006

~Evelyn

My heart did a violent flip inside my chest. The dining room felt suddenly microscopic.

Everything he was looking for?

A man like Marcus Montgomery, a ruthless billionaire who could have anyone in the city, but he was looking at me, a woman whose own husband made her feel invisible, as if I were the only person in his world.

"Mr. Montgomery..." I breathed, my pulse hammering in my throat.

I couldn't even form a proper sentence, my hand instinctively coming up to touch the soft column of my neck where the silk of the nightgown rested.

Marcus didn't break eye contact. The vulnerability that had briefly caught him off guard vanished, replaced by a quiet, unshakeable certainty.

He picked up his wine glass, taking a slow sip, his stormy grey eyes tracking every subtle twitch of my expression.

"You don't have to say anything, Evelyn," he said, his voice returning to that smooth, authoritative baritone. "And you don't have to call me Mr. Montgomery when we're behind these doors. It's Marcus."

"Marcus," I repeated softly, testing the weight of his name on my tongue.

It felt taboo, like stepping over an invisible boundary, but the way his eyes darkened at the sound made a shiver run straight down my spine.

"Eat your dinner," he instructed gently, though the possessive edge in his tone remained. "Tomorrow, your new life starts. You won't just be surviving anymore. I'm going to make sure you thrive."

I nodded, picking up my fork with trembling fingers, but my mind was spinning out of control.

How could I tell him? How could I ever confess that the monster who had broken my heart, the husband who had cheated on me and treated me like a dirty secret... was his own estranged son, Julian?

If Marcus found out, a war would break out that could tear everything apart.

But sitting here under the warm glow of his penthouse lights, feeling the force of his protection, a dangerous thought took root in my mind, for the first time in three years, I felt safe.

And as I looked at the powerful man sitting at the head of the table, I knew that hiding this truth from him was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done.

The next morning, I stood in front of the full length mirror, adjusting the lapels of a tailored cream blazer.

Underneath, a dark emerald silk blouse draped over my plush chest, tucking neatly into a high waisted pencil skirt that hugged my broad hips and hourglass curves.

I took a deep breath, applying a subtle touch of lipstick, feeling a flicker of the sharp, confident corporate auditor I used to be before Julian shrank me into a ghost.

When I walked down to the garage, Marcus was already standing by his sleek black Maybach, looking towering and formidable in a charcoal suit.

"Good morning, Evelyn," he said, his stormy grey eyes sweeping over me with an appreciative gleam that sent a wave of heat straight to my cheeks. "You look stunning."

"Thank you, Marcus," I replied gently, stepping closer. "Are we... taking the same car?"

"Of course," he said, moving to open the rear door for me.

I hesitated, looking at the luxurious sedan. "Marcus... what will the other workers say if they see us dropping off together? The rumors at St. Claire Global will be relentless."

He paused holding the door open, his silver streaked hair framing an expression of unshakeable authority.

He looked at me with an intensity that demanded my full attention. "The first thing for you to do when retrieving your self esteem is to make sure public opinions don't matter to you, Evelyn," he said, his voice dropping into a low, firm baritone. "They can say all they want, but don't let it get into your head. You are here because of your brilliant mind, and you answer to no one."

A genuine smile broke across my face, the weight in my chest easing just a little. "Yes, Marcus," I answered obediently.

He smiled back, a rare, soft curve of his lips, and gestured for me to step in. I slid onto the seat, and he closed the door with a quiet thud before getting into the opposite side.

As the car glided out of the estate and into the bustling morning traffic of New York City, I looked out the tinted window.

My heart was still hammering with the secret I carried, that his son was the man who had broken me, but sitting beside Marcus, shielded by his raw power and absolute confidence, I felt ready to face whatever lay waiting for me at St. Claire Global.

The Maybach pulled smoothly into the executive underground garage of St. Claire Global Headquarters.

When Marcus stepped out and held the door for me, I held my head high, walking alongside him toward the private executive elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, Marcus adjusted his cufflinks and looked down at me.

"Before you head to your desk, accompany me to my son's sub company office," he said casually, his voice echoing in the quiet space. "He’s supposed to be in today to present his quarterly division reports."

The floor beneath my feet felt like it suddenly gave way. Blood rushed to my ears, and my hand instinctively gripped the handrail as my stomach twisted into a hard, painful knot.

Julian.

He caught the sudden drain of color from my face and the way my knuckles turned white. His stormy grey eyes narrowed slightly, filled with immediate concern.

"Evelyn? Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a protective shadow over me.

"I... yes, I'm fine," I lied quickly, forcing my breath to steady, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Just a sudden dizzy spell."

"My son is the head of this sub division," he continued, studying my face carefully. "He’s technically your direct manager, though you report to my audit team. You should know him."

I forced a tight, polite smile onto my lips, my throat dry as bone. "Probably... by reputation."

The elevator chimed, opening onto the top floor of the subsidiary suite. My legs felt like lead as I walked half a step behind Marcus down the plush carpeted hallway toward the double mahogany doors of the executive office.

He didn't bother knocking. He pushed the door open with the natural authority of a man who owned everything in sight.

The scene inside froze my blood.

Julian was leaning back in his desk chair, and sitting directly in his lap was Nadia. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair, and their lips were locked in a filthy, passionate kiss.

The moment the heavy doors swung open and Marcus's imposing shadow fell across the room, they broke apart instantly.

Nadia gasped, scrambling off Julian's lap so fast she nearly stumbled over her own heels.

Her short skirt was hiked up past her thighs, and she frantically yanked it down, her cheeks burning bright crimson.

She kept her head bent low, hiding her face behind her styled hair, and bolted past us out the door like a humiliated dog without daring to make eye contact with either of us.

Julian scrambled to his feet, adjusting his tie with trembling, sweaty hands, his face pale as a sheet as his eyes darted from his father to me.

Marcus stood frozen in the doorway, his broad shoulders squared, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles rippled beneath his skin.

"Look at the first impression you give me the moment I walk in with one of your staff, you just disgraced me,” Marcus’s voice dropped into a low, terrifying growl that vibrated through the floorboards.

He stepped into the room, his piercing grey eyes burning into Julian with pure disgust. "Is this what you do here, Julian?”