Chapter 403: Did They Anger The Universe?

December 30th

Two weeks had passed since Samuel Walters’ funeral, and on the surface, very little had changed in Evelyn’s life.

Her days had settled into a quiet rhythm.

Mornings were spent with Oliver, who insisted on supervising her breakfast choices like a tiny nutritionist with questionable credentials.

Afternoons were reserved for studying the Walters Group documents stacked neatly on her desk—financial reports, long-term strategies, and board meeting summaries she would officially inherit next year.

It was overwhelming, but also grounding. This was her responsibility now, and she was determined not to fail it.

In between, Evelyn worked discreetly with Oscar again. Only minor jobs. Background checks, data verification, harmless digging. Nothing involving influential figures or dangerous waters. After everything that had happened, she had learned the value of caution, something Oscar teased her endlessly about.

Despite her relatively calm life, the world outside was anything but quiet.

The Martinez Group dominated headlines almost daily.

Evelyn stared at her laptop screen, eyes scanning yet another breaking news article, her lips twitching in disbelief.

[BREAKING NEWS: Martinez Group Subsidiary Under Investigation for Large-Scale Tax Evasion]

She scrolled.

[MARTINEZ GROUP EXECUTIVE ARRESTED IN CONNECTION WITH OFFSHORE MONEY LAUNDERING SCHEME]

Scroll again.

[EXCLUSIVE: Former Employees Expose Illegal Accounting Practices Within Martinez Group]

Evelyn leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms slowly.

“Wow,” she muttered. “Did they anger the universe? Or is karma finally done warming up?”

The news wasn’t just bad, it was catastrophic.

One company after another under the Martinez umbrella collapsed like dominoes.

Directors resigned overnight.

Executives vanished.

Stock prices plummeted so fast that financial analysts on television looked personally offended by the numbers.

Then came the report from two days ago.

Evelyn’s expression darkened as the memory resurfaced.

[SHOCKING REVELATION: Martinez Group LINKED TO HUMAN TRAFFICKING RING INVOLVING WOMEN AND MINORS]

She had read the article three times, hoping she misunderstood it.

She hadn’t.

The report detailed illegal transportation routes, forged documents, shell charities, and horrifying testimonies from victims. It made her stomach churn.

Evelyn closed her laptop with more force than necessary.

“Martinez Group,” she murmured coldly, staring out the window, “who exactly did you offend this time? Even God can’t help you now!”

The reflection on the glass showed her own troubled expression. She tried to redirect her thoughts, but her mind betrayed her.

The car accident. The screech of tires. The impact. The darkness. The explosions.

Her fingers curled unconsciously at her side.

And then Natalie Martinez’s face surfaced in her mind—smiling, calculating, poisonous.

Evelyn’s jaw tightened.

“So this is what it feels like,” she whispered, anger simmering beneath her calm exterior. “Justice… served cold.”

She stood up abruptly, needing air, space, anything to shake off the heaviness pressing against her chest.

Just then, a knock sounded on her office door.

“Ma’am,” Jimmy’s voice followed politely. “May I come in?”

“Yes,” Evelyn replied, turning toward the door.

Jimmy stepped inside, his posture respectful, but his expression hinting at excitement.

“Ma’am, I just received a call. Lisa and the guests have already passed the main gate.”

For a split second, Evelyn froze. Then her face lit up as a spring-like smile bloomed from her lips.

“They’re here?” she asked, already moving.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Jimmy,” she said warmly, already halfway out the door.

She hurried through the hallway, her steps light despite the emotions swirling inside her chest.

Her heart pounded not with fear but with anticipation.

She had been waiting for this day.

The day Aunty Martha finally came to visit them. And the day she would tell her the truth.

Evelyn slowed her steps as she reached the main entrance, inhaling deeply to steady herself.

’Calm down, Eve,’ she told herself. ’You’ve handled board meetings and crisis negotiations. You can handle one emotional revelation.’

Still, her hands trembled slightly.

She pictured Aunty Martha’s gentle smile. The way the woman always spoke about her son, Noah… her voice filled with longing, hope, and unwavering belief that he was still alive somewhere.

Every visit ended the same way.

“He’ll come home one day,” Aunty Martha would say softly. “I know it.”

Evelyn swallowed.

’You were right,’ she thought. ’You never stopped believing. And today… You won’t have to.’

From outside, voices drifted closer, accompanied by the crunch of gravel beneath tires.

After tightening her long coat, Evelyn opened the door and finally saw the car parked not far from the entrance.

The cold air rushed in, but she barely felt it.

Her eyes were fixed on the scene before her.

Lisa stepped out first, then carefully helped Aunty Martha down from the car. The older woman clutched her coat tightly, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Tears blurred Evelyn’s vision, sliding down her weathered cheeks. Not from sorrow, but from overwhelming happiness. It had been far too long since they last saw each other.

Evelyn didn’t hesitate. She walked toward her, her heart full.

“Aunty Martha…” she called softly.

The woman looked up, and the moment their eyes met, all restraint vanished.

Aunty Martha had aged since Evelyn last saw her. Her once-dark hair was now streaked with gray, pulled neatly into a low bun. Fine lines traced the corners of her eyes and lips, signs of years spent worrying, waiting, and loving deeply.

Yet her back was still straight, her gaze sharp, and there was a quiet strength in her presence. Even nearing seventy, her beauty had not faded; it had simply transformed into something more profound, steadier.

“My dear girl…” Aunty Martha whispered.

They embraced tightly, as if afraid letting go would make the moment disappear. Evelyn could feel the warmth of her body, the familiar scent of lavender, and the tremble of emotions neither of them tried to hide.

“It’s cold,” Evelyn said gently, wiping away her own tears. “Let’s go inside, Aunty.”

“Yes, yes,” Aunty Martha agreed with a small laugh, patting Evelyn’s arm. “My old bones aren’t as brave and agile as they used to be.”

They hurried into the house together, Lisa closing the door behind them.

No sooner had Aunty Martha stepped inside than she paused, looking around the living room with sharp eyes.

“Eve,” she asked suspiciously, “where’s my little Oliver? Why don’t I see your cute little boy yet?”

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