Chapter 577

Nathan's eyes darkened as his jaw clenched. In one swift motion, he scooped up the boy and deposited him onto the nearest chair.

His dominance was absolute. Little Oliver didn't stand a chance against his strength.

Once settled, Nathan returned to his seat, loosening his collar. "There. Now we have space."

Evelyn shot him a warning glare. "Nathan Blackwood, he's just a child."

Nathan arched a brow, glancing at Oliver's red-rimmed eyes. "And? He's not ours."

Evelyn fell silent.

Oliver seethed, shooting Nathan a venomous look. His chest burned with frustration. If only he were older—he'd whisk Pretty Lady away and never look back.

"Pretty Lady, I can't eat with him here," Oliver muttered, his voice icy.

Evelyn sighed, turning to Nathan. "Leave."

Nathan's lips twitched. Harsh.

He forced a smirk, addressing Oliver. "Then close your eyes. Problem solved."

His gaze then slid back to Evelyn, voice dropping to a husky murmur. "It's been too long. Don't tell me you haven't missed me."

Evelyn smiled lazily. "You're hardly the only man in my life. Why would I?"

Nathan's expression darkened, but he reined in his temper.

He knew she was baiting him, trying to drive him away. But he wouldn't budge.

"None of them compare to me," he countered, eyes glinting with possessive intensity.

Evelyn ignored him, refusing to engage further in front of Oliver.

Dinner passed in tense silence. Nathan didn't touch his food—he just watched her, his gaze predatory. Like a panther stalking its prey.

Oliver stabbed at his kid's meal, shooting wary glances at Nathan. His small fists clenched. If only he weren't so powerless.

When they finished, Nathan insisted on driving them home. Evelyn refused, but he simply hoisted Oliver onto his shoulder and strode out.

Oliver yelped, flailing indignantly. He was being treated like luggage!

Evelyn had no choice but to follow.

Nathan suddenly caught her wrist. "The Whitmores' gala is tomorrow. We're going together."

Evelyn frowned. She'd received an invitation too but didn't know the occasion. Still, it was a networking opportunity—she'd attend regardless.

"No thanks. I'll find my own date."

Nathan's smile turned dangerous. "I'll pick you up at eight. If I see another man near you..." His voice dropped. "I'll ruin him."

Evelyn's lips curved coldly. Unfazed.

Nathan didn't let go. Her skin was so soft. So right in his grasp.

She belonged to him. No one else even deserved to look at her.

His grip tightened as they reached the car.

Evelyn pulled free. "What's the gala for, anyway?"

Nathan smirked. "Tristan Whitmore is remarrying his ex-wife."

Evelyn's stomach lurched. Suddenly, she really didn't want to go.