Chapter 41
Sebastian Whitmore was still fuming over what Zachary Blackwood had done. He was about to unleash his anger when Evelyn Sinclair shot him a sharp glare, effectively silencing him.
“What the hell? I’m going to teach that bastard a lesson right now!” Tristan Gallagher exclaimed, already pushing himself up from his seat.
Before he could storm out, Evelyn called after him. “Don’t bother. You wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. He was in the Peacekeeping Forces, remember? You’d just end up getting hurt.”
She sighed, her voice softening. “Besides, he didn’t mean to hurt me. That man never knows his own strength. And he doesn’t care about me at all.”
Tristan frowned. “Ms. Sinclair, you talk like you’ve known him for years.”
Evelyn froze for a split second before pressing her lips together, refusing to elaborate.
Tristan didn’t know the full extent of her history with Zachary yet. It wasn’t that she wanted to hide it—she just didn’t have the energy to explain everything.
Her relationship with Zachary was over. She had no intention of ever rekindling it.
Back at Crestwood Manor, Sebastian brewed Evelyn a cup of coffee while muttering curses under his breath about Zachary being a heartless monster. He hadn’t stopped ranting about him the entire ride home.
“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” Evelyn murmured, staring guiltily at her feet.
Sebastian blinked in surprise. “Huh? Why are you apologizing to me?”
He reached out and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Are you running a fever? Since when do you talk nonsense?”
Evelyn shook her head. “I just… I had to ask for your help to keep my identity hidden while Nathan was away on business. I didn’t want you to think I was just using you.”
Her voice trailed off, barely audible.
Sebastian scoffed and pulled her into a careful embrace, mindful of her injured arm. “You ridiculous girl. We’re your brothers. Protecting you is our job. If you ever get married again, we’ll be your personal bodyguards.”
He hesitated, then added firmly, “And even if you stay single forever, we’ll still be here for you. You can always rely on us.”
Evelyn smiled, warmth flooding her chest.
Zachary Blackwood couldn’t focus during the afternoon meeting, his mind still stuck on Evelyn’s injury. He barely registered the senior managers presenting their reports, his expression dark and unreadable.
Everyone noticed the small cut at the corner of his mouth—and the dangerous aura radiating from him. But no one dared to ask what had happened. Fear kept them silent.
Despite being the illegitimate son, Zachary wielded absolute power in Blackwood Enterprises.
The legitimate heir, born to the first wife, was sickly and spent his days confined to a wheelchair in Randend. Rumors of his deteriorating health surfaced frequently.
Meanwhile, Isabella Montclair had two daughters—one twenty-five, the other twenty—but neither was competent enough to take over the company.
That left Zachary as the undisputed successor.
“Mr. Blackwood,” one of the managers spoke up nervously, “we’ve lost the Willow Group’s hotel deal.”
Zachary’s gaze snapped to him. “Who took it?”
“The Whitmore Holdings. The Willow Group transferred ownership to them. The hotel will be rebranded as the second Whitmore Grand Hotel in Verona City.”
Zachary’s entire body tensed, his eyes turning glacial.
“And you’re only telling me this now?”
The manager paled. “Our team was in final negotiations with the Willow Group. We were about to close the deal when Mr. Whitmore swooped in at the last minute. We didn’t anticipate this.”
Zachary’s voice dropped to a lethal calm. “You were about to close the deal? Then perhaps it’s time for you to retire.”
The manager’s knees nearly buckled.
“I told you that hotel is crucial—it’s right next to Global Studios. The theme park will be completed in two years! I said to secure it at any cost, even if it meant paying double!”
His voice sharpened like a blade. “But you hesitated. You lacked the guts to make the call. And now Whitmore Holdings has stolen it from under us. How do you plan to take responsibility?”
The manager wiped sweat from his brow.
“You’re being transferred to the Flogand branch. One more mistake, and you’re out—permanently.”
With that, Zachary stormed out, leaving the room in stunned silence.
In the car, Maxwell Reeves glanced at Zachary through the rearview mirror. “Do you think this is retaliation?”
“Ms. Delacroix attacked Madam Sinclair recently. Now Mr. Whitmore steals our deal. And let’s not forget the sudden exposure of the Delacroixs’ defective products.”
Maxwell hesitated. “Do you think Mr. Whitmore was behind the leak, sir? Though, frankly, the Delacroixs deserved it.”
Zachary’s cold gaze met his in the mirror, and Maxwell immediately shut up.
