Chapter 102
Evelyn could endure the divorce, but surrendering to the Blackwoods was never an option.
As Evelyn stepped out of the patient’s room, she slid on a pair of sunglasses, masking the fiery determination burning in her gaze. She dialed Julian’s number. He answered instantly, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt. “Evie! Finally remembered your favorite brother exists?”
Julian’s tone was theatrically wounded. “Sebastian smirked at me yesterday, saying you’ve been ignoring me. I nearly lost it! Damn it, I refuse to lose to that smug bastard!”
“You’re all my brothers. Why the competition for my attention? Stop making me sound like some queen bee. I’m not Marie Antoinette,” Evelyn retorted, rolling her eyes before lowering her voice. “Julian, I need a favor.”
His dramatic gasp echoed through the phone. “That tone! What’s happening? Are we drifting apart? Tell me the truth, Evie—do you still love me?” Julian had fully morphed into the tragic hero of a daytime drama.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Cut the theatrics. I’m serious.”
“Ah, there’s the Evie I know! Much better. Now, what’s up?” His grin was practically audible.
Her expression darkened as she murmured, “I’m uploading a video tomorrow. I need you to ensure it stays viral long enough to make an impact.”
“How long?”
“Until it’s unavoidable.”
“Piece of cake. But darling, favors don’t come free. What’s in it for me?” His voice dropped to a sultry purr.
Evelyn arched a brow. “Name your price.”
“Can I punch Sebastian in the face? Just once?”
“Get lost!”
The next morning, Sebastian sat at the head of the conference table in Blackwood Enterprises, his regal demeanor laced with icy authority that kept his executives on edge.
“The Silverpine Valley bid is non-negotiable. Every department will coordinate seamlessly. No excuses.”
Mid-speech, a muffled gasp broke the silence. One executive discreetly checked his phone, eyes widening before nudging his neighbor. Like dominoes, the shock rippled around the table until the entire room buzzed with hushed disbelief.
Sebastian’s glare could freeze lava. “Am I unclear? Phones stay off during meetings.”
His own phone vibrated. Scrolling, his jaw clenched. The screen displayed a viral hashtag: #TheAngelWhoSavedTheDay.
The moment the meeting adjourned, he stormed into his office, slamming the door. “Maxwell. Explain why Cassandra’s video is trending again.”
Maxwell wiped his brow. “It was uploaded this morning, sir. PR didn’t have time to—”
“Fix it. Now.”
“But Twitter refuses to take it down!”
Sebastian’s knuckles whitened. “Thirty minutes. Erase it.”
Then Maxwell paled. “Sir… look.”
The hashtag had mutated. The video now showcased Evelyn—his ex-wife—heroically saving a hotel employee, her face crystal clear.
Sebastian’s phone shattered against the wall.
