Chapter 2 - The Trap Tightens: Why Nathan’s Smile Was About to Fade
"Choosing a career that saves lives over inflating your fragile ego? Yes, Nathan, every single day," I replied smoothly, not giving him the satisfaction of looking rattled.
Olivia nervously adjusted the strap of her designer handbag, her eyes darting between Nathan and me. "Evelyn, please, let's not make a scene here. We're all adults."
"A scene?" Nathan scoffed, puffing out his chest. "Olivia, honey, relax. Evelyn is just bitter because she couldn't give me what every real man wants. A legacy. A bloodline. A son." He reached down and affectionately ruffled the toddler's golden curls. "Look at little Leo here. Absolute perfection. You couldn't manage a healthy pregnancy in eight years of marriage, Evelyn. Some women are just broken from the start."
The crowd in the hallway fell dead silent. Whispers began to circulate.
What Nathan didn't know—what none of them knew—was that I hadn't been unable to carry a child. I had chosen not to have his children. When I discovered his pathological pattern of infidelity and narcissistic abuse during our fourth year of marriage, I quietly went on birth control while pretending to try. I refused to bind myself to a monster.
And Olivia? Olivia thought she had hit the jackpot by stealing my unfaithful husband, completely ignorant of the financial and legal landmines Nathan had been burying beneath their feet.
"You're right, Nathan," I said, a slow, calculated smile spreading across my face. "I couldn't give you what you wanted. But someone else did. Or should I say... multiple people did?"
Nathan’s smug grin faltered for a fraction of a second. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," I whispered, stepping past him toward the elevators. "Enjoy your day at the hospital, Nathan. Make sure you check the pediatric ward directory very carefully. You never know who you might run into."
As the elevator bell chimed and the stainless-steel doors slid open, I stepped inside. But I didn't press the button to go up to surgery just yet.
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Because right behind me, stepping out of the adjacent elevator, was Attorney Marcus Vance.
And he was carrying two heavy, identical manila files stamped with the seal of the Illinois Supreme Court.
