Chapter 11

Lucas Sinclair wore a troubled expression as he sat in the passenger seat. With a quick gesture, he signaled the driver to pull over. Once the car stopped, he motioned for the driver to step out with him.

Inside the car, Evelyn Whitmore gripped the hem of the oversized white T-shirt, her face sullen. Slowly, she began lifting it.

Nathaniel Grayson leaned back, his forehead resting lazily on his knuckles. His indifferent gaze settled on her, though a flicker of amusement danced in his sharp eyes.

——

Meanwhile, back at Alpha Enterprises, Edward Whitmore—the general manager—was being torn apart by his boss, Frederick Kingsley. The reason? Allowing unqualified relatives into the company without proper vetting. Frederick issued an ultimatum: if Edward failed to recover the day’s losses and salvage the Holden deal, he’d be packing his bags just like his incompetent relative, Rachel Thornton.

Desperate, Edward sped off in his car, frantically calling contacts for a solution. Just as panic set in, he spotted Nathaniel’s sleek black Mercedes parked by the roadside.

Nathaniel was still here. A stroke of luck! Maybe he could explain the mishap with the proposal and claw back some hope.

Heart pounding, Edward parked nearby and jogged toward the luxury vehicle.

The heavily tinted windows made it impossible to see inside.

Edward hesitated, then leaned closer, knocking lightly. "Mr. Nathaniel? Are you there, sir?"

No response. The soundproofing was too good.

Is the car empty? Where could he have gone?

Glancing around and seeing no one, Edward reached for the door handle.

Inside, Nathaniel remained unmoved, watching Evelyn with detached interest. She, however, wasn’t about to surrender.

After being humiliated by his sister earlier, she refused to be a doormat for the Graysons for the next three months.

Gritting her teeth, she yanked the shirt off.

Luckily, she wore a modest tank top underneath—skimpy but not indecent.

Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. She actually did it.

Then—

The door swung open. Sunlight and cold air rushed in.

Before Evelyn could react, a strong arm yanked her against a firm chest. The scent of ambergris and tobacco enveloped her, making her pulse spike.

Nathaniel moved lightning-fast, draping his suit jacket over her and pressing her close to shield her from view.

Edward gaped.

Nathaniel Grayson was embracing a woman—her face buried in his chest, wrapped in his clothes, her bare legs exposed.

Edward’s stomach dropped.

He’d just interrupted something very private.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I—I’m so sorry, Mr. Nathaniel! I called out, but you didn’t answer, so I—"

Nathaniel’s icy glare cut him off. "Get. Out."

Edward slammed the door shut, trembling.

He was dead.

——

Evelyn squirmed, struggling to breathe. "What the hell was that?"

Nathaniel looked down at her, incredulous. She had the nerve to be annoyed? If he hadn’t acted, she’d be half-naked in front of a stranger.

Did she have no shame?

Releasing her, he snapped, "Put the shirt back on. You’re the Graysons’ lady now. Act like it."

Shameful? You’re the one who demanded it. Evelyn smirked. "So I can wear your shirt?"

Nathaniel’s lips twitched. Vengeful little thing.

"Fine."

She scoffed, yanking the shirt back on.

Nathaniel turned away, slamming the door behind him as he stepped out.

——

Outside, Edward was stammering to Lucas. "I swear, I didn’t mean to—please explain to Mr. Nathaniel—"

Lucas spotted Nathaniel approaching. "Sir—"

Edward spun around, bowing deeply. "Mr. Nathaniel, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—"

Nathaniel’s voice was lethal. "What did you see?"

Edward paled. "Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

Lucas stepped forward. "Sir, your sister called earlier. I stepped away to answer—my fault for not noticing him."

Nathaniel said nothing, lighting a cigarette. He exhaled slowly before turning to Edward. "Why are you here?"

Edward rushed to explain. "The proposal error—it was sabotaged by an intern! Not our company’s standard! Please give us another chance—"

Nathaniel arched a brow. "Sabotaged? By the one who fixed your system?"

Edward hesitated. "Uh—no, another intern. But both are fired! No more mistakes, I swear! If you could just spare twenty minutes—"

"No." Nathaniel’s expression darkened. She was fired?

He signaled Lucas. Assuming Evelyn was dressed, he turned back to the car.

Edward chased after him. "Mr. Nathaniel, this project is worth your time—just twenty minutes!"

Lucas blocked him. "He said no. Push it, and you’ll regret it."

Edward backed off, watching helplessly as the Mercedes drove away.

Then—

The rear window rolled down.

Edward’s blood ran cold.

The woman in Nathaniel’s car looked exactly like Evelyn Whitmore—the intern he’d fired that morning.