Too Meek For High Society, Too Deadly To Cross

At the bluntness of Christopher's question, a trace of surprise flickered through Natalia's eyes, only to vanish as her lips lifted into a polished smile that remained carefully distant.

"You're a little behind the times, Mr. Evans," she replied lightly. "Alexander and I finalized our divorce yesterday."

Her voice carried an easy cheer, as though she were mentioning something that had nothing to do with her at all. "At this point, I'm simply an ordinary person searching for work."

Christopher's sharp gaze rested on her face for a brief moment, its intensity cutting deep, as if it could strip away every layer and expose whatever lay beneath.

Natalia held his stare without flinching, her expression open and unguarded.

After a pause, he finally looked away, his long fingers giving a light, measured tap against the armrest of his wheelchair.

"Your credentials meet our standards. You are hired," he said calmly. "Emilio, escort Ms. Gordon to the room prepared for her."

Emilio Ward, the elderly butler, stepped forward with quiet respect. "This way, Ms. Gordon."

...

Once Natalia departed with Emilio, the door to the study opened again.

James Bradley, Christopher's friend, entered at a brisk pace, curiosity written plainly across his features. "You really intend to let her stay?"

Christopher offered no verbal reply, only a slight nod that signaled James to look deeper into Natalia.

Understanding dawned immediately. James pulled out his tablet, muttering under his breath as his fingers moved. "I glanced at her earlier, and she felt familiar. Right, I remember now. She appeared at a party once. She's the woman Alexander married three years ago."

Christopher's fingers continued their steady rhythm against the tabletop, the dull sound punctuating the silence. "That organization has been stirring again in Egonio recently," he said evenly. "Anyone drawing close to the Evans family at a time like this requires a complete background check."

James's expression hardened with understanding. "Understood."

At the same time, Natalia was escorted to a guest room located on the third floor of the main building.

The room opened into a bright, expansive space furnished with unmistakable luxury. Compared to the so-called home she had shared with Alexander, this room surpassed it by more than a few degrees.

Before leaving, the staff member accompanying her offered a few courteous reminders. "Ms. Gordon, there will be a small welcoming gathering in the back garden this evening," she said politely. "It is being held in honor of Mr. Christopher Evans' brother. If you feel inclined to step outside later, you are welcome to attend and have a look around."

Natalia gave a brief nod. Once the room fell quiet, a subtle glint of thought crossed her eyes.

A party?

With people moving freely in and out, it would be an ideal chance to observe the manor's layout and assess its security arrangements firsthand.

Decision settled, Natalia took a quick shower, slipped into an understated black dress, and made her way toward the back garden.

The moment her shoes touched the soft grass, a sharp yet unmistakably familiar female voice rang out nearby. "Natalia?"

She halted mid-step, turning toward the sound. Alexander stood there with a darkened expression, while Aimee clung to his arm, her grip possessive, her posture smug, as though she were proudly displaying something she had won.

Aimee lifted a hand to her mouth, feigning shock. "Oh my, how did you end up here? This is the Evans family estate, the most distinguished household in all of Egonio. Security here is notoriously strict. It is not a place just anyone can wander into."

Her eyes swept over Natalia with open disdain, contempt dripping from her voice. "Do not tell me you sneaked in simply because you heard Alexander would be here today."

At her words, Alexander's expression hardened further.

He fixed Natalia with a glare steeped in revulsion and ridicule. "Natalia, can you show even a shred of dignity? We finalized our divorce yesterday, and today you are already trailing after me without shame. How low do you intend to sink?"

Before the weight of his accusation could fully settle, a sharp, unmistakable slap cracked across Alexander's face.

The garden entrance plunged into complete silence.

Natalia lowered her hand slowly, her eyes cold and unyielding.

"Alexander," she said, her voice measured, every syllable pressed with deliberate calm. "Get a grip on yourself and mind your words. If you are incapable of that, I will not hesitate to make sure you never speak again."

The warning snapped the last thread of Alexander's restraint. "How dare you lay a hand on me?" he roared.

One hand flew to his face, fury blazing in his eyes as he surged forward, ready to rush at her.

Natalia did not even spare him a proper look. A faint crease formed between her brows, irritation flickering at having her path obstructed by the two of them.

Starting a public scene on her first day at Evans Manor would only invite Christopher's scrutiny.

Unwilling to let matters spiral further, she sent them one final, frost-laced glance before turning away and leaving.

"Stop right there!" Alexander shouted after her, moving to give chase.

"Mr. Douglas." A member of the Evans household staff stepped forward quietly, positioning himself in Alexander's path. His manner remained courteous, yet unmistakably detached. "Beyond this point lies Mr. Christopher Evans' private residence. Without explicit permission, no outsiders may proceed."

...

Within the study, the air hung thick with tension.

James passed a freshly printed document across the desk to Christopher.

"I have the information ready," James reported. "Everything before Natalia turned nineteen is clean and simple. She was raised in the countryside by her grandmother, performed decently in school, nothing that stands out. Three years earlier, she had complied with her grandmother's arrangements, relocated to Egonio, and entered into marriage with Alexander."

Christopher lifted the document and swept through the contents at a glance, his reading swift and precise.

The report bordered on excessive in its detail, noting even how many times Natalia had received commendations as an outstanding student in elementary school.

Rather than an investigation summary, it read like a personal profile that had been meticulously prepared ahead of time.

One line, however, caught Christopher's attention and held it. "Transferred schools in eighth grade."

His long finger rested against the word "transferred," tapping once as a thoughtful light surfaced in his eyes.

"Look into everything starting from her school transfer in eighth grade up until her return to Egonio at nineteen," he said evenly. "I want to know precisely where she was during those years."