Chapter 56

Evelyn mentally cataloged every alteration in the grand living room, making notes for her redesign plans. She intended to finalize the sketches at home tonight.

The doorbell's chime interrupted her thoughts. Abigail moved to answer, finding two middle-aged women on the doorstep. "May I ask who you're here to see?"

"Move aside, servant!" The older woman pushed past. "We're here to see the lady of this mansion!"

"That's right! I'm your employer's mother-in-law!" The younger one shoved Abigail aside, storming into the foyer.

Evelyn's head snapped up from the sofa. Her fingers tightened around her sketchpad as she recognized the intruders. "Dorothy? Beverly? What are you doing here?"

Dorothy Caldwell ran her wrinkled hands over the Italian leather couch, eyes gleaming. "Imagine my surprise when Henry mentioned you'd married into wealth, Evelyn. Living in this palace while your family struggles!"

Beverly Simmons' shrill voice cut through the air. "You told us your husband was some penniless laborer! Said you dropped out of college to become his housemaid! And all this time you've been living like royalty with servants at your beck and call!"

Evelyn's blood ran cold. Henry Peterson - the cab driver from their old neighborhood. She'd been careless letting him drop her at the gated community entrance. Though she'd never revealed which mansion was hers, these vultures had clearly gone door-to-door.

Beverly's envious gaze devoured the crystal chandeliers and marble floors. "You selfish little witch! We could've used that competition prize money! Do you know how many doors we knocked on to find you?"

Evelyn's hands trembled with barely contained fury. "You have no shame! Get out before I have security remove you! My husband's wealth is none of your concern!"

Dorothy dramatically slapped her own thigh, launching into theatrical sobs. "Throw your own grandmother out on the street? Let's see what the neighbors think of that! A granddaughter abandoning her family after striking gold!"

For the first time in her life, Evelyn felt pure, unadulterated rage. These parasites had followed the scent of money straight to Nathaniel's doorstep.

Beverly licked her lips greedily. "That million-dollar prize money would solve all our problems. With a rich husband, you don't need it anyway. Your brother needs it more - how's he supposed to marry without a proper dowry?"

Evelyn's laugh was ice. "Not a single cent."

"Fine!" Dorothy snapped. "Then have your millionaire husband buy your brother a penthouse! Something befitting our new social standing!"

Beverly's eyes lit up. "Yes! A mansion just like this one! With servants and everything!"

Evelyn's control shattered. She hurled the crystal fruit bowl at their feet, shards exploding across the marble. "Dream on, you leeches! I'd sooner burn every dollar than give you one!"

"This is an exclusive neighborhood, not some backwater village! One word to security and you'll be spending the night in jail!"

A deep voice cut through the confrontation like a blade. "What exactly is happening here?" Nathaniel Whitmore stood in the doorway, his tailored suit slightly rumpled from rushing home. His sharp gaze took in the broken crystal, the intruders, and Evelyn's shaking form.

Evelyn's stomach dropped. Of all times for Nathaniel to come home early. Why did fate keep exposing her most humiliating moments to him?

Nathaniel stepped inside, his polished Oxfords crunching over glass shards. His frown deepened as he took in Evelyn's uncharacteristic outburst. "Someone explain. Now."