Chapter 32

Both Victor Kensington and Olivia Kensington visibly stiffened when Evelyn Sinclair spoke.

Victor's lips curled into a predatory grin as he reached for the bottle of Merlot beside him, pouring a generous glass for Evelyn.

"Ms. Sinclair," he purred, sliding a folder across the table. "Since we're negotiating, I've come prepared with an offer. Take a look."

His contract mirrored the one in Evelyn's hands—except the numbers were slashed by another ten percent.

Olivia's eyes gleamed with calculation as she leaned in. "Evelyn, what's the point of clinging to Alexander Sterling? He's clearly setting you up for failure."

Her painted lips twisted into a smirk. "Look at you—no designer labels, no car. Do you even own anything that isn't from a thrift store?"

She flicked the hem of her Chanel blazer, satisfaction oozing from every pore. "Trust me, I've been where you are. Victor treats his allies well. That Audi outside? Consider it yours."

When Evelyn remained silent, Olivia mistook it for hesitation. With a triumphant glance at Victor, she wobbled to her feet. "I'll give you two some privacy."

The moment the door clicked shut, Olivia's demeanor shifted. Her eyes turned razor-sharp as she cornered a trembling waiter near the restrooms.

"Is it done?"

The server swallowed hard. "Y-yes, Ms. Kensington. The drug's in the wine."

A cruel smile twisted Olivia's lips.

The waiter hesitated. "That woman... she's Nathan Blackwood's ex-wife. Isn't this dangerous?"

Olivia scoffed. "Please. She's just another gold-digger trading beds for promotions. Why should Nathan care?"

She strutted away without noticing the towering figure frozen in the shadows.

Nathan's knuckles whitened around his phone. He grabbed a passing server by the collar.

"Where. Is. She?"

The man paled. "R-room 3888, Mr. Blackwood!"

Inside the private suite, Victor's sausage-like fingers inched toward Evelyn's wrist.

She swirled her wineglass with deliberate slowness, watching the ruby liquid catch the light.

Victor tossed a tarnished key onto the table. "For you, darling."

Evelyn's laugh was ice. "Olivia got a newer model, didn't she?"

"Ah, but you're far more... valuable." His gaze crawled over her like a physical touch. "Sign my contract, and I'll upgrade you to this year's model."

Evelyn's phone "accidentally" clattered to the floor.

As Victor bent to retrieve it, she switched their glasses.

"To new partnerships," he toasted, gulping the drugged wine.

Evelyn merely wet her lips, the dark vintage staining them like blood.

Victor's pupils dilated as the drug took effect. He fumbled for her hand—

A bone-crunching kick sent him sprawling.

Nathan's grip on Evelyn's wrist was vise-like. His voice dropped to a lethal whisper:

"Tell me you didn't drink that."