always inserted himself into drama. Worried Nathan would evade him forever, he’d rushed here the moment he heard Nathan would attend Ethan Caldwell’s birthday party.

He’d never been this persistent, even when chasing women.

Evelyn vanished the second Nathan’s attention wavered.

A suffocating weight pressed against his ribs as he turned, pinning Tristan with a glacial stare.

Maybe he’d been too lenient.

Tristan, dressed like the epitome of a spoiled heir, grinned. "Nathan, did your finger accidentally block me?"

What a pathetic excuse.

Nathan’s voice was steel. "Get lost."

Tristan stiffened, teeth grinding. But he didn’t back down. "I already explained everything to Evelyn. I didn’t mean to screw up. I panicked when she confronted me—you know she has my nudes—"

His voice dropped to a whisper at the end.

Nathan’s frown deepened, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "So I’m supposed to suffer for your mistake?"

Tristan pressed his lips together. Silence stretched for a beat. "I was trying to drive a wedge between Preston and Evelyn for you. It backfired, but—"

He faltered. No justification came.

Nathan had no patience for his rambling.

Evelyn stood on the balcony, the evening breeze brushing against her skin. Below, the party unfolded like a staged play. Her fingers curled around a wine glass, elegance radiating effortlessly.

Ethan Caldwell appeared beside her, following her gaze.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t expect Adrian to invite people you’d rather avoid."

Evelyn arched a brow, indifferent. "It’s your birthday. Your happiness matters more."

Besides, even without Adrian, Nathan could go wherever he pleased.

They chatted briefly before a waiter approached, clutching an extravagant bouquet of roses.

He was definitely trying to make a scene.

Evelyn’s lips thinned as she stood motionless.

The waiter peeked out from behind the flowers, struggling to hand her a tucked-in card.

"Ms. Sinclair, this is for you."

She took it without protest.

Her eyes skimmed the message:

[Dear Ms. Sinclair, Dinner tonight? I’ll be waiting downstairs. —Xavier Delmont.]

Evelyn’s gaze lingered on the signature.

Xavier.

The same man who had fled from Nathan moments ago.