Chapter 32
Vanessa stormed out of the Blackwood mansion, her sobs echoing through the grand hallway.
The maids exchanged knowing glances, whispering about her dramatic exit. Every visit ended the same way—tears, tantrums, and a hasty retreat. It was as if she considered Seaview Manor her personal stage for theatrics.
Zachary remained motionless on the couch, his gaze fixed on the ruined fabric in his hands. The once-pristine suit was now a crumpled mess, much like his thoughts.
“Mr. Blackwood, it’s late. You should rest.” Mrs. Winthrop approached, offering him a glass of warm milk. Her eyes flickered to the destroyed garment, and she sighed. “Such a waste.”
Zachary barely registered her words. His mind was elsewhere.
“The next time Vanessa comes,” he murmured, voice low but firm, “don’t let her near my room, my study, or—” He hesitated. “Or Evelyn’s room.”
Mrs. Winthrop nodded. “Consider it done. I’ll make sure she doesn’t set foot where she doesn’t belong.” A small, satisfied smile curved her lips. “Good thing I locked Madam Evelyn’s door earlier. Who knows what mess she might’ve made otherwise?”
Zachary’s jaw tightened. “Don’t be harsh. Vanessa isn’t that kind of person. I still owe her for the past three years.”
“And what about Madam Evelyn?” Mrs. Winthrop’s voice sharpened. “What did she do to deserve this? Don’t you feel anything for her after the divorce?”
Zachary’s fingers curled around the armrest. “Grandfather forced me into that marriage, not her. She could’ve refused.”
“So you’re saying she deserved to be discarded?”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
“Get some rest,” Mrs. Winthrop muttered, snatching the untouched milk from his grasp. She stormed out, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Zachary exhaled sharply. Since when did Evelyn win over everyone around me? The thought unsettled him.
Meanwhile, Vanessa arrived home in a storm of tears.
Without Blackwood Enterprises’ financial backing, the Delacroix Group was teetering on the edge of ruin.
“That bastard!” Raphael slammed his fist onto the table, his face flushed with rage. “He claims to love you, yet he treats us like dirt! Are we nothing to him?”
Vanessa wiped her tears, her voice trembling. “He does love me! He divorced Evelyn without hesitation—for me!”
Raphael scoffed. “He’s weighing his options. You’re from a wealthy family. What does Evelyn Sinclair have? A nobody from nowhere! Even an idiot would choose you over her!”
Though his words were meant to reassure, they stung. Vanessa’s fingers clenched around her skirt.
“Vanessa,” Frederick interjected, his brow furrowed. “What changed Zachary’s mind so suddenly? What happened?”
“I don’t know!” she cried. “He met Evelyn today, and afterward, he completely turned against us! He said he won’t help anymore!”
Frederick and Raphael exchanged uneasy glances.
“Did you two do something behind the scenes?” Vanessa’s voice turned accusatory. “He hates us now!”
Raphael’s eyes darkened. “Wait—could it be because of Evelyn?”
Vanessa froze. “What do you mean?”
“At the Prescotts’ bar last week, I ran into that woman. Zachary stepped in, made me apologize to her!” Raphael spat, humiliation burning in his chest.
Vanessa’s blood ran cold. Is he still protecting her?
“Enough,” Seraphina cut in, placing a soothing hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. “Once you’re Mrs. Blackwood, everything will fall into place.”
Vanessa’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Evelyn’s just a discarded wife. No matter how cunning she is, she can’t win against us.”
Seraphina nodded. “Our priority now is damage control. We need a scapegoat—someone to take the fall for our troubles.”
Vanessa’s eyes gleamed with renewed determination. This isn’t over yet.
