Chapter 19

"Since you're already here, why rush off? Stay and have a drink with me." The man's eyes roamed over Evelyn with predatory interest, his lips twisting into a sly smirk. His voice carried an unsettling mix of threat and persuasion.

Isabella Montgomery swayed slightly, her intoxication evident. The stranger had one hand gripping her neck, ready to drag her away at any moment.

Evelyn Sinclair met his gaze without flinching. "Release her. Now."

The man's smirk widened as he gestured toward a glass on the counter. "Come take this drink yourself, and maybe I'll consider it."

She didn't need to examine the glass to know what it contained. The warning from a bystander confirmed her suspicions. "Miss, don't go near him. That's Dominic Kingsley - he runs the underground fights in Montecito."

"A gangster?" Evelyn actually laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. She turned to the concerned stranger. "I appreciate the warning, but this won't take long."

Turning back to Kingsley, she arched one perfect eyebrow. "If I come over, you'll let her go?"

"Cross my heart." He licked his lips, already imagining his victory. Two beautiful women in one night - what luck!

Evelyn strode forward with the confidence of a panther approaching prey. When she stood mere inches from him, she repeated calmly, "I'm here. Release her."

"You're much prettier than this drunk anyway," he slurred, reaching out to touch her face.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the Velvet Lounge as a bottle connected with his skull. His scream pierced the air, cut short when Evelyn twisted his wrist backward with a sickening crack. Before he could react, her boot connected with his chest, sending him crashing to the floor.

The entire confrontation lasted less than thirty seconds. The music cut out abruptly, leaving the bar in stunned silence as the notorious gangster writhed on the ground, moaning in pain. Blood trickled from his scalp as he curled into a fetal position.

Evelyn picked up the spiked drink with elegant fingers, crouching beside her victim. Her voice remained perfectly composed. "Would you prefer to drink this yourself, or shall I help you?"

Under the pulsing neon lights, her smile took on a dangerous edge. The gangster whimpered, his bravado shattered along with the bottle against his skull. "P-please, I was just-"

"I'll take that as a request for assistance." She fisted her hand in his hair, yanking his head back. Without ceremony, she poured the entire contents of the glass down his throat.

Dusting her hands, Evelyn stood and crossed to Isabella, slinging her friend's arm over her shoulders. "Let's go. This trash ruined our evening."

The crowd parted silently as she walked out, leaving behind a scene that would become Velvet Lounge legend. No one noticed the paparazzi capturing every moment from the shadows.

One photographer dialed a familiar number with shaking hands. "Mr. Whitmore? We've got footage of Evelyn Sinclair assaulting someone at the Velvet Lounge. This could destroy her public image if we release it."

Tristan Whitmore paused mid-bite of his imported caviar, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Post it immediately."

He ended the call, chuckling to himself. "Already showing your true colors, Evelyn? After betraying Nathan and humiliating Sophia, it's time you learned some consequences."