Chapter 800

Evelyn's face twisted in fury. Her glare pierced through Nathan like a thousand needles.

She wanted to scream at him.

She wanted to vomit.

Alexander remained composed, letting out a quiet scoff.

He ignored Nathan completely and stepped forward. Then, with deliberate mischief, he twisted Nathan's words into something entirely different.

"He's saying you've gotten too heavy. That you take up too much space now."

Evelyn snapped.

"Nathan Blackwood, go to hell!"

She wanted to bite him.

Calling her fat was like insulting a fashion icon's taste or questioning a woman's self-discipline.

Sure, she'd been indulging lately—skipping the gym, enjoying lavish meals—but everyone around her swore she'd lost weight.

'Nathan Freaking Blackwood. Not just infuriating, but blind too.'

Nathan, oblivious to Alexander's jab, stared at Evelyn in confusion.

His chest tightened.

He'd mustered every ounce of courage to say those shamelessly romantic words—something utterly foreign for a man like him.

The line of cars ahead vanished down the road.

Nathan stood frozen, looking wounded.

His tall, imposing figure cut a striking silhouette against the cityscape.

Theodore cleared his throat. "Mr. Blackwood, shall we head back?"

Nathan climbed into the car, his expression stormy. The tension in the vehicle eased slightly.

"Why is she mad this time?"

The question was clearly directed at Theodore.

Theodore stiffened. "Ms. Sinclair... probably held it in the entire ride."

'She's been wanting to curse you out since the beginning.'

Nathan shot him a sharp look.

Theodore backtracked instantly. "Or—maybe she was overwhelmed by your heartfelt confession?"

Nathan stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Do I look stupid to you?" His voice was ice.

Theodore shriveled under the pressure.

"You don't say sweet things often, so Ms. Sinclair isn't used to it yet. You'll have to shower her with affection more—flatter her, charm her. We can't let that snake Preston Sinclair outshine you!"

Preston had the upper hand when it came to smooth talk. Nathan was at a clear disadvantage.

Silence filled the car.

Nathan closed his eyes, deep in thought. Theodore exhaled in relief—it seemed his excuse had worked.

Back at Blackwood Industries, Nathan headed straight to his office. Harrison intercepted Theodore.

"Theodore, there’s been chatter about our PR strategies lately. Last time, half the credit was yours. You wouldn’t betray Mr. Blackwood, would you?"

Such betrayals were common in their world.

Public perception was everything—it could resurrect the dead or bury the living.

If word got out about Theodore’s skills, competitors would swarm to poach him.

As Nathan’s right-hand man, Harrison had to monitor loyalty.

Theodore sighed dramatically. "Mr. Blackwood and I are inseparable. Nothing could break our bond. His trust in me goes beyond employer and employee—why would I leave?"

His matchmaking business wasn’t even launched yet.

Being his own boss was far better than working under someone else.

After a pause, Theodore added solemnly, "Not even for money."

Who could possibly offer more than Nathan Blackwood?

Staying by Nathan’s side meant power. Those trying to recruit Theodore were just kissing up to Nathan.

Right now, Theodore answered to only one man—and stood above everyone else.

He was addicted to this position.

The rush of superiority was intoxicating.