Chapter 8

The photograph Evelyn Sinclair had posted showed Nathan Blackwood entangled with Vanessa Holloway. Their compromising position left no room for interpretation.

What was meant to be a weapon to destroy Evelyn had instead become her shield.

Her statement was crisp and devastating:

[Dear Mr. Blackwood,

I was deeply disturbed to learn of Daydream’s disappearance. Concerned for its recovery, I engaged a private investigator immediately.

The investigator traced the necklace across the Pacifica Ocean to Germany, where it was discovered in the possession of Ms. Sophia Blackwood. It appears Ms. Blackwood has developed quite the gambling habit.

I suggest you verify these findings before making further accusations.

Sincerely,

Evelyn Sinclair.]

Attached was the investigator’s detailed report—along with a damning photo of Daydream resting on a casino table beside Sophia Blackwood.

The scandal erupted like wildfire.

Evelyn, the wronged ex-wife, had not only defended herself with precision but had done so with undeniable proof. The public’s sympathy shifted instantly.

Nathan Blackwood, meanwhile, had been drinking with associates that night, oblivious to the storm brewing. By morning, Blackwood Industries’ stocks were plummeting.

His office was thick with tension.

Harrison, his assistant, stood frozen, barely daring to breathe.

"Who authorized the company account to issue that statement?" Nathan’s voice was ice.

"Madam Margaret ordered it last night," Harrison stammered. "She claimed you were informed."

Nathan swept his desk clean with a violent motion. "Since when does this company take orders from her?" His glare was lethal. "Fire the entire PR team."

Harrison swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, sir."

"Get that post removed. Now."

Harrison hesitated. "President Dominic of Horizon Media has locked the story for twenty-four hours. No one can touch it."

Horizon Media ruled the entertainment world. Defying them was impossible.

Nathan’s jaw tightened. "So Evelyn’s pulling strings now, is she?" His fingers curled into fists. "‘Dear Mr. Blackwood’—as if I orchestrated this?"

His phone buzzed. Margaret’s name flashed on the screen. He rejected the call without hesitation.

Then his father’s number appeared.

Nathan exhaled sharply before answering.

"Make Evelyn delete that post immediately!" Charles Blackwood’s voice was a controlled storm. "This humiliation ends now."

Margaret snatched the phone. "Bring that ungrateful wretch back here! She’ll pay for this!"

Nathan’s tone turned glacial. "Did she lie? Sophia stole the necklace. Why frame Evelyn?"

He despised Evelyn’s detached tone in the statement—as if their past meant nothing.

But his fury burned hotter at his mother’s shameless scapegoating.

Margaret scoffed. "How was I supposed to know Sophia took it? It was in your safe! Who else would’ve—"

"Apologize to Evelyn," Nathan cut in. "Now."

Margaret exploded. "Apologize? To that gold-digging nobody? She’s the one who should be groveling!"

Nathan’s patience snapped. "We’re divorced, Mother. This ends here."

The line went dead.

But the war had only just begun.