Chapter 44 Exposure
Lena had raised her purse over her head, ready to block Nathan’s hit.
Her heart was still pounding from the sudden lunge. She waited for the hit.
But nothing came.
Instead, the restaurant went weirdly quiet… then the quiet turned into murmurs.
Lena slowly lowered her bag.
Then she noticed Nathan’s wrist was locked in someone’s grip—so tight Nathan’s hand was twisted slightly to the side. Nathan looked like he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t even move properly.
Lena’s eyes narrowed.
Whoever was holding Nathan like that wasn’t a random person. Because even if Nathan had been disowned, most people didn’t know. The public still believed he was a “Sinclair prince.”
Stopping him like this was basically saying: I’m not scared of the Sinclair family.
Lena followed the length of the arm upward to the person's face.
As expected, it really wasn't ‘some guy’
Nathan twisted his wrist, furious. “Who the fuck are you?! Let go of me!”
Rhys didn’t even blink. His voice came out calm, cold, and insulting in the most effortless way.
“The fact that you don’t know who I am,” Rhys said, “shows how stupid you’ve become.”
The restaurant reacted instantly.
Some people gasped. Some laughed, watching the drama with amusement
Lena swallowed and, in her head, gave him a slow clap. ‘As expected of the sharp tongued lawyer. Nasty and clean at the same time.’
Nathan’s rage surged. He hadn’t even looked properly before—he’d just heard the voice and assumed he could bully his way through like always.
When he finally lifted his head.
His pupils shrank.
He forced a sneer anyway. “Aren’t you Rhys from the Adler family? Stay the fuck out of Sinclair business.”
Rhys’s lips curved—not quite a smile. More like contempt that he didn’t bother hiding.
“If violence in public is now a Sinclair trademark,” Rhys said calmly, “then congratulations. You’ve lowered the bar so far even your family name can’t crawl under it.”
The murmurs grew louder. Phones were already up, recording from every angle.
Rhys tightened his grip just enough to make Nathan wince.
“Dragging a woman in public,” Rhys continued, voice steady, “raising your hand at her like a street thug…” His gaze sharpened. “If this is the standard you represent, then it’s not surprising the family felt the need to distance itself.”
Those words hit Nathan hard like a slap. Hitting at his sore spot of having been disowned
Lena’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Damn.’
Rhys released Nathan’s hand with a shove that sent him stumbling back.
“Touch my date one more time,” Rhys said, voice dropping colder, “and you’ll find yourself in court fighting for your life.”
Lena’s heart thudded hard.
She stared at Rhys like she was seeing him in a new light, for the first time.
She didn’t like him. She still thought he was creepy.
But right now?
He was terrifyingly… attractive.
The restaurant erupted in whispers and snickers.
“So because he’s a Sinclair he thinks he can do anything?”
“He thinks he actually stands a chance against Rhys. Funny.”
“Did he just say ‘my date’? Wow.”
“One is a lawyer, the other is blackmailing. What a contrasting pair.”
“This story just keeps giving.”
“A disgrace of the Sinclair family—ptuh.”
Nathan’s face twisted like he wanted to vomit blood.
“Rhys!” he bellowed, shaking with humiliation. “Why don’t you ask your date what she did before throwing shade at me? Didn’t you hear what I said first?!”
Rhys turned his head slightly toward Lena, calm as ever. “What did you do?”
Lena blinked.
For a second, she considered telling the truth.
Then she smiled sweetly. “N-nothing.”
Rhys looked back at Nathan, hands sliding into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.
“Heard that?” Rhys said. “She did nothing. You attack someone based on your own narrative. Where’s your proof? Where’s the logic?”
Then, without waiting, he nodded toward their table.
“Come. Sit.”
Lena followed him, still slightly stunned.
Behind them, Nathan stood in the middle of the restaurant like a clown who didn’t realize the circus had started.
The laughter, the phones, the whispers—it swallowed him whole.
Nathan clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.
“I’ll deal with her later,” he muttered, forcing himself toward the exit. “I can’t afford a lawsuit with Rhys Adler right now.”
As he pushed through the door, he spit the words out like poison.
“How the fuck did she even get close to someone like him… First Evelyn with my uncle, now this scheming bitch.”
His phone rang.
He stopped, breathing hard, then answered with a furious “Hello.”
A panicked voice screamed through the speaker.
“Quick—come home! Maya fell down the stairs! She’s bleeding badly!!”
Nathan’s face went pale.
“Fuck—”
He ended the call, frantically hailing a cab.
\---
Back at the hospital, Evelyn rolled her eyes as the door opened.
She’d pressed the call button earlier, and now someone finally decided to show up—right when she was about to get Roman to answer an important question.
She turned toward the door, ready to voice out her complaint at the slow response.
But the moment the young man stepped into the room in a lab coat, he froze.
The clipboard in his hand slipped and hit the floor.
His eyes locked onto Roman… then flicked to Evelyn.
His lips parted like he’d seen a ghost.
“Avery…?” he whispered.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ Roman closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He’d forgotten to warn him.
‘Great. Another slip-up.’
Evelyn’s brows pulled together.
Then—like a switch flipping—her throat tightened.
The antiseptic smell.
The white walls.
The IV line.
It hit her all at once again.
Her phobia surged up violently.
Her breathing turned shallow. Her palms went cold. Sweat broke out across her forehead.
Roman noticed instantly. His expression changed.
“Evelyn?” He asked quickly. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Evelyn tried to answer, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate.
“I… I…” Her voice broke. She stood up too fast, trying to leave.
The room tilted.
White spots danced in her vision.
Her knees buckled.
The last thing she heard was Roman’s voice calling her name in panic, before she fell into a warm embrace.
The young doctor moved in immediately, instinct kicking in faster than shock.
“Help me get her onto the bed,” he ordered, already guiding her down.
Roman stepped back just enough to let him work, but his eyes never left Evelyn’s face. His jaw was locked tight.
The doctor checked her pulse—wrist, then neck. His brows knitted.
Too fast.
He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm, then lifted her eyelids slightly to check her pupils.
Roman’s voice dropped into something dangerous.
“What the fuck, Theon?” he snapped under his breath. “Why would you say that name?”
Theon didn’t look at him. His focus stayed on Evelyn.
“It was a rapid stress response,” Theon said quietly. “Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.”
Evelyn’s chest rose in shaky, uneven breaths as if she were fighting for her life.
Roman’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
Author’s Note:
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for sticking with the story 🤍 I truly appreciate you. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story so far.