Chapter 12
Evelyn shot Tristan a sharp glance, prompting him to immediately open the office door.
“Ms. Sinclair! Ms. Sinclair!” Gregory Holloway, the disgraced former VP, burst in with such force that Tristan couldn’t stop him. His face was flushed with panic.
Evelyn’s brows knitted together as she regarded the sweating man now leaning heavily on her desk. “Mr. Holloway? I’ve already processed your resignation. You’re free to pursue other opportunities.”
“This is unjust, Ms. Sinclair!” Gregory’s voice cracked. “Twenty years I’ve dedicated to this hotel! Worked myself sick for this company! Even Mr. Whitmore wouldn’t treat me this way. How can you dismiss me so callously?”
Her lips curled into an icy smile. “I’ve reviewed all executive health records. Fatty liver and gallbladder polyps? Quite the profitable condition for someone in your position.”
Gregory’s hands trembled as he caught her implication. “I-I didn’t know Elysian supplied substandard bedding! They’re an established Sna City brand with competitive pricing—”
With a flick of her wrist, Evelyn sent documents scattering at his feet. “Three years of financial records with Elysian. Are you telling me you never noticed these discrepancies in reports from your own department?”
As Gregory gathered the papers, his fingers shook like leaves in a storm. The figures burned through the pages like wildfire.
“I also received an… interesting tip.” Evelyn sipped her coffee leisurely, her steel-gray eyes glinting. “Seems you and Elysian share more than a professional relationship. Those generous kickbacks explain why you overlooked their shoddy products.”
His knees nearly buckled, teeth chattering audibly.
“Rest assured, I never terminate without evidence. But when I do…” She leaned forward. “I have everything needed for legal proceedings. Unless you’d prefer to settle this quietly?”
“Please, Ms. Sinclair!” Gregory collapsed to his knees. “One mistake! If this gets out, my career is finished! It was Elysian’s idea—Frederick Delacroix approached me! I thought the products were passable—”
“Pathetic.” A muscle twitched in Evelyn’s jaw. A twenty-year veteran playing the fool? “Enough. You know exactly what transpired. I suggest you leave before I call security. Tristan?”
As Tristan escorted the broken man out, Gregory’s demeanor shifted the moment the door closed. “That ice-cold bitch will pay for this!” he spat.
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. Corruption always infuriated her, but stealing from her family’s business? That ignited something primal.
“Gregory had quite the network here. Impressive how quickly people turned on him,” Tristan remarked eagerly.
Evelyn booted up her gaming console, fingers flying across the controls. “No one betrayed him.”
“Wait… you bluffed?”
“Guilty conscience.” Her avatar swung a massive battle-axe with lethal precision. “Pity for him I don’t tolerate thieves.”
Tristan grinned. “Three years of embezzlement! We should sue to recover every cent!”
“Diplomacy serves us better.” She decimated a digital opponent. “The board won’t appreciate excessive drama. My father promoted Gregory, after all. Have him monitored—especially if he contacts Raphael Delacroix again.”
“Yes, Ms. Sinclair!”
Her phone suddenly erupted with notifications. An avalanche of messages flooded a group chat.
“Not now. Tristan, check that.” Evelyn remained focused on her game.
Tristan scanned her phone. “It’s your brothers in ‘Whitmore Underground.’ They’re… agitated.”
The secret chat—created by Sebastian Whitmore—included Evelyn and her four brothers. Its purpose? Containing the fallout from her marriage to Sebastian Blackwood.
Sebastian: I’M GOING TO MURDER THAT BASTARD! Salt in the wound isn’t enough? He needs to rub it in our faces?!
Dominic: Already digging into Blackwood Enterprises. I’ll bankrupt them within the month.
Julian: Give me three days to break both his kneecaps.
Nathan: Amen.
Evelyn finally responded: STOP. What are you children doing?
Sebastian sent a Twitter link: They announced it! Some influencer is painting you as the other woman who stole Vanessa’s man! Saying you forced the marriage!
Julian added: Should I show them what a real homewrecker looks like?
Nathan replied: Violence begets violence, brother. Their karma comes. Breathe. Release the anger.
Sebastian: Nathan, I swear to God if you start preaching again—
Julian: I’ll have the posts removed and the trending topic buried within the hour, Evie.
Evelyn typed: Leave it.
Sebastian: ?!?!
Evelyn explained: I’m Evelyn Sinclair of the Whitmores. Sebastian’s ex is Alice White. We’ve never been seen together publicly.
Sebastian: Damn right! No one would connect you to this mess!
Evelyn’s fingers flew across the screen: Pity for a certain socialite though. She’s in for a rude awakening. A cold smile played on her lips.
“So desperate to be with her, Sebastian? By all means. But since she’s foolish enough to provoke me…” she thought.
At Blackwood Enterprises, chaos erupted. The PR department and Sebastian’s phones rang nonstop as news of his “second marriage” trended nationwide.
“Verona Daily broke the story,” Maxwell reported grimly. “Sources say Vanessa personally delivered the scoop. The hashtag #WhoIsBlackwoodsBride has over a million mentions. They’re crucifying ‘Alice’ online…”
“Terminate them.” Sebastian’s voice could freeze hell.
Verona Daily was essentially Blackwood’s mouthpiece.
“Everyone involved?”
“Every. Single. One.”
“Yes, sir. But the online discourse… It’s beyond containment now.” Maxwell hesitated. “Madam Sinclair must be devastated—”
Sebastian’s expression darkened. He immediately dialed Nathan—again. At this rate, people would think he was courting the eldest Whitmore brother.
As if on cue, Vanessa’s call flashed across his screen. The sight of her name made his jaw clench.
