Chapter 16
“Oh my God, who’s that stunning woman sitting with the president of Whitmore Holdings? Isn’t that Nathan Whitmore?”
Damien Prescott arched a brow, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Since when does the famously virtuous Nathan Whitmore step foot in a place like this? What a surprise to see him here tonight.”
No wonder Zachary and Damien hadn’t recognized him at first.
Evelyn Sinclair’s brothers were quadruplets, and the eldest, Nathan, and the second, Sebastian, bore an uncanny resemblance. To an outsider, they could easily be mistaken for one another.
“Damn, I’m jealous. A woman like that should be mine. What does Nathan have that I don’t?” Damien’s voice dripped with envy as he leaned forward, his gaze locked on Evelyn.
Downstairs, Evelyn was laughing softly at something Sebastian had said, her cheeks flushed from the wine.
Zachary’s chest tightened at the sight.
That smile—once reserved only for him—now belonged to someone else.
And despite the scandal that had nearly ruined her reputation, here she was, carefree and radiant, as if nothing had ever happened. Meanwhile, he had spent the entire day drowning in guilt, trying to figure out how to fix the mess he had made.
“Tell you what,” Damien said, his voice low and suggestive, “I think I’ll make my move tonight. So what if she’s Nathan’s woman? Even the best goalkeeper can’t stop every shot.” His grin was wolfish, his intentions clear.
“Don’t even think about it,” Zachary snapped. “She’s my wife.”
Damien’s eyes widened.
“My ex-wife,” Zachary corrected through gritted teeth.
“Wait—that’s the uptight, boring woman you were married to?” Damien let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you blind? Or just stupid? She’s a goddess! A thousand times better than that Vanessa you’re obsessed with!”
Zachary shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, and Damien held up his hands in surrender. “Just saying what everyone’s thinking. You were the one who told me she wasn’t worth meeting. I expected some plain, dull woman—not that.” He gestured toward Evelyn. “Seriously, where are you—?”
Before he could finish, Zachary was already storming out of the VIP lounge.
Meanwhile, Evelyn and Sebastian had gone through several rounds of drinks, and her porcelain skin was now tinged pink.
“Evie, you okay?” Sebastian asked, frowning when he noticed her swaying slightly.
“One more round! Let’s play dice!” Evelyn usually had a high tolerance, but tonight, the weight of her emotions made the alcohol hit harder.
Just then, Sebastian’s phone buzzed—an urgent call from his superior. He sighed. “Evie, give me a sec. I’ll be right back.”
She waved him off with a lazy smile. “Go, go!”
The moment Sebastian left, the vultures descended.
Men closed in from all sides, their hungry gazes fixed on her. Evelyn tilted her head, studying them with half-lidded eyes.
Too short. Too scrawny. Bad nose. Small eyes.
None of them held a candle to Zachary.
Pity he had a heart as black as his soul.
Her attention snapped to a nearby table where a group of men were cheering as one of them poured a drink for a clearly uncomfortable woman.
And the man with that sleazy grin? None other than Vanessa’s brother, Raphael Delmar.
Worse—Evelyn’s sharp eyes caught one of the men slipping something into a glass before handing it to Raphael.
Rage burned through her veins. She stood abruptly and strode toward them.
“Hey, gorgeous!” The men whistled as she approached.
Raphael’s gaze raked over her, and the woman in his arms was instantly forgotten.
“You all seem like you’re having fun,” Evelyn purred, her voice laced with honeyed danger. “Mind if I join?”
“Of course not, sweetheart,” Raphael said, licking his lips. “We’ll give you whatever you want.”
Evelyn picked up the spiked drink. “Then drink this.”
Silence.
Raphael’s smile faltered.
Everyone knew what was in that glass.
“Not thirsty?” Evelyn’s eyes turned icy. “Then let me help you.”
Before he could react, she flung the contents straight into his face.
Gasps erupted. The woman beside Raphael shrieked and scrambled away.
And Evelyn?
She just smiled.
