The hotel they’d booked sat close to the factory and turned out to be genuinely nice right up until Desmond followed them straight through the lobby doors.
Ivy had no intention of dignifying it with a reaction.
He’d always played this game in front of Nathaniel specifically, needling him for sport.
Lately, though, his attention had gotten sharper, more persistent, and she couldn’t figure out why.
She wasn’t vain enough to think this was about her.
It had only ever been about his brother.
Sure enough, the pest planted himself in front of the elevator.
“Avoiding me now?
You do realize I’m the reason you got the Barrow account back.
Not even a thank you?”
Ivy gave it to him flatly.
“Thank you.
Now get out of my way.”
Desmond’s mouth curled, and he leaned in like he meant to pull her into a hug.
“Even a cornered rabbit bites, apparently.
Honestly, you’re growing on me more than you used to.
I like this version of you.”
“Boss, I’ve got you!” Hazel planted herself in front of Ivy defensively, clearly braced for him to try something.
Having already learned her lesson about hidden cameras once, Ivy stepped back fast.
“You’re just as insufferable as ever.
If you actually want to go after Nathaniel, be a man about it, do it in the open.
Stop working around me like I’m some kind of leverage.
I mean far less to him than you seem to think.”
Desmond laughed, sharp and mocking.
“Ivy, since you’re so self-aware, and you’re already playing second to his girlfriend, why not just get the divorce over with?
Or is he just that good in bed, and you can’t bring yourself to walk away?”
“Excuse me?” Even Hazel bristled at that, genuinely offended on Ivy’s behalf.
“Hazel, if a dog bites you, you don’t bite back.
People have shame.
Whatever this is doesn’t.” Ivy suddenly raised her voice, looking past Desmond’s shoulder.
“Nathaniel?
What are you doing here?”
Right on cue, Desmond spun around to look and Ivy shoved him hard from behind, straight out of the elevator.
He stumbled, barely catching himself before hitting the floor.
“Ivy, you”
“Finally, some clean air.” Ivy hit the button, smiled, and gave him a little wave as the doors closed.
Hazel lit up, thrilled, telling her that was the single best move she’d pulled all week.
Ivy’s smile faded fast.
“Stay sharp.
Desmond showing up in Ironbridge right now doesn’t feel like a coincidence.”
Outside, Desmond’s assistant rushed to help him up, wincing.
“Sir, she moved too fast and read the situation too well, we couldn’t get anything usable.”
“Useless.” Desmond stared coldly at the rising floor numbers on the elevator display, then let out a slow, unpleasant smile.
“Doesn’t need to be intimate.
A fake will do just fine.”
“We’re both men here.
Even with a new girlfriend, even having tossed Ivy aside, Nathaniel’s not going to stop feeling possessive over something he considers his.
Get more shots of the two of us together, coming and going.
That alone will be enough to unravel him and that old woman with him.”
That old woman tore my family apart once.
She can watch her son fall apart in return.
The next morning, while getting a facial treatment at the family estate, Margaret Wolfe opened an anonymous email on her phone.
Inside photo after photo of her daughter-in-law and Desmond together, hotel backdrop, every image angled to suggest exactly the wrong thing.
Margaret had never trusted Desmond; his whole presence unsettled her.
She’d been genuinely fond of Wren, once, though three childless years into the marriage, paired with the Sinclairs’ steady stream of requests for money, had slowly worn that fondness down to something closer to resentment.
Looking at these photos now, that resentment hardened into certainty.
She’s disrespecting this family.
She called Nathaniel immediately.
“Nathaniel, where are you right now?”
“Abroad.
Business trip.” It was the middle of the night for him he’d just wrapped up hosting overseas clients and was running on fumes.
Something in his mother’s tone told him a headache was already on the way.
“Mom, nothing’s wrong.
I just need to sleep”
“Sleep?
You just got back from a trip days ago and you’re already gone again.
Meanwhile your wife’s making a fool of you and you don’t seem to care.” Margaret forwarded the email, clearly furious.
“Wren’s tangled up with that awful brother of yours.
I’ve noticed the two of them lingering at the edges of family gatherings for a while now this has probably been going on longer than either of you realizes.
I brought this up before, and you always took her side.”
“Mom.” Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, irritation flickering through his exhaustion.
“She’s not like that.”
Desmond had spent years harassing Ivy, testing her, never once confronting her directly and now, apparently, he’d escalated to targeting the woman Nathaniel supposedly cared about.
Nathaniel knew Ivy had absorbed more unfair treatment than she’d ever let show, and he’d genuinely wondered, more than once, when she’d finally break down and complain about it.
She never had.
Every time, she’d handled it herself, quietly, without a word to him.
Maybe she was never the soft, dutiful wife everyone assumed.
Maybe I just kept projecting Wren onto her, and it made it easy to miss the steel underneath.
“Do you really trust her that much?
Did she even tell you she was meeting up with Desmond?
Same hotel, spotted together constantly did she explain any of that to her own husband?
Something’s going on with those two, and it’s only a matter of time before it blows up”
The longer Margaret talked, the angrier she got, until a soft female voice cut through on Nathaniel’s end.
“Nathaniel, I warmed up some milk for you.
It’ll help you sleep.
Drink it and rest, you look exhausted today.”
Nathaniel turned to find Chloe standing in his doorway, wrapped in a robe that left very little to the imagination, and his irritation deepened.
“How did you get in here?”
Chloe offered a soft smile, something in it deliberately echoing the version of Wren everyone remembered from years ago.
“Marcus was just leaving after dropping off some documents.
I…
I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?”
Watching her hover there nervously, cradling the mug, Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Just set it down.
You don’t need to handle things like this going forward.”
Something in Chloe warmed at that anyway.
“I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Nathaniel, it’s the middle of the night, who is that with you?” Margaret’s instincts were sharp as ever.
“I heard there’s a new secretary named Chloe, someone you handpicked yourself.
Is that her?”
Nathaniel felt the headache fully arrive.
“Mom, if you’re fine, I need to rest.”
“Fine, fine.
This Chloe must be gorgeous and sharp, or she wouldn’t have caught your attention at all.
You should have seen through Wren ages ago and found someone obedient.
Someone who can actually give you children.” Margaret’s standards shifted entirely depending on who she was discussing.
“Since you’re already abroad together, enjoy yourselves.
The two of you should think about starting a family soon.”
Chloe, overhearing every word in the quiet room, pressed a hand instinctively to her stomach, glancing at Nathaniel with something caught between nerves and anticipation.
She tugged the collar of her robe down slightly, just enough.
“Mom.” Nathaniel’s voice came out sharp, completely oblivious to the gesture beside him.
Margaret scoffed.
“Don’t defend that barren girl to me.
Three years married into this family and not a single sign of a pregnancy.
Every excuse in the book to avoid seeing a doctor about it.”
His mother’s contempt for Ivy had always grated on him, even when he’d never bothered correcting it she was only ever a stand-in, after all, not worth the argument.
Today, for reasons he didn’t examine too closely, it landed harder than usual.
“Not having children was my decision.
It has nothing to do with her.”