Chapter 457

Evelyn lowered her lashes. No. I can't involve you in my mess just because I'm being selfish.

She knew perfectly well that Nathan wouldn't believe a mere photograph.

His earlier anger had been nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment.

Evelyn forced a smile and withdrew her gaze. "Goodnight, Mr. Blackwood."

"Goodnight," he replied stiffly.

She retreated to her room, the weight of unspoken words pressing against her ribs.

After a long shower, she changed into silk pajamas just as her father summoned her for a family video call.

William Sterling had business matters to discuss with her.

By the time they finished, the furrow between his brows hadn't eased.

Then Lucas popped onto the screen, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Tell me you're not actually dating Preston Sinclair!"

Evelyn groaned. Of course Lucas, the family's biggest gossip, would latch onto that rumor.

"Absolutely not," she deadpanned.

Lucas exhaled dramatically. "Thank God. Have your fun, but don't get attached. If you do, I'm staging an intervention."

William surprised her by nodding. "He's right."

It was rare for her father to agree with Lucas. Their protectiveness stemmed from the way she'd diminished herself during her marriage to Nathan. To them, no man would ever be worthy.

Donovan ended the call abruptly.

William cleared his throat. "Ignore them, sweetheart. Date whoever you want—rich, poor, I don't care."

He winked. "It's not like we can't afford heartbreak, right?"

Evelyn burst out laughing. "True, but I'd rather focus on making money. With enough cash, I can have any man I want!"

William nodded sagely. "That's my girl."

Still chuckling, she returned to bed.

The next morning, Nathan's meticulous planning became evident.

Since Preston wasn't leaving until afternoon, they had half a day to explore Venice together.

The moment Evelyn stepped into the piazza, romance clung to the air like perfume.

Time seemed suspended in the 19th century—no cars, just gondolas gliding through turquoise canals.

William and Preston wandered ahead, engrossed in conversation.

Meanwhile, Oliver Sinclair clung to Evelyn's hand like an excited puppy. This trip with his "favorite muse" was a memory he'd cherish forever.

Theodore nudged Nathan, who was grinding his teeth at the sight of Evelyn and Oliver's linked fingers.

Nathan forced a smile, though internally he ranked Oliver just as irritating as Preston.

Spotting a vendor, Theodore darted off and returned with a cloud of pink cotton candy.

He thrust it at Nathan.

"I don't eat sugar," Nathan hissed.

Theodore's smile turned pained. "It's for Ms. Sinclair, sir. Thought you might want to... you know."

Give it to her yourself hung unspoken in the air.

Nathan snatched it with a scowl.

Theodore wisely refrained from comment and called out, "Ms. Sinclair! Mr. Blackwood saw this and thought you'd like it!"

He added hastily, "He knows ladies watch their sugar intake, but he hopes you'll stay as sweet as this candy every day."

Evelyn turned, one eyebrow arched. Nathan stood frozen, cotton candy held out like a peace offering—or a surrender.