Chapter 63
Evelyn had always been prepared to sever ties with Sebastian. That’s why she carried her marriage certificate with her—a weapon to expose the truth and unveil the deceit of these women!
The Delacroix sisters had no rebuttal. After all, the marriage was legally binding. What could they say? Any protest would only dig their graves deeper.
“Let the world decide who the real mistress is!”
With those cutting words, Evelyn tucked the documents away and strode out, leaving Vanessa rooted in place, humiliation and fury burning in her chest.
The auction was moments away from starting, the venue nearly full. Isabella and Cassandra sat in the third row, their eyes locked on Lucian Ashford.
“He’s breathtaking,” Cassandra whispered, fingers tightening around her clutch.
“The security here is relentless. No amount of pleading got us closer,” Isabella muttered, though she added, “Don’t fret, darling. I’ll arrange a meeting soon. With your grace and pedigree, Lucian won’t stand a chance.”
Lucian had a notorious reputation, but Isabella was hellbent on securing the Ashford name for her daughter. And Cassandra? She was already smitten.
“Mother, Sebastian and Lucian are close. Could you ask him to introduce us?” Cassandra batted her lashes.
Isabella’s lips thinned. Begging that illegitimate son of Archibald Blackwood? Unthinkable.
“Where’s Amelia?”
“Probably hiding again. Must we bring her? She scowls at every camera—it’s mortifying!” Cassandra scoffed, disdain dripping.
Isabella sighed. “She’s twenty. If some wealthy heir takes interest, we’ll marry her off before she becomes a burden.”
Meanwhile, Seraphina and Vanessa fumed in the back rows, their designer gowns wasted in obscurity.
“Mother! Sebastian’s right there—I need to sit with him!” Vanessa shot up, only to be blocked by a stone-faced guard.
“Seating is fixed, Miss Delacroix.”
“You dare stop me? Do you know who I am?”
“Indeed. You’re Mr. Blackwood’s fiancée,” the guard replied coolly. “But the arrangements were made by the Ashford Group chairman. Not even his wife could change them.”
Vanessa’s face purpled, but Seraphina yanked her back. “Enough! You’re making a spectacle!”
Yet Seraphina’s nails dug into her palms as she watched Isabella and Cassandra laughing in the front. That woman had always overshadowed her.
The lights dimmed—only Nathan Whitmore’s seat remained empty. Sebastian glanced at the entrance, jaw tight.
“Strange. Nathan’s never late,” Lucian murmured.
Then the doors swung open.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even Sebastian, usually unshakable, froze.
There she was.
Evelyn Sinclair, lips painted blood-red, stilettos clicking like a death knell, owning every step as she walked in—
