Chapter 58
The Delacroix Group was in turmoil as public scrutiny intensified over their products and credibility.
A massive online boycott had erupted, forcing the closure of over 400 out of their 500 stores nationwide in less than a week. The few remaining locations barely clung to survival, resorting to fire sales—selling at a loss just to clear inventory.
Frederick Delacroix, already frail, collapsed under the stress of mounting financial losses. His wife, Genevieve, sought help from her sister, Isabella. But Isabella, fearing retaliation, could only watch from the sidelines.
“Archibald Blackwood has made his final threat—anyone who aids the Delacroix Group will be destroyed. Isabella, I’m family. Do you know how bitter this feels?”
Isabella sighed, squeezing her sister’s hand in sympathy. “The Blackwoods can’t intervene, but I’ve convinced Alistair to set a wedding date for Vanessa and Sebastian as soon as possible. What about the first weekend after Grandfather’s eightieth birthday?”
“What? We have to wait until then?” Genevieve snapped. She could endure the delay, but the Delacroix Group was bleeding money now.
“I wish they could marry tomorrow too. But Grandfather insists on waiting for his birthday celebration. There’s nothing I can do.” Isabella lowered her voice. “By the way, I heard Evelyn has moved on rather quickly. The day she left Seaview Manor, Nathan Whitmore himself escorted her away. Quite the spectacle.”
Genevieve had already heard whispers of Evelyn’s new conquests. The girl had somehow landed a man richer and more powerful than Sebastian.
“Could it be that the Whitmore Holdings’ sudden attack on our business is because Evelyn poisoned Nathan against us?” Isabella mused, fanning the flames.
Genevieve shot up from the couch, her eyes burning with fury. “That little witch! First, she ruins Vanessa’s engagement, and now that she’s divorced, she still wants to destroy us? Does she think she’s untouchable now that she’s found a new sugar daddy?”
“She’s not an easy opponent,” Isabella remarked, sipping her tea. “After all, Evelyn is Nathan’s favorite. The Whitmores are untouchable. Who would dare cross them?”
Genevieve’s lips curled into a sneer. “Oh, but what if the truth comes out? What if everyone learns that while Evelyn played the devoted wife in front of Archibald, she was secretly entangled with Nathan all along? Imagine the scandal if that were revealed at his birthday celebration!”
Isabella smiled faintly, saying nothing. The idea was brilliant—and entirely Genevieve’s.
Meanwhile, in the executive office of Whitmore Grand Hotel…
Evelyn had just finished reviewing financial reports and was now indulging in her favorite stress-reliever: a violent video game.
The screen was a bloodbath—her character, a ruthless mercenary, mowed down enemies with brutal efficiency. Just as she executed a particularly gruesome takedown, Tristan walked in—and immediately recoiled in horror.
“If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, get out.” Evelyn didn’t even glance up, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
“Miss, I have two interesting updates.” He covered the screen with one hand and slid a file toward her with the other before retreating to a safe distance.
“My God, you’re such a coward. How do you expect to protect your girlfriend with nerves like that?” Evelyn scoffed. “Next time, I’ll bring you to a horror movie. Let’s see you jump then.”
With that, she returned to her game, executing another brutal kill. The screen turned crimson.
“Exhilarating!”
Tristan grimaced.
Finally, after wiping out every last enemy, Evelyn exited the game and picked up the file.
“Isn’t this the pawnshop ledger from our family’s business? Why are you showing me this?”
“Because,” Tristan said carefully, “these pieces were pawned by Vanessa’s mother—through an intermediary.”
Evelyn’s smirk sharpened.
Interesting.
