Chapter 4

The line went dead without warning.

Evelyn Hartley stared at her phone, the sudden silence pressing against her eardrums. A lump formed in her throat, sharp and unyielding. With trembling fingers, she typed out one last message to Nathan Black—short, final, a quiet surrender.

Then, without hesitation, she pried the SIM card from her phone and dropped it into the nearest trash bin. The action was swift, decisive. No turning back.

She slipped her phone into her pocket and walked away, her heels clicking against the pavement in a steady, determined rhythm. Today wasn’t just another day. Today was the day she left for Chixdon.

And she swore to herself—once she stepped onto that plane, Nathan Black would become nothing more than a ghost of her past.

Three Years Later

The Caldwell family estate in Owathe buzzed with energy, the grand banquet hall alive with laughter and the clinking of crystal glasses. The air was thick with the mingling scents of expensive perfumes and champagne.

The Caldwells, one of Owathe’s most powerful families, had spared no expense for tonight’s celebration. The return of their patriarch’s goddaughter from abroad was an event worthy of the city’s elite, and they had all come—politicians, business magnates, socialites—each vying for a glimpse of the woman who had been absent for years.

In a shadowed corner of the room, Dylan Reeves leaned in, his voice low.

“Nathan, isn’t it true that Evelyn’s back today too?”

Nathan Black stilled, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around his wine glass. He took a slow sip before nodding, his expression unreadable.

Dressed in a tailored navy suit, he exuded effortless authority, his presence magnetic even in silence.

“About damn time,” Dylan muttered, then turned to Serena Cole, who stood beside Nathan with practiced grace. “That woman Nathan married should’ve been out of his life years ago. Congratulations, Serena. It’s only a matter of time before you take her place.”

Serena’s lips curved into a demure smile. “Being by Nathan’s side is enough for me. Titles mean nothing.”

But the way her gaze lingered on Nathan betrayed her true desires. Everyone in the room could see it—the hunger, the expectation.

Nathan didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he tapped his glass absently, lost in thought.

Dylan smirked, nudging him. “Come on, Nathan. You adore Serena. Once Evelyn’s officially out of the picture, you’ll make her your wife, won’t you?”

Nathan remained silent, his jaw tense.

Serena opened her mouth to speak—but before she could, a hush fell over the crowd.

All heads turned toward the entrance.

The sharp click of heels against marble echoed through the hall, commanding attention.

And then—

She appeared.

A vision in crimson.

The dress clung to her curves, the deep V-neckline daring, the sequins catching the light with every step. The fishtail hem swayed with her movements, fluid and hypnotic.

Her face was a masterpiece—high cheekbones, full lips, eyes lined in dark kohl that only amplified their brilliance.

Evelyn Hartley had returned.

And she was stunning.