Chapter 866

Every mention of their three-year marriage sent a crushing weight onto Nathan Blackwood's chest, stealing his breath away.

No matter what he did, it never seemed enough.

Nathan knew those years had been filled with Evelyn Sinclair's unwavering devotion. He had been her entire world—her sun, her air.

Yet he'd failed to give her the love she deserved. So she vanished.

Sometimes, he wondered—if he had been gentler, if he hadn't forced her to donate blood for Vanessa Holloway, if he hadn't ignored her suffering—would their story have ended differently?

A shadow of pain crossed his sharp, cold features, twisting his smile into something bitter.

"Evelyn, you always know exactly where to strike."

He stepped closer, his dark eyes burning with intensity. His voice was rough, strained.

"I would never do anything you truly hate."

She avoided his gaze, recoiling from the icy aura surrounding him.

What did he want from her now?

"There's nothing you do that I like." She hugged herself tighter.

Nathan's expression hardened, his jaw clenching.

A cough escaped her, and her eyes flicked toward the drawer.

She walked over, pulled out a thick stack of cash, hesitated, then plucked two bills free. "Payment. Since you spent the night here." She shoved the money into his shirt pocket and tossed the rest onto the table before turning away.

Nathan's face darkened instantly.

No one dared treat him like this. It was a blatant insult.

His chest heaved. His fists clenched. The angrier he grew, the more helpless he felt.

He watched her stride to the living room for water, forcing himself to swallow the fury.

"You're too generous." His smile was gritted between teeth. "No need for so much."

Evelyn blinked, then smirked. "Consider the extra a tip."

Nathan exhaled sharply. Maybe he should stop humiliating himself.

Breathe. Control it.

The phone rang. Evelyn picked it up.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

She paused. "Preston?"

Surprise flickered through her. How had Preston Sinclair gotten this number?

Behind her, Nathan's entire demeanor turned glacial at the name. He suppressed the storm inside, standing motionless as the seconds dragged.

"I called your cell, but no answer. Lucas gave me this number. Didn’t expect you to pick up." Preston's voice was warm, relieved.

"Left my phone at the club last night."

Preston wanted to apologize for yesterday—face to face.

But Evelyn wasn’t in the mood. She declined politely.

When she hung up, she remembered Nathan’s presence.

She turned—and met his frigid, unreadable gaze.

Before she could speak, his lips curved into a chilling smile.

"Are you two really together?"

Evelyn didn’t owe him an explanation. "Not your business."

Nathan's smile turned lethal.