Chapter 7

The moment Evelyn Sinclair and Isabella Montgomery stepped out of Highland Estates, Isabella had been fuming.

"That wretched old bat! If she weren't so ancient, I'd have slapped the smugness right off her face!"

Evelyn was used to her best friend's fiery temper and merely chuckled. "Let it go. She's not worth your energy. We won't be dealing with them anymore."

Their laughter filled the car as they drove back to Sterling Manor. But when they arrived, they were met with an unexpected sight—Alexander Sterling, who was rarely home due to his demanding schedule, sat on the sofa, engrossed in a financial newspaper.

His sharp features were set in that familiar, unreadable expression—cold, aristocratic, and utterly detached.

Evelyn's heart swelled. Three years apart, yet he still felt like home.

She rushed over and threw her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. "Big Brother! You're finally back! Where did you disappear to after dropping me off?"

Alexander exhaled, the ice in his demeanor thawing instantly as he indulged her. "An urgent meeting. I came straight back after." He reached for a sleek black box beside him. "For you."

It was his tradition—no matter where his business took him, he always returned with a gift. This time, it was a custom-made, limited-edition handbag, one not yet available in the country, worth a staggering eight figures.

And it was hers alone.

He had also prepared a bespoke Chanel perfume for Isabella, knowing she'd be there. Isabella accepted it with flushed cheeks, murmuring a soft, "Thank you."

But Alexander's attention never strayed from Evelyn. His gaze darkened with quiet fury—she had suffered enough. He would give her the world if he could.

Evelyn, however, caught the way Isabella's fingers lingered on the perfume bottle. A knowing smirk tugged at her lips.

"Donovan's still overseas, locked in some top-secret lab," Alexander said, folding the newspaper. "And Lucas is at the Venice Film Festival. He’ll be back in a few days." He arched a brow. "Until then, you're shadowing me at the office."

Evelyn groaned but nodded. She knew better than to argue.

Late that night.

"Holy hell!" Isabella's frantic voice crackled through the phone, jolting Evelyn awake.

Evelyn rubbed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Get online. Now. Nathan's family just dragged you through the mud!"

Evelyn's blood ran cold. She grabbed her phone and pulled up the trending hashtag: #BlackwoodExWife.

The official Blackwood Corporation account had released a statement—accusing her of stealing valuable jewelry after the divorce. They demanded its return by morning... or they'd involve the police.

Isabella was seething. "Valuable? They're making a federal case over some ten-million-dollar trinkets? As if you'd ever stoop to stealing from those snakes!"

The internet had already erupted. Comments flooded in, painting Evelyn as a gold-digging thief. Her social media was raided—every innocent post twisted into something sinister.

"Peaceful times? More like scheming times!"

"Karma’s a bitch. No wonder they kicked her out!"

"Call the cops! Thieves belong in jail!"

Evelyn recognized the jewelry in question—Nathan had kept it locked away, the safe's code a mystery she'd never cared to uncover.

A bitter laugh escaped her. "So this is how Nathan plays after a divorce? Smearing my name?" Her voice turned lethal. "He thinks I'll just take this lying down?"

She dialed Alexander. "G, Horizon Media—it's still under my name, right? Who's running it now?"

Alexander's voice was tight. "Dominic Young. I'll have him bury this."

"No." Evelyn's tone was steel. "I'll handle it myself."

By dawn, the scandal had spread like wildfire. Evelyn Sinclair was the internet's favorite villain.

At 8:00 AM sharp, she logged into her account and posted a single photo—with a statement that would change everything.

Then she stared out the window, the morning sun mocking her naivety.

"I really was blind... to ever love Nathan Blackwood."