Chapter 18
Raphael’s jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. So this was Zachary’s secret ex-wife.
Honestly, her beauty outshone his sister’s by miles. His shallow, attention-seeking sister wouldn’t stand a chance against this stunning woman if it weren’t for their childhood connection with Zachary.
“Mr. Blackwood, even if she’s your ex-wife, that doesn’t mean I owe her an apology!” Raphael refused to back down, unwilling to lose face. “If she apologizes first, I’ll let this go!”
“Your men would have done something unspeakable if I hadn’t arrived in time.” Zachary’s voice was icy. “Just because it didn’t happen doesn’t absolve you. Apologize.”
Raphael trembled inwardly but kept his defiant stance.
Evelyn’s cheeks flushed as the alcohol took full effect.
She caught snippets of “ex-wife” and “apology,” and her temper flared. This despicable man expects me to apologize? I should rip his head off and use it as a soccer ball!
“Apologies are tedious,” a smooth voice cut in. “Let’s settle this my way. Either we call the police and let me play the model citizen, or we take him outside and teach him a lesson.”
Damien Prescott sauntered over, a wicked smirk on his lips. Behind him stood two rows of intimidating men, their presence suffocating.
“Why should I be the one getting beaten? Is there no justice anymore?” Raphael’s voice shook as he took in Damien.
Damien crooked a finger, and the woman who had nearly been drugged earlier timidly stepped forward.
“First, in my club, these women serve drinks and dance—nothing more. Forcing her to drink and harassing her breaks my rules.”
“Second, I don’t tolerate drugs in my establishment. I despise it more than anything. Normally, I’d break the legs of anyone involved. Consider yourself lucky Ms. Sinclair intervened—otherwise, you’d already be dead.”
Zachary’s expression darkened. So that was what had happened.
“Hah! Well done!” Evelyn grinned, giving Damien a thumbs-up.
“Glad you approve.” Damien winked at her.
Zachary’s chest tightened inexplicably at their playful exchange.
“Zachary, thoughts on my suggestion?” Damien asked.
“Fair enough,” Zachary replied curtly.
“It was my fault! I’m sorry!” Raphael gritted his teeth, humiliation burning through him. “Mr. Blackwood, I had no idea she was your ex-wife. I was ignorant. I’ll compensate Ms. Sinclair. Please forgive me…”
Zachary still wasn’t satisfied—until he realized something.
Evelyn was gone.
“Looking for your ex-wife?” Damien smirked, nodding toward the stage.
Zachary’s gaze snapped to the dance floor, and his heart stuttered.
Under the hypnotic lights, Evelyn swayed with effortless grace, her movements intoxicating. She was radiant, eclipsing everything around her.
She was completely drunk.
Lost in the moment, she tipped backward—only to be caught in strong, familiar arms.
Blinking up at Zachary’s furious face, she grinned sloppily. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Zachary hauled her into the men’s restroom.
She barely made it to the sink before retching violently. Even beauty couldn’t salvage this mess.
At first, Zachary watched coldly from the doorway. But when he saw her trembling, he stepped forward, his hand settling gently on her back.
Once she finished, she staggered to the sink, rinsing her mouth.
“Ugh… I feel awful…”
“Then why drink so much?” His voice was sharp, but his touch remained steady.
