Chapter 150

The sun had barely risen over San Francisco when Nathan Blackwood stepped out of the conference room at Blackwood Corporation.

His sharp mind, still processing the morning's discussions, suddenly snapped to a different thought. He turned to his assistant, Harrison.

"Terminate all contracts with Anson & Co. Buy them out at the lowest possible price, then make sure he leaves the city."

Harrison hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. "Sir, Anson's company collapsed overnight. They're drowning in debt and fled the country. Their assets have already been seized."

Nathan's jaw tightened, his expression turning icy.

It didn’t take him long to realize—Evelyn Sinclair had struck again.

She moves fast. The memory of her words from last night sent an uneasy ripple through him.

Suppressing the strange sensation, he merely gave a curt nod.

Meanwhile, Tristan Whitmore nearly choked on his breakfast when he heard about Anson’s downfall.

His appetite vanished instantly.

Compared to Anson, Tristan realized Evelyn had been merciful with him.

If she ever decided to settle old scores, not even Nathan could shield him.

Panic set in. He grabbed his coat and rushed straight to Sterling Corporation.

Evelyn barely spared a glance when Bennett informed her of Tristan’s arrival.

"Let him wait. Proceed with the scheduled meetings."

Bennett nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Two back-to-back meetings later, Evelyn inspected a project site and grabbed a quick lunch in the employee cafeteria.

Her schedule was relentless.

Only as evening approached did she finally exhale.

Then she remembered.

"Is he still here?"

Bennett didn’t need clarification. "Mr. Whitmore is in the guest lounge. He’s had four coffees and ordered takeout."

Evelyn smirked. "Impressive patience."

"Send him in."

Moments later, Tristan entered, clutching a bouquet of wilted flowers.

Evelyn arched a brow.

Tristan flashed his most charming smile. "Evelyn! You’re done already?"

He’d expected to wait until midnight.

Crossing her arms, she tilted her head. "Apologies for the delay, Mr. Whitmore."

Her tone held no remorse.

Tristan laughed nervously. "No, no—my time is worthless."

I’ll endure anything if it means she doesn’t destroy me next.

Evelyn sipped her coffee, the rich aroma filling the room.

Tristan nearly gagged—he’d already had enough caffeine to last a week.

Breathe through it.

Straightening, he chose his words carefully.

"After yesterday… I realized how poorly I treated you back then. As Nathan’s friend, I should’ve known better."

He exhaled. "I came to apologize properly."

Evelyn studied him, unimpressed.

"Or did Anson’s fate scare you into this?"

Damn, she sees right through me.

His smile faltered before he forced it back. "Vanessa Holloway played us all! Last night, we were drinking with Nathan, reminiscing… and we regret everything. We were blind. Can we start over?"

The once-arrogant heir now stood before her, practically groveling.

Evelyn’s lips curved.

How the mighty have fallen.