Chapter 303

Evelyn Sinclair met Adrian Blackwood's gaze with cool indifference. She had no use for his affections or his empty promises.

His so-called "deep love" was nothing more than greed wrapped in pretty words. The thought lifted any guilt from her shoulders.

Without ceremony, Adrian took the money that would save his failing expedition dreams. From inside the private booth, Natalie Beaumont and Isabella Montgomery burst into laughter.

Isabella playfully nudged Evelyn's shoulder. "Damn, girl! That's how a Sterling heiress handles business!"

Evelyn tossed her golden hair. "Damn right I am!" The bass-heavy music pulsed through the Velvet Lounge.

The exclusive club buzzed with energy, each patron lost in their own world of champagne and secrets.

Evelyn's head spun slightly from one too many martinis. She pushed through the velvet curtains toward the restroom.

As she turned the corner, she collided with a woman whose shriek could shatter crystal.

"Watch where you're going, you drunken fool!" The woman brushed imaginary dirt from her designer dress. "This is a Valentino! Could you even afford the dry cleaning?"

The voice cut through Evelyn's haze like ice water. She looked up to see Margaret Blackwood - Nathan's mother - glaring down her nose.

"What an unexpected pleasure, Mrs. Blackwood." Evelyn's lips curled into a dangerous smile.

Margaret froze mid-tirade. She'd come to question staff about Sophia's disappearance, not face the woman who haunted her family.

In the past, Margaret could reduce Evelyn to tears with a glance. But now? Now Evelyn Sinclair commanded respect even Old Man Blackwood couldn't ignore.

Margaret's expression cycled through shock, rage, and forced politeness. Evelyn found the display utterly delicious.

"Oh. It's you." Margaret's voice lost its venom. She remembered Nathan's decree after Evelyn's miraculous return: "Evelyn is the only woman I'll ever marry. Cross her, and you answer to me."

Evelyn's gaze dropped to the pristine dress. "Name your price. I'll have my assistant write you a check."

"That won't be necessary." Margaret straightened her spine. She wouldn't grovel, but she wouldn't provoke either.

Behind Evelyn, Isabella's voice carried through the open door. "Hurry back, Evie! Your harem's getting restless!"

Margaret's nostrils flared. "Wait."

Evelyn paused. "Yes?"

"We need to talk." Margaret's tone brooked no argument.

"About?"

"Come." Margaret swept into an adjacent lounge like a queen holding court.

Evelyn almost laughed at the audacity. Yet curiosity won out. What could the Blackwood matriarch possibly want?

The private room reeked of Margaret's superiority complex. She perched on the leather sofa like it might contaminate her.

"Make it quick, Mrs. Blackwood." Evelyn checked her diamond-encrusted watch. "I have thirteen heartbroken men waiting."

Margaret's jaw tightened. "Since my son is foolish enough to want you back, you'd do well to clean up your scandalous behavior."