Chapter 27
The grand ballroom of Crestwood Manor shimmered under the chandeliers, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Evelyn Sinclair stood near the balcony doors, her fingers tightening around the stem of her champagne flute. The Whitmore family’s annual gala was in full swing, but her mind was elsewhere—on the man who had just walked in with Vanessa Delacroix draped over his arm.
Sebastian Blackwood.
His presence was magnetic, commanding the attention of every guest in the room. The sharp lines of his tuxedo accentuated his broad shoulders, and his dark eyes swept the crowd with calculated indifference. Beside him, Vanessa laughed at something he murmured, her crimson gown clinging to her curves like a second skin.
Evelyn exhaled slowly, forcing herself to look away.
“Still pretending you don’t care?” Nathan Whitmore appeared at her side, his voice low.
She shot her eldest brother a glare. “I don’t.”
Nathan smirked, swirling his whiskey. “Then why are you gripping that glass like you’re about to snap it in half?”
Before she could retort, the music shifted—a slow, haunting melody that made her pulse stutter. She didn’t need to turn around to know Sebastian was approaching. She could feel him, the way the air seemed to charge with electricity whenever he was near.
“May I have this dance?” His voice was velvet over steel, sending a shiver down her spine.
Vanessa’s sharp intake of breath was audible.
Evelyn turned, meeting his gaze with deliberate coolness. “I’d rather not.”
Sebastian’s lips curved, unfazed. “Afraid?”
A challenge. One she couldn’t resist.
She set her glass down with a quiet clink and placed her hand in his. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
The moment his fingers closed around hers, heat flared between them, undeniable and fierce. He pulled her into the center of the dance floor, his other hand settling at the small of her back. Too close. Too familiar.
“You look stunning,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear.
Evelyn stiffened. “Save your compliments for Vanessa.”
Sebastian’s grip tightened imperceptibly. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
She laughed, sharp and brittle. “And arrogance doesn’t suit you, yet here we are.”
His eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering in their depths. “You forget—I know you, Evelyn. Better than anyone in this room.”
The words struck like a blade.
Before she could respond, the music swelled, and he spun her in a graceful arc, drawing gasps from the onlookers. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them—the heat of his touch, the intensity of his stare.
Then the song ended.
Sebastian released her, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Until next time.”
Evelyn clenched her fists, watching as he returned to Vanessa’s side, the woman’s possessive grip on his arm making her stomach twist.
Nathan reappeared, his expression unreadable. “You okay?”
She forced a smile. “Perfect.”
But as she glanced toward the balcony, a figure caught her eye—Vanessa’s brother, Damien Delmar, watching the exchange with a calculating smirk.
And suddenly, Evelyn knew—this game was far from over.
Evelyn burst into laughter. Isabelle had no choice but to join in. Sebastian’s brows furrowed.
“I’ll take that, but there’s no need to be shy. I can always recreate this painting. You can keep it.”
Evelyn’s words dripped with sarcasm.
Sebastian’s expression hardened, his fists clenching at his sides.
“You went through so much trouble to meet me. I doubt it was just for a painting. Let’s get to the point.” She didn’t have time for games.
“Fine. I’m here about the Gardner Group situation. I want you to back off. There’s room for negotiation.” His voice was low, but his gaze was sharp. “Cooperating with us would benefit you in Faircrest.”
“You call this oppression, Mr. Blackwood?” Evelyn scoffed.
“I call it justice—exposing deceitful sellers. A warning to others, so no one repeats their mistakes. No one should be stuck with subpar products.”
“Even the best companies face recalls. Mistakes happen.” Sebastian defended the Delacroix family.
He added, “Return the products or demand a refund. But dragging their name through the mud? Unnecessary. Crushing a mid-sized company like this will only make others wary of working with you.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The chocolate in her hand crumbled to dust.
So, this was a threat. If she didn’t back down, Blackwood Enterprises would make sure Whitmore Holdings struggled in Faircrest.
Fury burned in her chest. How dare he threaten me? Does he think I’ll cower?
“Touching, how far you’ll go for your lover. But business isn’t about sentiment. I admire your persistence, but even if you owned Faircrest, it wouldn’t change my stance.”
Sebastian stiffened, anger flashing in his eyes. But he couldn’t argue. He’d never stooped to clean up someone else’s mess before—until now, for Vanessa.
Evelyn savored the tension on his face through the monitor.
“Since we’ve reached an impasse, there’s nothing left to discuss. Next time we meet, it’ll be at the negotiation table. Brace yourself—I won’t hold back.”
Sebastian stood, his pride refusing to show defeat. He held himself like a soldier, unyielding.
As he turned to leave, a desperate voice cut through the room.
“I was wrong, Ms. Sinclair! I made a terrible mistake! Please—if this gets out, my reputation is ruined! Elysian Home approached me with a scheme. It was all Mr. Delacroix’s idea! I never knew it was a setup!”
Sebastian froze, shock rippling through him.
Evelyn crossed her legs, smirking as she watched his composure shatter.
“If it were a small mistake, I might’ve let it slide. But a deliberate scheme? I’ll tear it down, no matter the cost.”
She leaned forward. “Remember that, Mr. Blackwood. We’ll meet again.”
Sebastian left in a daze, his mind reeling. His temples throbbed.
Tristan approached, concern in his eyes. “Sir?”
“Not now.” Sebastian’s voice was rough. He strode away, his steps heavy.
Every word Evelyn had said replayed in his mind. The recording had shattered his assumptions. He’d thought Whitmore Holdings was targeting him out of spite.
He’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
Loosening his tie didn’t help—his chest still felt tight. Then, the sharp click of heels echoed behind him.
Graceful. Steady. Unmistakable.
