Chapter 59
Tristan smirked. “Miss Sinclair, your foresight never ceases to amaze me. I’ve been keeping tabs on the Delacroix family these past few days, and I’ve uncovered something interesting.”
Evelyn arched a brow. “As expected. Without Sebastian’s support, the Delacroixes are scrambling to cover their losses. Though I assumed they’d sell their estate first. Who knew they’d resort to pawning their jewelry?”
“Hmph. Seems they still have enough pride to cling to their mansion. Draining their fortune bit by bit is far more satisfying than a swift end. Watching them squirm is its own reward.”
Tristan scoffed. “Karma’s finally catching up to them.”
Evelyn didn’t respond. Instead, she idly flipped through the pawnshop ledger.
Few knew the Whitmores owned two of the most prestigious pawnshops in Valmont and Faircrest. Reginald, an avid collector of rare antiquities, had discreetly established them years ago to acquire treasures others overlooked. The shops had quietly amassed a fortune—most who pawned their valuables never reclaimed them.
Then her fingers stilled.
Her breath hitched as her gaze landed on an entry: Crimson Heart.
A bitter laugh nearly escaped her. The pendant—Sebastian’s so-called “token of eternal love” for Vanessa. She remembered the first time she’d seen it, two years ago, under the soft glow of moonlight. The way he’d cradled it like something sacred.
Back then, she’d foolishly dreamed of receiving even a fraction of that devotion. A pebble would’ve sufficed. But Sebastian only lavished gifts on those he cherished. And she? She hadn’t even warranted a second glance.
Now, Vanessa had sold it.
Evelyn’s grip tightened on the ledger. Irony and resentment coiled in her chest, her eyes glinting with something darkly amused.
“I’d pay to see Sebastian’s face when he finds out,” she murmured.
“What was that?” Tristan leaned in.
“The Delacroixes have no idea what they’ve lost. This piece is worth eight figures. They pawned it for a measly seven million.” Her lips curled into a razor-sharp smile. “We’re the ones profiting here.”
Just then, her phone buzzed. Nathan’s name flashed on the screen.
“Nathan!” Her voice softened instantly, honey-sweet.
“Eve, how are you holding up? Need me to handle anything?” His concern was palpable.
“I’m fine. You’re the one who shouldn’t overwork. Remember to rest.”
After a brief exchange, Nathan cleared his throat. “There’s a charity auction this weekend. Would you mind representing me? Father’s dead set on acquiring that antique rosewood chair. Budget’s a billion. But I’ve got that lecture at the cathedral…”
“Me? And what title should I use? ‘Girlfriend of Whitmore Holdings’ CEO’?” She popped a chocolate into her mouth, amused.
“That works.” He chuckled. “Go as whoever you like. Or just say you’re a Whitmore. That usually suffices.”
She chewed thoughtfully. “Fine, I’ll go. But what if I spot something else I want?”
“Buy it. I’ll cover it. Just remember our family rule—once we bid, we win. No exceptions.”
A slow smirk spread across her face. “Oh, I know. ‘Leave no path for others’—Father’s favorite motto.”
“Good luck, Eve. Don’t forget the chair.” The line went dead.
Tristan frowned. “The auction’s this weekend? Isn’t it short notice?”
Evelyn’s smile turned feline. “Don’t worry. I’ve already prepared everything.”
