Chapter 130

Evelyn Sinclair's expression darkened as she endured Adrian Cross's lengthy monologue. Though she longed to rebuke him sharply, propriety held her tongue.

"Mr. Cross," she began carefully, "you've always been my mentor. I respect you deeply."

Adrian's smile vanished, replaced by a chilling grimace. Evelyn's reluctance was palpable—her furrowed brows, the tension in her posture. To him, her hesitation was nothing but arrogance, a deliberate humiliation.

"Do you know why your agency stopped pressuring you about your expiring contract?" Adrian asked abruptly.

Evelyn stiffened. "Once it expires, they can't control me anymore."

In truth, she suspected her agency had orchestrated the recent smear campaign against her. They should have defended her—their contract was still active—yet they'd done nothing. Perhaps they wanted to break her spirit, force her back into their clutches.

But Adrian's next words sent a shiver down her spine.

"They wouldn't let a cash cow like you go so easily," he murmured. "Especially one so... entertaining for clients."

Evelyn's fists clenched.

"It was my influence that shielded you," Adrian continued smoothly. "I told them you were mine. This project? A gift—proof of what I can offer you."

Nausea twisted in Evelyn's gut. Adrian had built his empire on his wife's wealth, but his connections were formidable. Yet even he couldn't intimidate her agency alone—unless he'd invoked her name.

Seraphina Delacroix.

The thought made Evelyn's blood run cold. Seraphina was volatile, reckless enough to let her husband flirt publicly with his "rival." If Adrian claimed Evelyn had spurned him, Seraphina's wrath would annihilate her career.

Adrian smirked, reading her realization. "Your agency fears her. And now, so should you."

Evelyn forced steadiness into her voice. "No matter their games, I'm leaving. I'll endure whatever comes."

Adrian's mask slipped. "Such ingratitude." He clutched his chest dramatically. "I feel unwell. Perhaps I can't perform tonight..."

Evelyn's breath hitched. He wouldn't.

But the gleam in his eyes confirmed it—this was blackmail.

"Mr. Cross," she pleaded, "the show needs you!"

"Does it?" He shrugged. "With so many withdrawals already, one more won't matter. And given the public's opinion of you..." His smile turned venomous. "Who'd miss your performance?"

Trembling, Evelyn weighed her options. Isabelle Laurent's agency was her last hope, but their strict policies made her a liability. This live show was her chance to prove herself—to silence the rumors with talent.

Yet Adrian was about to steal that too.

Backstage, Nathan Blackwood's gaze sharpened as he spotted the Quirks exiting. Isabelle tensed beside him.

"Something's wrong," she muttered.

Nathan's jaw tightened. He'd seen that look on Evelyn's face before—the look of someone cornered.

Onstage, the host announced a sudden change: "Due to Mr. Cross's health, we'll adjust the lineup. Next up—Julian Blackwood and Evelyn Sinclair in A Beautiful Disaster!"

The audience erupted in confusion.

In her hospital room, Seraphina Delacroix smirked at her phone. "Good. Now flood the feed with hate. I want her destroyed."

But as the curtain rose, Evelyn stepped forward—not broken, but blazing with defiance.

The real disaster was only beginning.

Netizen Reactions:

1: Here comes the downfall!

3: Homewreckers deserve this!

5: APOLOGIZE, EVELYN!

7: Jail her!

9: Even her fans are delusional.

12: Team Noble's humiliation starts NOW!

14: Poor Adrian, manipulated by that witch!

16: "Confidant"? More like mistress!

17: Watch this leaked clip with their performance—it’s hilarious!

The screen flickered as Evelyn took her mark. Nathan's voice whispered in her ear, barely audible:

"Don't let him win."

Evelyn inhaled. The game had changed.

And she was done playing by their rules.