Chapter 995

Simon Evans adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze lingering on Alexander Hamilton's sharp profile. He considered asking for help but immediately sensed the icy aura around the CEO in Evelyn Carter's absence.

Victor Laurent, however, yelled like a drowning man clutching at straws, "Mr. Hamilton, save me! Vivian Dempsey's going to beat me up at Disneyland! I need Dr. Carter to mediate!"

Dragging his casted leg, he miraculously scrambled into the backseat of the custom Mercedes V-Class—spacious enough for three, specially chosen by Alexander for Evelyn's comfort.

Alexander glanced at the rearview mirror. Seeing Evelyn's calm expression, he silently fastened his seatbelt. Though their private time was interrupted, he wouldn't complain if she didn't mind.

Noticing Victor had been "rescued," Vivian turned to Simon. "How are you getting back?"

"I had some red wine at lunch." Simon stood under the dappled shade of plane trees, fractured sunlight scattering across his tall frame. "But it should've metabolized by now."

Vivian frowned. "You'll lose your license if caught. Want me to drive your car back? I'm heading to Evelyn's anyway—can take the subway later to retrieve mine."

Thud. Victor stuck his head out the window. "What, Mr. Securities Elite doesn't know how to swipe a metro card?" His sarcastic tone instantly overpowered the floral scent in the air with vinegar.

Simon adjusted his glasses. "I lived in a basement in the suburbs after graduation. Four-hour daily commute." His quiet words made Vivian's eyes light up.

"Same! I rode the subway daily during Dempsey Group's crisis." She eagerly launched into startup war stories.

Within moments, Simon naturally slid into her passenger seat. "Mind if I hitch a ride? I'll collect my car tomorrow." His fingers lightly brushed the knitted charm on her rearview mirror. "Did you make this? Adorable."

Victor, watching from the other car, nearly chewed through the window frame in frustration. Alexander and Evelyn exchanged an amused glance.

"Should we follow?" Alexander tapped the steering wheel.

Victor hissed through clenched teeth, "That's my seat!"

Evelyn kindly reminded him, "You sat in the back last time."

The Mercedes glided after Vivian's car. Victor clawed at the seat, his injured foot unconsciously grinding into the mat. Evelyn suddenly spoke: "Secondary fractures might require steel pins."

Victor froze instantly, a horrifying image flashing through his mind—him hobbling on crutches at Vivian's wedding.

"So," Evelyn met his eyes directly, "when did you start having feelings for Vivian?"