Chapter 381

Back at Sterling Manor, Evelyn Sinclair felt utterly drained. Securing the massive deal with Preston Sinclair should have brought elation, yet her heart remained heavy.

The weight of that old photograph haunted her. Those buried memories now resurfaced with startling clarity.

Midnight found her staring at the ceiling, replaying the image behind closed eyelids. The sudden buzz of her phone shattered the silence.

She grabbed it irritably. The screen illuminated Nathan Blackwood's name.

[Evelyn, I'm relieved it was you I saved that day.]

[No one else. Just you. Thank heavens you're safe.]

Evelyn exhaled sharply. Moonlight streamed through the windows as she padded downstairs for warm milk. The creamy liquid soothed her throat but not her thoughts.

What's done is done, she reminded herself. Dwelling on ancient history served no purpose.

Morning brought a media frenzy. News of the Sinclair-Sterling collaboration spread like wildfire through Wall Street circles. Her phone overflowed with notifications from eager investors and corporate partners.

"Mommy!" Leo bounded into her room, tail swishing. "The whole world's waiting for you!"

After responding to Isabella Montgomery's message, Evelyn dressed with deliberate calm. The scent of freshly brewed coffee guided her downstairs.

Alexander Sterling stood rigid in the foyer, phone pressed to his ear. His expression darkened further when he spotted her.

"Sleeping through an earthquake, were we?" he snapped, ending the call abruptly.

William Sterling chuckled behind his newspaper. "How did you manage to charm Preston Sinclair? His team contacted us at dawn. Quite the turnaround."

Evelyn recounted yesterday's events between sips of orange juice. Understanding dawned across their faces.

Only Lucas Sterling shook his head mournfully. "Preston's son is practically grown. Another eligible bachelor slips through your fingers."

William's newspaper swatted at him. "Out!"

"Seconded," Alexander growled.

The office hummed with tension when Evelyn and Alexander entered the boardroom. Conversations died mid-sentence.

All eyes tracked her stilettoed stride to the head table. She settled into her chair with practiced ease, radiating quiet authority.

Lawrence Whitmore sat stiffly, fingers drumming the mahogany surface. His frantic calls to William Sterling had gone unanswered all morning.

Would they truly force him out? The thought turned his coffee bitter.

Alexander opened proceedings with crisp efficiency. Department heads delivered succinct reports before discussion turned to the Sinclair venture.

"Our R&D team must synchronize perfectly with Sinclair's engineers," Alexander stated. "Every phase requires meticulous attention, though final adjustments await contract signing. Questions?"

Heads shook in unison. Just as attendees gathered their papers, Alexander turned.

"Evelyn? Your thoughts?"

She met his gaze, then let it slide meaningfully toward Lawrence. The unspoken message was clear: this was her moment.

"Oh, I believe Mr. Whitmore owes us something," she purred. "That little wager about leaving Sterling Corporation? Let's settle that now."

Her smile held all the warmth of a stiletto between ribs.