Chapter 81
The moment Evelyn Sinclair returned from the charity auction, she locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone. Her mood was unusually somber, a stark contrast to her usual vibrant self.
That evening, Nathan and Sebastian Whitmore came to check on their sister. Though Evelyn eventually came downstairs, she lacked her usual energy, her movements sluggish and her expression distant.
“Evie, Mrs. Kensington told us what happened at the auction,” Nathan said gently, taking his sister’s bandaged hand in his. His fingers traced the edges of the dressing with care. “How’s the wound? Did Tristan take care of it for you? Does it still hurt? Any signs of infection?”
“I know basic first aid. I can handle it myself,” Evelyn muttered, pulling her hand back abruptly. “Tristan already has enough to worry about. I didn’t want to bother him with something so minor.”
“Tristan is becoming unreliable!” Sebastian snapped, his eyes burning with fury. “If I hadn’t run into Mrs. Kensington at home and heard about what happened to you at the auction, we would’ve been left in the dark!”
“Tomorrow, I’ll personally serve a subpoena to the Blackwoods. Nathan can mobilize the Whitmore Holdings legal team and sue those old witches for defamation!” His voice was sharp with barely contained rage. “I’ll make sure they regret ever crossing the Whitmores!”
“Let it go. It’s not worth it,” Evelyn murmured, leaning against Nathan’s broad chest. “They have their own legal team. If this escalates, Father will find out. And I don’t want that.”
Deep down, she feared her father learning about her entanglement with Sebastian Blackwood. While Reginald Whitmore couldn’t punish her directly, the stress might trigger his hypertension. Despite his formidable presence, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. She refused to burden him with her mess.
But that didn’t mean she would let Vanessa Delacroix off the hook. Evelyn glanced at her injured hand, her heart aching as she remembered the emerald bracelet she had spent days painstakingly repairing. Tears pricked her eyes.
“Dominic is trying to get leave from the military after hearing you were hurt,” Nathan said, stroking her dark hair. “And Julian is already on his way back. He’ll be home soon.”
“It’s just a scratch! How can I let them drop everything for this?” Evelyn protested. “One holds a high-ranking position, and the other has critical responsibilities. They can’t afford to be distracted by something so trivial.”
She pulled out her phone and sent a voice message to the Whitmore family group chat:
“I’ll ignore anyone who dares to come back for a full year!”
“Evie, I already got clearance,” Dominic replied instantly.
“I don’t care! If you come back, you’re no longer my brother. Do what you want with that information!”
Julian, however, remained silent.
“Looks like you won’t be able to stop Julian. He’s probably already mid-flight,” Sebastian said, pointing upward with a smirk.
Evelyn groaned, rubbing her temples in exasperation.
Julian had always been the quiet one, but since childhood, he’d loved surprising her. If he returned now, he would undoubtedly dote on her relentlessly, leaving her other brothers in the dust.
“I’m ignoring him. I’m done being his sister!” she huffed, chewing her lip before tugging at Nathan’s sleeve. “Nathan, take me back to Faircrest. I want to visit Stellus.”
Meanwhile, Genevieve Blackwood had unwittingly made enemies of every female in the Blackwood and Montclair families by stepping forward as a witness for Evelyn. Even before the incident, she had felt like she was walking on thin ice at home. Now, it was as if she were treading on burning coals.
“You little traitor!” Cassandra Blackwood stormed into Genevieve’s room, her breath reeking of alcohol. She jabbed a finger in her sister’s face. “Did that scheming witch pay you off? Are you her spy now?”
“I—I’m not a spy! I didn’t lie! Nobody paid me!” Genevieve stammered, her face pale as she clutched her favorite teddy bear tightly. “Y-you were bullying Evelyn… I didn’t want her to be hurt!”
The teddy bear was a limited-edition collectible Evelyn had specially bought for her from Randend, waiting in the rain for six hours just to secure it. Genevieve slept with it every night.
“How dare you raise your voice at me?” Cassandra snarled, grabbing a fistful of Genevieve’s soft hair and yanking hard. “I’ll teach you a lesson!”
“Ah! It hurts! Stop!”
“Who told you to straighten your hair? Didn’t I forbid you from doing it?” Cassandra jerked her head back and forth viciously.
This wasn’t just about Evelyn. The real source of Cassandra’s rage stemmed from that day at the Verona Arts Auction House—when Lucian Ashford, the man she had longed for, had approached Genevieve unprompted. Not only had he spoken to her, but he had also smiled and touched her short hair.
Cassandra had witnessed the entire exchange, jealousy burning through her like acid. She had wanted to shave Genevieve’s head bald right then and there.
“I know exactly what you’re plotting!” Cassandra hissed. “Are you really helping that witch? Or are you just pretending—”
