Chapter 175

The bathroom door swung open, and Nathan stepped out, his gaze lazily drifting toward Ethan.

"Aunt Evelyn, he's being insolent," Nathan drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. "He dares to address you so casually. Unlike me—I know my manners."

Evelyn gave a slow, approving nod, as if bestowing wisdom upon a child. "I’ll reward your politeness with a gift this Christmas."

Nathan shot Ethan a triumphant look. "Hear that? Aunt Evelyn’s getting me something special."

Ethan’s expression darkened, his eyes sharp with disdain. "Are you seriously bragging about a Christmas gift like a child? Who’s the elder here—you or her?"

Nathan scoffed, unfazed. "I’m a grown man. What’s wrong with appreciating a thoughtful gesture? Respect isn’t about age—it’s about courtesy."

He leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. "Besides, with that attitude, even if you begged, she wouldn’t give you a thing. Face it—you’re just jealous."

Ethan let out a derisive laugh. "Jealous? Of you? Don’t flatter yourself."

But Nathan had a way of needling under people’s skin. The tension between them thickened, Ethan’s glare turning stormier by the second.

"If you're not jealous, then why are you still arguing with me?" Alexander challenged, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk.

Even Evelyn, who had been silently observing, had to admit—the man was insufferably good at verbal sparring. He never lost.

Vanessa's voice cut through the tension as she approached. "What's going on here?"

Evelyn barely suppressed an eye roll. "And here comes the second person with zero respect for her elders," she muttered under her breath.

She turned to leave, but Vanessa called after her.

"Mom and Dad want you home. They're expecting you for dinner tomorrow," Vanessa announced.

Ever since the news broke about Evelyn and Alexander's marriage registration, Richard and Margaret had been relentless. Calls. Texts.

Evelyn had ignored them all, but the messages kept coming.

[You married Alexander Whitmore? When are you bringing him home?]

Variations of that same demand flooded her inbox daily.

She didn’t need to be a genius to guess their motives.

Alexander Whitmore was the formidable CEO of Titan Capital Group, a man whose influence could move mountains. Now that he was Evelyn Carter's husband, Richard Hayes saw an opportunity he couldn't ignore.

Under normal circumstances, securing a meeting with Alexander required scheduling weeks in advance through his assistant. Even then, approval wasn't guaranteed.

But now?

Richard could barely contain his glee.

All he had to do was frame it as a simple family dinner, and Evelyn would bring Alexander without the usual corporate formalities.

Evelyn, however, had long since seen through their schemes.

She blocked both Richard and Vanessa Hart’s numbers without hesitation.

Just as she began enjoying a few peaceful days, Vanessa reappeared as their messenger.

"Fine," Evelyn said coldly. "You want me to come home? Have you prepared the paperwork to transfer Hawthorne Estate into my name?"

Vanessa’s expression froze at the mention of the estate.

That day, Evelyn had made a bet with Richard.

If she married Alexander Whitmore, Richard would sign over the Hawthorne Estate—their grandfather’s prized property—from Vanessa’s name to hers.

Vanessa hadn’t expected Evelyn to still be holding onto that demand.

Her eyes darkened with irritation.

Vanessa's face flushed crimson.

"You and Oliver both hold 8% shares in Horizon Enterprises. I have this house, and you still want to take it from me?" Her voice shook with barely contained fury.

Evelyn didn't even dignify Vanessa's theatrics with a response.

"If it were yours, taking it would be theft."

Her tone was ice-cold, sharp enough to cut through steel.

"But since it's rightfully mine, reclaiming it is simply justice. Do you understand now?"

The mocking lilt in Evelyn's words made Vanessa's fists clench at her sides.

Without another word, Evelyn turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Vanessa standing there, trembling with rage.

The air between them crackled with unspoken threats.

Vanessa's nails dug into her palms.

This wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.