Chapter 65

Richard froze mid-step, suddenly flustered. "Uh... This is Mr. Nathaniel's residence, correct? I'm here to see his wife."

'His wife? Does he mean Evelyn?'

Just hearing Evelyn's name made Abigail's blood boil. She eyed Richard with open disdain. "What business could you possibly have with her?"

Richard took in Abigail's head-to-toe designer ensemble - all limited edition pieces.

He ventured a guess. "Miss, did you say this was your home? Could you be... Mrs. Grayson?"

Abigail's brow furrowed. This fool didn't even know what her brother's wife looked like.

She didn't correct him. "Suppose I am. Why are you looking for her?"

Richard's face lit up with an oily smile. "Mrs. Grayson, I believe you'd be very interested in learning about Mr. Nathaniel's... extracurricular activities. Care to discuss over coffee?"

'My brother's affair?' Abigail's curiosity piqued. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Not here. Follow my car."

Richard trailed Abigail's cherry-red convertible to an upscale patisserie. Once seated, he slid several photos across the table.

The images showed Nathaniel and Evelyn together - nothing scandalous. Abigail barely glanced at them. "Why are you showing me these?"

Richard blinked at her calm reaction. "Mrs. Grayson, that's Evelyn Whitmore - your husband's mistress!"

Abigail nearly choked on her latte. "Mistress?"

'This idiot has no idea,' she thought, suppressing a laugh.

Richard leaned in. "She's seducing Mr. Nathaniel with her youth and looks. I can help eliminate this problem... for a small favor in return."

Revenge against Evelyn? Now this was interesting. "What kind of favor?"

"Nothing difficult," Richard assured her. "Just a business investment."

Abigail smirked. "Deal. Get rid of that Evelyn bitch and make sure my broth—I mean, my husband despises her, and I'll secure that investment for Alpha Enterprises."

Richard practically glowed. "Pleasure doing business, Mrs. Grayson! Give me a week - Nathaniel will loathe her soon enough."

After he left, Abigail lingered, sipping her drink with malicious anticipation.

'Let's see you wriggle out of this one, Evelyn.'

The next morning, Nathaniel unusually joined breakfast at the estate.

Evelyn found herself the center of Margaret's fussing. The elderly woman fretted over her recovery. "Nathaniel, feed your wife! She's still weak!"

Evelyn protested, but Margaret insisted.

She expected Nathaniel to refuse - the ice-cold CEO would never stoop to such domesticity. To her shock, he smirked and began cutting her omelet into precise bites.

Forced to play along, Evelyn endured the mortifying display with a tight smile. A ringing phone finally saved her. She practically bolted from the table.

It was the dean of New Capital University calling.