Chapter 193

The setting sun stretched Ethan Sullivan's shadow long across the plaza before the Sullivan Group headquarters. He stood stubbornly before the revolving doors until security emerged for the third time. "Mr. Sullivan left through the underground garage hours ago. Please leave." Only then did the man stagger away, his tailored trousers dust-streaked.

——

In the MY Fashion Group design director's office, Sophia Reynolds nearly spilled her coffee with a startled shriek. She burst into the CEO's office like a whirlwind, embracing Evelyn Sullivan mid-signature. "Oh my god! Bianca Quinn just released a clarification video! How did you pull this off?"

Evelyn's fountain pen paused, leaving an ink blot on the document. She blotted it calmly with a tissue. "Glorious and Brocade's surveillance systems proved... more fragile than they imagined."

"Are we relaunching the Fall Collection tomorrow?"

"Mmm." Evelyn closed the file folder. "The new designer starts tomorrow. She'll take Yvonne Young's workstation directly."

Sophia's eyes widened. "That fast? Don't tell me you'd prepared—"

Evelyn's enigmatic smile caught the gilded sunset through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

——

At precisely six o'clock, the Sullivan matriarch's call arrived.

"Darling, I've pickled your favorite mustard greens," the elderly voice chirped through the receiver. "Bring that rascal Ethan home for dinner."

Evelyn's hand hesitated on the locked drawer. "He's been..."

"Working late again?" The old woman huffed. "Forget him! You must come!"

Descending in the elevator, Evelyn absently scrolled through her contacts when a bloodcurdling scream pierced the twilight.

"Die!"

White-hot pain seared her back as she crashed into a planter. Spinning around, she saw Yvonne lunging with a fruit knife, venom in her crimson-rimmed eyes.

"You ruined my life!" The blade glinted in the fading light.

A dark figure materialized. Ethan's iron grip snapped Yvonne's wrist with an audible crack. The knife clattered to the pavement as security swarmed.

"You schemed together!" Yvonne writhed against her captors. "That bitch Bianca—"

"Call the police." Ethan loosened his tie, then froze. "You're bleeding."

Evelyn glanced at her arm—blood welled from a gash, dripping onto the concrete. Ethan's suit jacket was already pressed against the wound, the fabric darkening crimson.

Sirens wailed in the distance. As officers shoved Yvonne into a squad car, the designer flashed a grotesque smile. "You think this is over?"