Chapter 68

Evelyn's gaze wavered when she locked eyes with Nathaniel.

"It's true. If you don't believe me, ask Abigail. She was there the whole time."

Nathaniel turned to Abigail, who caught the warning in Evelyn's stare.

She ducked her head, stammering, "Mr. Whitmore, I—I was in the kitchen. I didn't actually see what happened."

Evelyn's expression darkened. She hadn’t expected Abigail to defy her.

She quickly explained, "Nathaniel, I didn’t know Ms. Carter was the new designer. You’ve rejected every designer I’ve brought before. Since she handled our home renovation last time, I assumed you’d approve. That’s why I didn’t consult you."

Nathaniel’s face remained unreadable as he strode to the couch and picked up the design portfolio. Flipping through it, the sketches suddenly seemed far more impressive.

When he reached the first page—a concept for a photo wall—his brows furrowed.

"What’s this?"

"Nathaniel, I thought it would be lovely to have a memory wall here. Don’t you think?"

"I think a funeral portrait would fit better," Nathaniel snapped.

Evelyn flinched at his words.

She forced a tight smile. "T-Then never mind."

Nathaniel set the portfolio down and leveled her with a cold stare. "Why are you here?"

Her smile strained, she answered, "I bought fresh seafood and wanted to cook for you. I brought some for Mrs. Whitmore too."

"Don’t bother. And don’t do this again."

Defiance flickered in Evelyn’s eyes as she watched him ascend the stairs.

She whirled on Abigail, dragging her into the kitchen.

A sharp slap cracked across Abigail’s face. "What was that earlier? Did you forget who you answer to? Cross me again, and you’ll regret it."

She seethed, taking her frustration out on the maid. But Evelyn wasn’t done—she wouldn’t let that little upstart, Victoria, get away with humiliating her.

When Victoria returned home, she noticed the cut on her lip.

Margaret fretted over her. "What happened? Were you hurt?"

"Just an accident. It’s nothing."

After disinfecting the wound, Victoria turned to Margaret. "Aunt Margaret, I’ve shortlisted a few houses. Which one do you like?"

"Victoria, isn’t Alexander in real estate? Why not ask him?"

"But he’s in Nord City. We’re in Bern City."

After a moment’s thought, Victoria decided consulting Alexander was still the safest option—he’d know how to avoid pitfalls in the buying process.

She wanted a pre-owned home near the hospital for Margaret’s convenience, rather than a distant new development.

After dinner, she called Alexander. "I’m thinking of using my prize money to buy a house."

Alexander brightened instantly. "Leave it to me! I’ll find you something perfect at a steal."

As soon as they hung up, he texted the family group chat:

"Victoria’s house-hunting. Detached villa or townhouse?"

Sebastian replied, "A villa’s too much. What about a loft?"

The chat exploded with suggestions until Olivia shut it down.

She shot Alexander a look. "None of these will work."

"Why not? I’ll just tell her we got a discount. She’ll buy it."

"Do you think Victoria’s stupid? She only has a million dollars and plans to take a mortgage. There’s no way she can afford a villa or loft near Central Hospital."

Alexander slumped, defeated.

Olivia sighed. "My assistant filtered listings with elevators in safe neighborhoods. Let’s start there."

He stared longingly at the villa listing—just a mile from the hospital.

"Fine. But I’m buying this for her future."

"Just make sure she never finds out."

When Victoria answered Alexander’s video call, his face darkened instantly.

"Victoria, what happened to your face?"