Chapter 835

The car was covered in dents, its windshield shattered into a spiderweb pattern. All four tires had been slashed. It was completely totaled—not even worth towing to a repair shop.

Alexander Hamilton tightened his grip on Evelyn Carter's hand, cold sweat trickling down his back. It had been too long since he'd faced such brazen provocation, and he'd foolishly overlooked the threat in Vincent Croix's words.

That so-called "consideration" was nothing but an ultimatum.

His face darkened like storm clouds, but his grip remained carefully controlled. Evelyn felt the warmth of his palm and gently squeezed back, her fingertips brushing soothingly over his knuckles.

"The hospital has comprehensive surveillance. If we can gather evidence..."

Her voice trailed off. Both knew it was wishful thinking to believe a minor case like this could bring Vincent down. If he could hire assassins and pin the blame on others, vandalizing a car was child's play.

The security footage arrived quickly. A group of teenagers with rainbow-dyed hair were seen kicking and smashing the car with arrogant glee. The officers at the precinct groaned at the sight of them. "You again? Your rap sheets are thicker than dictionaries!"

Alexander stood outside the mediation room with a cold smirk. These delinquents were clearly professional scapegoats, exploiting juvenile protection laws without fear. Even knowing Vincent was behind this, there was no way to touch him.

"I was too naive," Evelyn massaged her temples. "If Vincent dared do this, he must've already arranged an escape route."

The officer rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Well... since they're minors, the most we can do is issue warnings. As for compensation, we’ll need to contact their guardians first—"

"Don't bother," Alexander cut him off. "I just want to know why they targeted my car."

The officer looked even more uncomfortable. "They said... they were jealous because your car was too nice."

Fourteen years old—just under the age of criminal responsibility. Vincent's petty tactic was like gum stuck to a shoe, impossible to scrape off.

Evelyn exhaled heavily. The satisfaction of successfully performing a cesarean on a heart failure patient earlier that day evaporated completely.

Alexander appeared calm on the surface—until three days later.

"Shocking! Finance Tycoon Assaulted at Night, Allegedly Drowning Sorrows Over Failed Romance!" Evelyn stifled a laugh as she slid her phone toward Alexander. "This reporter's headline makes it sound like Vincent was heartbroken."

Alexander was picking green peppers out of her dish when his chopsticks paused mid-air. "This has nothing to do with—"

He caught himself too late.

Evelyn's eyes curved into crescents. "So it really was you?"

Clearing his throat, he transferred the asparagus he'd picked onto her plate. "I don’t like these. Don’t waste them." Rushing from a client meeting, they'd had to settle for a random restaurant near the hospital. Though it couldn’t compare to his usual carefully prepared meals, it was better than letting her go hungry.

"Not denying means admitting," she teased, poking at her rice with a deepening smile.

"It was me." Alexander set down his chopsticks. "With someone like Vincent, the only response is tit for tat. Otherwise, next time he’ll come straight for you." He paused. "Same group of delinquents. I paid them double."

Turns out, after leaving the precinct that day, he'd had his bodyguards track down those minors. Lured by the higher payout, they’d promptly ambushed Vincent in an alley. Despite his bodyguards, Vincent took the beating squarely.

He waited for Evelyn's reprimand. She’d always disapproved of such methods.

Instead, she sipped her red date tea leisurely and only said, "Be careful. Miss Langley warned us Vincent’s inferiority complex drives his madness." When she looked up, the worry in her eyes was unmistakable.

Alexander’s chest warmed. Just as he was about to speak, a shadow fell over their table.

Vincent stood beside their booth, a bandage on his brow and bruises still dark around his eye, radiating hostility.

Alexander glanced up indifferently. "You look unwell, Mr. Croix. Care to join us?"