Chapter 221

Sophia Blackwood froze in terror, her head bobbing in frantic agreement. "Y-yes, Evelyn! I'm sorry! I know it was wrong—"

Evelyn Sinclair's grip tightened.

The sickening tear of fabric split the air. For one heart-stopping second, Evelyn released her hold. Sophia shrieked as her body lurched downward—only to jerk to a stop when Evelyn's fingers clamped around her wrist again.

A cruel smile played on Evelyn's lips as she drank in Sophia's petrified expression. "Since you confessed so willingly... this is what you deserve."

Sophia's composure shattered. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!"

Evelyn didn't silence her. Within moments, a crowd swarmed the balcony. Tristan Whitmore took one look and sprinted to find Nathan Blackwood.

"God, look at her dress!" Evelyn taunted, nodding at the shredded fabric barely clinging to Sophia's frame. "One good tug and everyone gets a free show. Shall we test that theory?"

Sophia's fingers scrabbled uselessly against the railing. The realization hit her—this flimsy material wouldn't survive her weight. Her screams died instantly, replaced by ragged breathing.

"You—!" Sophia's voice shook with fury. "You promised not to let go if I admitted it!"

The world tilted. How had the predator become the prey?

Evelyn's smile turned glacial. "Why would I save someone who just confessed to attempted murder? Tell me, Sophia—do you leave your brain at home when you scheme?"

Sophia trembled violently, her nails digging into Evelyn's arm. "Nathan will—"

"Brother! SHE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!" Sophia wailed as Nathan arrived.

Every witness turned expectantly toward the billionaire. Nathan's stormy gaze flicked between the two women—until Evelyn held up her phone with a smirk.

"Before we continue... let's settle this little misunderstanding." She tapped the screen.

Evelyn's recorded voice rang out: "Did you just try to push me, Ms. Blackwood?"

Sophia's panicked reply followed: "YES! I'm sorry, Evelyn! I know it's wrong—"

The crowd erupted.

"Jesus Christ, that's premeditated!"

"Who tries to murder someone at a party?!"

"Thank God Ms. Sinclair recorded it!"

"I'd have let her drop after that confession..."

Nathan's expression darkened to something lethal. He wrenched Sophia onto the balcony—only to backhand her across the face with enough force to snap her head sideways.