Chapter 28
The morning sun cast golden streaks across the penthouse as Evelyn Sinclair adjusted the strap of her silk robe. The city below was just waking, but her mind had been racing since dawn. The confrontation with Sebastian Blackwood at the charity gala still burned fresh in her memory—his cold dismissal, the way his fingers had lingered a second too long on Vanessa Delacroix’s waist.
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. “Miss Sinclair?” Tristan Gallagher’s voice carried through the door. “Your brother is on line one. He says it’s urgent.”
Evelyn sighed, reaching for the phone. Nathan Whitmore never called before nine unless there was trouble. “What is it now?” she asked, pressing the receiver to her ear.
“Turn on the financial news,” Nathan’s voice crackled with barely contained fury. “Blackwood Enterprises just announced a hostile takeover bid for our Silverpine Valley project.”
Her blood ran cold. The valley was Whitmore Holdings’ crown jewel—a billion-dollar development her father had secured after years of negotiations. She lunged for the remote, nearly tripping over the Persian rug as CNBC’s headline flashed: Blackwood Makes Power Play Against Whitmore Dynasty.
The screen cut to Sebastian standing before a bank of microphones, his charcoal suit accentuating the predatory slant of his shoulders. “This acquisition aligns with our long-term strategy,” he said smoothly, emerald eyes glinting with calculated arrogance. Behind him, Vanessa smirked like a cat who’d cornered a canary.
Evelyn’s nails bit into her palms. This wasn’t business—it was revenge. She’d rejected his marriage proposal five years ago, and now he was dismantling her family empire piece by piece.
Tristan materialized with a tablet, his expression grim. “Legal just flagged something else. Blackwood’s team filed an injunction to freeze our construction permits. They’re claiming environmental violations.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “Since when does Sebastian care about trees?” She scrolled through the documents, then froze at a familiar signature. “Dominic Vega? Zoleva Corp’s COO is backing this?” The pieces clicked together—Sebastian had allied with her family’s oldest rivals.
The intercom buzzed. “Miss Sinclair,” the doorman announced, “a Mr. Gideon Sterling is here. He says it’s about the valley.”
Evelyn’s pulse stuttered. Gideon—her childhood friend, the one man who’d stood by her when the Blackwood scandal broke. She hadn’t seen him since his abrupt departure to Eldermere three years prior.
“Send him up,” she said, smoothing her robe. Whatever game Sebastian was playing, she’d need allies. And Gideon Sterling had always been the wild card no one saw coming.
As the elevator pinged, she caught her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. The vulnerable girl Sebastian had destroyed was gone. In her place stood a Whitmore heiress with fire in her veins—and a plan forming behind her steel-gray eyes.
Let the war begin.
Evelyn Sinclair strode back into her office, the weight of the recent encounter still pressing on her shoulders.
Isabelle Laurent approached her with trembling legs, her cheeks flushed. “I—I was terrified! Mr. Blackwood is so… intense. The moment he walked in, I could barely breathe. Did I—did I do alright, Ms. Sinclair?”
Evelyn handed her a thick envelope. “You did perfectly. This is yours.”
Isabelle’s eyes widened as she took it. “Th-Thank you!”
Just then, Tristan Gallagher stepped forward, presenting a document—a confidentiality agreement.
“I trust you,” Evelyn said, her voice cool but not unkind, “but it’s better to have everything in writing. What happened today stays between us. If I find out you’ve spoken a word of it to anyone, there will be consequences.”
Isabelle swallowed hard, nodding as she signed. With one last nervous glance, she hurried out.
Tristan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Rumor has it Sebastian Blackwood is ruthless in business. I can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. Don’t you agree, Ms. Sinclair? Ms. Sinclair?”
Evelyn snapped out of her thoughts, her lips curving into a bitter smile. “He’s utterly devoted to Vanessa Delacroix. Enough to swallow his pride and come here himself.”
“I heard his first marriage was a disaster. And now that he’s engaged to Vanessa, I suppose his ex-wife—”
Evelyn’s fist slammed onto the desk, her icy glare silencing him instantly. Tristan stiffened, unsure what he’d said wrong.
“Ms. Sinclair,” he backtracked quickly, “since the deal with Blackwood fell through, what’s our next move?”
“Wait,” she said simply.
“Wait?”
“Yes. Let the pressure build until the Delacroix Group is drowning in scandal. Let them scramble to fix their reputation. And when they’re at their weakest—” Her fingers curled into a fist. “—that’s when we strike.”
“You don’t think Sebastian will intervene?”
Evelyn’s gaze flickered to the painting he had praised earlier, her expression unreadable. “No. He was used before, but now he knows the truth. He won’t lift a finger for them. Not when his only concern is Vanessa.”
Sebastian had climbed ten flights of stairs for Vanessa. He had set aside his pride, walked into enemy territory—all for her.
Yet, when Evelyn had been doubled over in pain, begging for a glass of water, he hadn’t even glanced her way.
“Sebastian, my stomach—could you just—”
“I’m busy. Ask Beatrice.”
Her fingers dug into her palms. A slow, humorless smile twisted her lips. “Sebastian Blackwood, I hope you and Vanessa rot together.”
Outside, the drizzle had turned into a raging storm, mirroring Sebastian’s mood.
The car was suffocatingly silent. He massaged his temples, his head pounding.
Maxwell Reeves glanced at him. “You’ve dealt with worse before. Why is this one getting to you?”
Sebastian didn’t answer. The image of Evelyn—younger, softer—flashed in his mind. There was something unsettling about it, yet the woman he’d just met bore no resemblance to that memory.
“Dig into the Delacroix-Taylor dispute,” he ordered. “Find out where Frederick and Damien are hiding. Report back immediately.”
Back at Blackwood Enterprises, he drowned himself in meetings and paperwork. Leaning back in his chair, he exhaled sharply.
He had thought things would be simpler after Evelyn left.
He was wrong.
