Chapter 178

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. She sipped her latte, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly—until a particular headline caught her eye.

"Nathan Blackwood Spotted Leaving Hotel with Mystery Woman—Who Is She?"

Evelyn nearly choked on her coffee. Her fingers tightened around the phone as she zoomed in on the grainy paparazzi shot. The woman’s face was obscured, but the way Nathan’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist sent a sharp pang through Evelyn’s chest.

"Oh, this is rich," she muttered, tossing her phone onto the couch.

But then—she heard it.

A whisper of thought, faint but unmistakable, drifting into her mind like smoke.

"God, I hope Evelyn doesn’t see those photos. She’ll skin me alive."

Evelyn froze. That voice—deep, smooth, laced with guilt—was unmistakably Nathan’s.

Her lips curled into a slow smirk. Oh, this was new.

She closed her eyes, focusing. The mental static around her sharpened into clarity, and suddenly, she was drowning in Nathan’s thoughts.

"It was just one drink. Nothing happened. But if Evelyn finds out—"

Evelyn’s smirk widened. Found out already, darling.

Then, another voice cut in—sharp, feminine, dripping with venom.

"Finally. A scandal to ruin him."

Evelyn’s eyes snapped open. That wasn’t Nathan. That was—

Victoria Hayes.

Her assistant.

Evelyn’s blood ran cold. Victoria had been nothing but professional, but now? Her thoughts were a viper’s nest of resentment and schemes.

"Once the press digs deeper, they’ll find out about the embezzlement. And then Nathan Blackwood will be ."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Embezzlement?

She needed to act fast.

Grabbing her phone, she dialed Serena Whitmore, her agent. "Cancel all my meetings today. Something’s come up."

Serena sighed. "Let me guess. Nathan-related?"

Evelyn’s smile was razor-thin. "Oh, you have no idea."

As she strode toward the door, Nathan’s frantic thoughts followed her.

"Why the hell did I let her talk me into that meeting? Evelyn’s going to—"

Evelyn cut the connection with a flick of her will, but not before sending one deliberate thought back.

"You’re damn right I am."

The door slammed behind her.

That very night, Isabelle Laurent took action. She posted a series of photos—Vivienne Monroe undergoing a thorough medical examination, each test result meticulously documented to prove she had never touched drugs.

With undeniable evidence now public, no one dared to slander Vivienne again.

The moment the medical report was released, Isabelle swiftly issued a statement: We will be filing a defamation lawsuit against Adriana and Gabriel Ramirez.

The announcement sent shockwaves through the media.

Inspired by Vivienne’s case, other wronged artists who had been falsely accused stepped forward to defend their reputations.

But Adriana and Gabriel’s shamelessness knew no bounds. They immediately played the victim card, lamenting their lack of education and sophistication. We didn’t know any better, they cried, claiming ignorance as their defense.

They insisted they had only acted out of concern—that Vivienne’s strange behavior had led them to suspect the worst. We were just trying to protect her, they pleaded, as if their malicious lies had been born from love.

The Blackwood family was disgusted. Some people truly deserve to burn for this.

Isabelle arrived armed with receipts. She tore apart their flimsy excuses, exposing the real reason behind their smear campaign—Vivienne had demanded her stolen assets back, and they had retaliated with lies.

To ensure no future manipulation, Isabelle meticulously documented every instance of Adriana and Gabriel’s mistreatment toward Vivienne over the years.

No more guilt trips. No more emotional blackmail.

The internet erupted.

I’ve never seen a mother betray her own child like this. Is this some twisted nephew obsession?

Gabriel is vile, but Adriana? She’s a special kind of evil. Sacrificing her daughter for her brother and nephew? Does she even realize she’s ruining Vivienne’s career?

Some women are just born traitors. If Vivienne were a son, Adriana would be clawing anyone who looked at him wrong.

Adriana had spent years believing that, as a widow with a daughter, survival meant clinging to men—even when Vivienne became the family’s sole provider. No logic could penetrate her delusion.

She was selfish to the core. Offending Vivienne carried no consequences, but losing Gabriel’s favor meant abandonment. So she chose to betray her own flesh and blood.

Pathetic.

The court of public opinion had already ruled. Now, it was time for justice.

They hadn’t left Vivienne’s house yet, and Adriana pulled Victor and Victor’s son, Mason Grant, aside to devise a plan.

Seeing the netizens talking about him, Mason immediately shook off Adriana’s hand and snapped, "This is all your fault! If you had any control over your daughter, we wouldn’t be in this mess. If I get dragged into this scandal, I swear—"

Victor glared at the legal notice in his hand, his expression dark. "Listen carefully. If this goes to court, you’ll take full responsibility. You’ll say it was all your idea, that we had no part in it. If you don’t, consider yourself cut off from this family. My son won’t acknowledge you as his aunt either. Understood?"

Adriana’s face paled. "You’re abandoning me? After everything I’ve done for you—"

"Exactly," Victor spat. "Jail time, fines—whatever comes, it’s on you. This mess is because of your daughter. You deal with it. I refuse to believe she’d actually let you rot in prison."

Adriana was desperate, her mind racing for a way out. Her last hope was calling Vivienne. A few tears, a dramatic plea—surely her daughter would soften and bail them out.

But when she dialed, it wasn’t Vivienne who answered. It was Isabelle. "Ms. Monroe is unavailable due to legal proceedings. I’m handling all her affairs. There’s no need for further contact. Let the law decide the outcome."

Adriana’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t reach anyone. No allies, no sympathy.

It hit her then—Victor and Mason had never truly been on her side. And now, she’d lost the one person who might have cared.

Her sobs, her threats—even her claim she’d kill herself—fell on deaf ears.

Vivienne was gone. The betrayal had cut too deep.

Meanwhile, Evelyn, comfortably settled in the Blackwood estate, watched everything unfold with quiet satisfaction. Well done, Isabelle. Behind every victim was a villain who’d dug their own grave. Emotional blackmail? Pathetic. But she wasn’t done yet. Victor and Mason needed to face consequences too. Expose them all.

With Nathan, Julian, and Sophia around, the Blackwood manor had become a hub of gossip. Evelyn scrolled through the latest updates, sharing the juiciest bits with the others.

The scandal had exploded, dominating headlines for a week before finally dying down. The public was exhausted, and gossip blogs had likely hit their yearly quotas early.

In the end, justice was served. Adriana and Victor were convicted, and Mason lost everything—even the properties they hadn’t managed to sell were seized.

A heavy price, but at least Vivienne was finally free of the parasites. From now on, she’d answer to no one.

The court-mandated alimony remained unchanged.

Case closed.

Yet, even after the verdict was announced, snide remarks from netizens continued to swirl, accusing Vivienne of being too harsh on her own mother.

Naturally, Evelyn saw those comments. As expected, the moment things took a serious turn, self-righteous critics emerged from the shadows. After all, they weren’t the ones suffering—why should they care about another’s pain? All they wanted was to perch on their moral high ground and lecture others. Well, I’ll report every single one of them.

Members of the Blackwood family discreetly reported the offending accounts, their fingers flying across their screens in quiet efficiency.

Vivienne’s reaction, however, didn’t disappoint Evelyn. She ignored the voices of those who resented her success. Aside from occasionally checking in on Claire, she calmly regained her composure, waiting for Isabelle’s next move.

Adriana never got to see Vivienne before being imprisoned. According to Isabelle, Adriana had wept like a lost soul, murmuring over and over, "I was wrong… I was wrong…"

But it was far too late for regrets.

Once the storm had passed, the entertainment industry had undeniably become cleaner.

Of course, this also meant stepping on the toes of many powerful figures. After all, this crackdown was cutting off their cash flow—essentially slashing their golden geese.

So, some began sharpening their knives, ready to teach Julian and Evelyn a lesson, despite the Blackwood Group’s backing.

But before they could even lift a finger, Julian made an unexpected announcement—a temporary withdrawal. He was stepping back from the domestic entertainment scene to venture into international production, working behind the scenes.

This wasn’t a battlefield they could easily infiltrate. So, aside from Julian’s heartbroken fans bidding him farewell, those itching for a fight could only redirect their frustration toward Evelyn, plotting to make her their sole target.

After weeks of silence, with rumors swirling about job handovers and industry reshuffles, everyone expected Isabelle to capitalize on Justice Upholder’s momentum and propel Evelyn into A-list stardom.

But when Vivienne finally resumed work, there was no sign of Evelyn. It was as if she had merely taken a casual stroll through the entertainment world before vanishing.

The public was baffled. Was this just a hobby for her?

Only the sharp-eyed noticed that the original owner of the agency had been replaced. Julian had fully withdrawn, leaving only Evelyn behind. Had the artist turned into a business owner?

Speculations ran wild. Fans even pushed "Where is Evelyn Sinclair?" to the top of the trending list. Left with no choice, Evelyn finally responded: "Still here. Just taking a break."

Inside the agency, Isabelle rolled her eyes in exasperation. She was itching to schedule work—offers were piling up—but a certain someone was lounging around like a pampered housecat.

Typical.

"Let it go. Sometimes stepping back is the wisest move. Justice Upholder has drawn too much attention—it's becoming a liability. Once the media frenzy dies down, I'll find new projects for you." Isabelle Laurent could only offer what little comfort she could.

Evelyn Sinclair nodded obediently. What else could she do? She had already gained far more than she deserved.

Even now, Evelyn still couldn't quite believe it as she watched the two men standing before the office desk beside her.

Nathan Blackwood and Julian Blackwood were finalizing the paperwork.

Julian shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I've withdrawn part of the funds for myself. The rest, which would be too troublesome to move, I'm leaving as a gift for Evelyn."

Nathan nodded in agreement. "Quirk Group will cover one-third of the investment, but it won't exceed Evelyn's share. From now on, this agency belongs solely to her."

Isabelle's lips curled into a satisfied smile. This effectively announced to the world that Quirk Group was backing them. Her earlier frustration melted away as she turned to Evelyn with a grateful expression. "Thank you. Truly."

Nathan glanced at Evelyn, amused by her delayed reaction. "Well? Are you happy?"

Evelyn nodded eagerly, though a twinge of guilt lingered. "Maybe I should use the money I left with you for my portion of the investment..."

Truthfully, she was a little confused. Why is Nathan investing under my name? Don’t I have my own money? Am I broke?

Nathan's expression darkened. Pouring all of Evelyn's funds into the agency was risky. Worse, he didn’t want her thinking she had enough financial independence to leave him. The mere idea was unacceptable.

"The money you invested hasn’t been transferred yet, so it can’t be used," he said smoothly.

Evelyn still felt uneasy. So, if we divorce... does this all still belong to me?

Nathan nearly choked on his own breath.

Julian, meanwhile, pretended he hadn’t heard a thing.

Nathan quickly added, "Besides, as your husband, what’s mine is yours—but what’s yours will always remain yours. In short, all future profits from this agency will go straight to you."

Evelyn didn’t fully grasp the intricacies of investments, but at those words, her eyes sparkled. Guilt? Who cares about guilt? Losing money is the real tragedy. Hah! Now that I have Vivienne and Lillian making money for me, what do I have to worry about? I can just lounge around, and when I get bored, I’ll jump back into the scene and enjoy the drama.

Nathan’s gaze softened. Seeing her happy was all that mattered to him.

Julian, however, found the whole situation increasingly surreal. The only woman who could ever make Nathan act like this is Evelyn.

Then, remembering the couple’s evening plans, he couldn’t resist asking, "So, are you two really going to—"

Julian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned casually against the marble countertop. "How about a little get-together tonight?" His voice carried that familiar teasing lilt as he shot Nathan a meaningful look.

Nathan barely glanced up from his documents, his fingers stilling on the keyboard for just a second before resuming typing. "Whatever," he murmured, the word dripping with his characteristic indifference.

But Evelyn, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, perked up immediately. "A party?" Her emerald eyes lit up with excitement as she stepped fully into the study, the scent of her vanilla perfume preceding her. "Count me in!"

Julian's grin widened as he exchanged a knowing glance with Nathan. "Looks like we've got ourselves a party planner," he teased, nudging Evelyn playfully.

Nathan finally looked up, his stormy gray eyes locking onto Evelyn's animated face. A barely perceptible sigh escaped his lips, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Fine," he conceded, though his tone suggested anything but reluctance. "But nothing extravagant."

Evelyn clapped her hands together, already mentally cataloging decorations and refreshments. "Don't worry," she assured Nathan with a wink, "I'll keep it classy." The way she emphasized the word made Julian chuckle and Nathan roll his eyes - though neither could hide their amusement.

As Evelyn dashed off to make preparations, Julian turned to his brother with raised eyebrows. "You're getting soft, big brother," he teased.

Nathan's response was to throw a paperweight at him, which Julian dodged with practiced ease, laughing as he retreated from the study. Alone again, Nathan stared at the doorway where Evelyn had stood, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips before he forcibly schooled his features back into their usual stern expression. But the documents before him suddenly seemed far less interesting than whatever Evelyn might be planning for their impromptu gathering.