Chapter 89
The lobby of the hotel was quickly filling with curious onlookers, drawn by the escalating commotion.
“Ms. Blackwood, please, let’s discuss this matter privately in the parlor. Causing a scene here will only damage your reputation,” the front desk manager pleaded, his forehead glistening with sweat as he tried to reason with Cassandra.
“If your staff has the audacity to steal from someone like me, who’s to say they won’t target other guests?” Cassandra sneered, slamming her palm against the marble counter. Her other hand rested on her hip, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some recognized her immediately—Cassandra Blackwood, the infamous daughter of the Blackwood family. But if not for her face, they might have mistaken her for some unruly troublemaker harassing the staff.
“I—I didn’t take anything!” the housekeeper stammered, her voice trembling as she kept her head bowed.
“How dare you lie to my face!” Cassandra jabbed a perfectly manicured finger toward the woman’s face, her crimson nails glinting dangerously. If not for the manager stepping in, she might have clawed the poor woman’s eyes out.
“My necklace was on the sink! It didn’t just disappear into thin air!”
“I did clean the suite, but I wasn’t the only one there!” The housekeeper’s face was pale, but she refused to back down.
“What are you implying?” One of Cassandra’s friends stepped forward, her expression livid. “We’re all VIP guests here! A necklace means nothing to us—only to people like you.”
Cassandra smirked, crossing her arms. “Pathetic. I always thought Whitmore Holdings’ hotels were top-tier, but clearly, I was wrong. Maybe this place is just a front for something shady.”
The manager’s expression darkened.
Guests at the Silvercrest Hotel were usually refined, dignified. It had been years since he’d dealt with someone as crude and unreasonable as Cassandra.
“Ms. Blackwood,” a cool, composed voice cut through the tension, “it’s unwise to slander our establishment and humiliate our staff before the truth is uncovered.”
The crowd turned in unison, their eyes landing on a striking woman in a tailored white suit.
Evelyn Sinclair strode forward, her presence commanding the room. Every step exuded authority, her sapphire earrings catching the light as she moved.
Cassandra’s friends gaped.
“What are you doing here?” Cassandra’s shock quickly twisted into disdain as she raked her gaze over Evelyn’s designer ensemble.
Evelyn’s suit was custom-made, her heels from an exclusive luxury brand. Even her jewelry screamed wealth. Standing beside her, Cassandra looked like a cheap imitation.
The guests whispered among themselves. Who was this woman? Her beauty was almost ethereal.
At that moment, Sebastian Blackwood and Nathaniel Graves entered the lobby.
Sebastian’s breath hitched when he spotted his ex-wife—the woman who had vanished without a trace for days—standing in the center of the commotion. His pulse quickened, his gaze locked onto her like a man under a spell.
“Mr. Blackwood, that’s Madam Sinclair!” Nathaniel exclaimed before his expression faltered. “Wait—Ms. Cassandra is there too. Something’s going on.”
Sebastian’s instincts flared at the sight of his sister. He moved to intervene but hesitated.
“Hold on. Let’s see how this plays out.”
When the housekeeper saw Evelyn, tears welled in her eyes. “M-Ms. Evelyn…”
Cassandra scoffed. “Oh? So you’re the one running this place now? How… unexpected.”
Evelyn arched a brow, her lips curving slightly. “Is it? I find my life far more fulfilling these days.” Her voice was smooth, effortless. “At least now, I’m living as I please.”
Her words reached Sebastian’s ears, tightening something in his chest.
What did she mean by that? Was she mocking the life they’d shared?
The tension in the air thickened, the room holding its breath as the two women faced off—one a storm of fury, the other an unshakable force of elegance.
And Sebastian? He could only watch, caught between past regrets and a present he no longer controlled.
