Chapter 30

Dawn broke with golden fingers stretching across the sky.

Evelyn Sinclair stirred beneath silk sheets, blinking awake in the sun-drenched bedroom of Sterling Manor. The warmth enveloped her like a cashmere embrace, coaxing a contented smile to her lips.

Precisely at seven, three gentle raps sounded at her door.

"Miss Sinclair?" A maid's voice floated through the wood. "Are you awake?"

Evelyn stretched luxuriously. "Come in."

The previous night, Alexander's chauffeur had whisked her back to the family estate after the Velvet Lounge incident.

Two uniformed maids entered pushing a gleaming chrome rack laden with garments. "Your father and eldest brother await you in the breakfast room, Miss. These were specially curated for you."

Evelyn's breath caught. William Sterling had clearly gone overboard - again. "He didn't buy out entire design houses, did he?"

Rows of identical silhouettes in varying hues hung before her. Though devoid of labels, Evelyn recognized the exquisite stitching and Italian fabrics of Prada's haute couture collection. Several pieces weren't even available in boutiques yet.

She exhaled sharply. Time to readjust to this gilded existence. "You may go."

After her morning routine, Evelyn selected a tailored navy shift dress and paired it with pearl earrings before heading downstairs.

In the sunlit breakfast room, William and Alexander Sterling sat conversing over steaming coffee. Her father's face lit up. "There's my sleeping beauty!"

Alexander's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Heard Tristan Whitmore made quite the spectacle fleeing Velvet Lounge last night. Even with his face covered, everyone recognized him."

William snorted. "Old Man Whitmore dragged him home at dawn. Their PR team's working overtime after the stock plummeted." He beamed at Evelyn. "That's my girl."

Evelyn took her seat with an elegant shrug. "He started it." She accepted a bowl of berries from a server. "Though I might've finished it."

"Whatever my princess wants," William chuckled, pushing a fresh croissant toward her.

After breakfast, Alexander dropped Evelyn at Sterling Corp headquarters. Her assistant Bennett stood waiting outside her office door.

"Ms. Sinclair, Olivia Kensington arrived early. She's inside." He lowered his voice. "Any word from Kingsley Tech?"

"I've spoken with Dominic Kingsley personally. He suggested dinner negotiations."

"Shall I arrange it?"

Evelyn nodded before pushing open her office door - and froze.

Olivia Kensington lounged in Evelyn's ergonomic chair, spinning lazily while examining her manicure. The atmosphere turned glacial the moment their eyes met.

Olivia sprang up, shooting Bennett a venomous look. "You didn't announce her!"

Evelyn glided forward, lips curved in a dangerous smile. "Since you're so fond of that chair, Ms. Kensington, it's yours. Bennett, have it delivered to her office."

Olivia's cheeks flushed crimson. "That's not necessary-"

"I insist." Evelyn settled on the sofa, crossing her legs. "I have... particular tastes regarding personal space."

The unspoken insult hung between them. Olivia's eyes flashed with barely contained rage before she forced a smile. That gold-digging bitch thinks she's so superior just because she slept her way to the top.

Evelyn arched a brow. "To what do I owe this... unexpected visit?"

Olivia slapped a folder onto the coffee table. "Consider this a professional courtesy. Kensington Group's chairman wants to discuss the Pacific Heights project over dinner tonight." Her smile turned saccharine. "Don't say I never share."

Evelyn skimmed the proposal before snapping it shut. Olivia's sudden generosity reeked of deception - but playing along might prove entertaining.

"Will you be joining us?"

"Of course. I'll make introductions."

"How... thoughtful." Evelyn handed the documents to Bennett. "Increase our bid by thirty percent."

Without hesitation, Bennett nodded. "Immediately, ma'am."

The door burst open as Isabella Montgomery staggered in, arms overflowing with blood-red roses. "Evelyn! Rescue me!"

Evelyn blinked at the floral avalanche. "What on earth-"

"Someone's clearly smitten," Isabella sing-songed, peering over the blossoms with a mischievous grin. "And I do mean smitten."