Chapter 211

Bennett held open the office door as Evelyn Sinclair strode in with effortless grace. Every movement carried an air of unshakable confidence that made lesser men shrink in comparison. The way her stiletto heels clicked against the marble floor sounded like a countdown to someone's demise.

Nathan Blackwood's breath hitched as the memory surfaced unbidden—that mysterious woman in crimson at the Monaco gala years ago, her face obscured by shadows yet radiating undeniable power. The way light had spilled from the doorway behind her like liquid gold...

"Mr. Blackwood?" Bennett's polite prompt snapped him back to the present. The assistant's outstretched arm directed him into an office that smelled faintly of peonies and expensive stationery.

Evelyn's workspace was a study in contrasts—sleek modern furniture softened by whimsical touches. A marble sculpture of a panther wore a crown of fresh pink peonies today, their petals brushing against quarterly reports. Nathan's lips twitched. So this was how the Ice Queen of Sterling Corp ruled her empire.

Sinking into the plush sofa, Evelyn crossed her legs with the precision of a guillotine blade falling. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Her tone could freeze champagne.

Nathan's gaze darkened like storm clouds over the Pacific. "The Pacific Heights project. Have you reconsidered our partnership?"

Evelyn's manicured finger tapped the sofa armrest once. Twice. The rhythm of a chess player contemplating her next move. "You flew from New York to San Francisco for that?" Her laugh was sharper than the diamonds at her ears. "How... quaint."

The air between them crackled with unsaid words. Nathan remained statue-still, his custom Tom Ford suit failing to conceal the coiled tension in his frame. "Time is money, Evelyn. We shouldn't delay this decision."

A shadow crossed Evelyn's face as she remembered yesterday's disastrous lunch with the Harts. That simpering Victoria Ashford had been there, dripping honeyed words into Sebastian's ear while shooting Evelyn venomous glances. Coincidence? Hardly.

"Here's my offer," Evelyn said suddenly, leaning forward like a panther scenting blood. "I'll join your little project—on one condition."

Nathan's eyebrow arched a fraction. In the world of high-stakes deals, he was accustomed to dictating terms, not receiving them. Yet something about Evelyn's glacial composure made him hold his tongue.

"Victoria Ashford gets removed from the equation." Evelyn's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "Permanently."

The silence that followed could have been measured on the Richter scale. Nathan's expression remained impassive, but his knuckles whitened around his coffee cup. "Explain."

Evelyn swirled her espresso, watching the dark liquid cling to the porcelain. "Don't play dumb, Nathan. You only approached Sterling Corp because of our... history." She met his gaze head-on. "Consider this your one chance at redemption."

A muscle jumped in Nathan's jaw. In any other boardroom, such audacity would have gotten the speaker blacklisted from every Fortune 500 company. Yet Evelyn sat there, utterly unfazed, her Valentino-clad legs crossed as if discussing the weather.

"Why her?" Nathan finally ground out.

Evelyn's smile could have frosted the windows. "Let's just say Miss Ashford and I have different definitions of fair play." She set down her cup with deliberate precision. "So? Is your precious project worth sacrificing your golden girl for?"

The antique clock on the wall ticked like a time bomb. Outside, the San Francisco skyline glittered indifferently. Two of the most powerful CEOs in the country sat three feet apart, the fate of a billion-dollar deal hanging between them.

Finally, Nathan leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that raised goosebumps along Evelyn's arms. "Tell me, Evelyn—since when do you believe in playing fair?"

Her laughter was colder than the fog rolling in from the bay. "Oh Nathan, darling. Whoever said anything about playing?"