Chapter 396

Evelyn settled onto the couch, idly scrolling through her phone while waiting for Nathaniel to finish changing. The minutes dragged by, and she tapped absently at a puzzle game to distract herself.

A half-hour later, his voice cut through the silence. "Ready. Let's go."

She glanced up—and froze.

Nathaniel stood before her in casual attire, a rare sight. Gone were the sharp lines of his tailored suits and polished dress shoes. His hair, usually styled with precision, now fell in loose waves, softening the intensity of his features. The effect was startling—youthful, almost disarming.

"Done staring?" He stepped closer, tapping her forehead lightly.

Evelyn blinked, rubbing the spot with a frown before shoving her phone into her pocket.

"Can't I look?" she countered.

He arched a brow. "If you like looking so much, why banish me to the study every night?" A smirk played at his lips. "Let me stay in your room tonight, and you can look all you want. Deal?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She stood abruptly, feigning indifference. "I was just thinking you look younger like this. Don't flatter yourself."

Nathaniel's expression darkened. "Are you saying I usually look old?"

Evelyn didn't hesitate. "Why do you think I call you mister?"

His gaze dropped. He leaned in, tilting her chin up with a finger. "If I'm not so old now, shouldn't you call me something else?"

She pretended to consider it. Then, brightly: "I'm starving, bro. Let's go."

Bro?

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Any other woman would have melted at that moment—but not her. With a resigned shake of his head, he followed her out.

Instead of summoning a driver, Nathaniel took the wheel of a sleek sports car, navigating toward a secluded villa nestled in the hills.

Evelyn stepped out, inhaling the crisp mountain air. The scent of grilled meat drifted from the villa, making her stomach growl. Before she could ask whose home this was, Nathaniel clasped her hand, leading her inside.

The yard was immaculate—manicured hedges, stone pathways, an understated elegance that spoke of wealth and taste. Then she spotted Dominic by the grill, sleeves rolled up, basting skewers with practiced ease.

He grinned at their approach. "Look who finally showed up—Nathaniel and the missus!"

Evelyn's gaze flicked past him to the floor-to-ceiling windows, where a lively crowd mingled inside. This wasn't just a casual get-together.

She crossed her arms. "What's the occasion?"

Dominic winked. "Your boy Dom's thirtieth. Figured we'd celebrate low-key."

"Happy birthday, then," she said dryly.

"Thanks." He extended a hand, palm up. "Where's my gift?"

Evelyn stared.

How was I supposed to know this was a birthday party?