Chapter 479

Evelyn slipped into an elegant black evening gown.

The dress accentuated her regal bearing, making her appear untouchable. The designer heels were her signature style, perfectly complementing her outfit.

She exhaled slowly, replaying the earlier events in her mind.

Without hesitation, she grabbed her phone and dialed Marcus.

"Make sure Victoria Ashford shows up," she instructed.

"Understood, Miss Sinclair," Marcus replied promptly.

Evelyn took a steadying breath before stepping out of the room.

Gabrielle, Lucas's assistant, was waiting just outside.

"Mr. Sterling was concerned about you being alone tonight," Gabrielle explained. "He asked me to accompany you."

Evelyn nodded. She could use the extra help.

"Perfect. Wait here for Ms. Ashford," she said with a faint smile. "I need to speak with her privately."

Gabrielle gave a reassuring nod. "Of course, Miss Sinclair."

"It's almost time. I'll head downstairs first."

With that, Evelyn descended gracefully. She wasn't one to tolerate nonsense, and tonight would be no exception.

The theater hall was bathed in soft, dramatic lighting.

Only one seat remained in the front row—sandwiched between Nathan and Preston.

Evelyn paused mid-step.

Fantastic. Just the kind of suffocating arrangement she didn’t need.

Before she could reconsider, Preston spotted her and waved her over.

She forced a composed smile and took her seat.

Nathan didn’t glance her way. No warm greeting, no acknowledgment.

His usual gentle demeanor was absent.

Clearly, he was still upset about earlier.

Evelyn suppressed a sigh.

Preston leaned in, whispering, "Lucas has quite the fanbase. The entire audience is here for him."

Pride swelled in Evelyn's chest, though she remained modest.

"My brother is just fortunate—good looks, talent, and charm."

Preston's lips twitched before breaking into a wider grin.

Nathan, seated beside her, remained silent.

His expression only darkened further.

The first act concluded. An assistant approached with three cups of coffee.

Preston handed one to Evelyn, who passed it to Nathan.

Nathan hesitated for half a second before reaching for it.

Then—disaster.

The cup slipped before he could secure his grip.

Hot coffee splashed onto his immaculate suit.

Nathan’s jaw tightened.

His OCD wouldn’t allow him to sit through the rest of the evening like this.

As he stood, the assistant was quicker, snatching his cane.

"Apologies, Mr. Blackwood—"

Nathan shot him a sharp glare and reclaimed his cane.

Then his eyes flicked to Evelyn. "I need to change."

She nodded, watching him leave before settling back into her seat.

Something about the assistant seemed familiar.

Moments after Nathan exited, Evelyn discreetly slipped out.

Theodore had already relayed Nathan’s lounge number to him.

Nathan stepped out of the elevator and located the room.

Inside, darkness greeted him.

He flicked the lights on—and froze.

A woman’s purse and dress lay discarded on the plush sofa.

His expression turned icy.

Then, the bathroom door creaked open.

A dripping-wet Victoria Ashford emerged, wrapped in nothing but a flimsy towel.

It barely covered her.

Nathan’s face darkened dangerously.

His gaze was sharp enough to cut glass.

"Who told you to come here?" His voice was glacial.

Victoria gasped, clutching the slipping towel with reddened cheeks.

"Mr. Blackwood! Wh-what are you doing here?"

Nathan’s disdain was palpable.

"Get out—"

Before he could finish, Victoria suddenly shrieked and ducked behind him.

A swarm of reporters burst through the door, cameras flashing relentlessly.