Chapter 260

The morning sun cast golden streaks across Evelyn Sinclair's luxurious penthouse as she lounged on her velvet chaise, sipping her jasmine tea. Her phone buzzed incessantly—another tabloid article about Nathan Blackwood’s latest scandal. She smirked, scrolling through the salacious details.

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

Evelyn’s fingers hovered over the screen. The grainy photo showed Nathan, his dark hair tousled, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something wilder. Beside him, a woman in a sleek red dress clung to his arm, her face obscured by shadows.

Interesting.

She tapped the screen, zooming in. The woman’s posture was familiar—too familiar.

Victoria Hayes.

Nathan’s secretary. His supposed loyal assistant.

Evelyn’s lips curled. Oh, this was delicious.

She set her tea aside and reached for her laptop, pulling up her private files. If Victoria thought she could slink into Nathan’s life unnoticed, she was sorely mistaken. Evelyn had eyes everywhere.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, not bothering to look up.

Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant, stepped inside, holding a sleek black folder. "You asked for the Blackwood Industries report, Ms. Sinclair."

Evelyn waved a hand. "Leave it. And Lillian?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Preston Whitmore I need to see him. Immediately."

Lillian hesitated. "He’s in a meeting with Donovan Sharpe—"

"Now, Lillian."

The assistant nodded and hurried out.

Evelyn leaned back, tapping her nails against the armrest. Nathan thought he could play games? Fine. She’d play better.

Her phone buzzed again—a message from an unknown number.

"You should see what else she’s hiding."

Attached was another photo. Victoria, but not with Nathan this time.

With Daniel Prescott.

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

Oh, this was so much better than she’d imagined.

Nathan Blackwood’s Office – 11:47 AM

Nathan massaged his temples, the headache from last night’s indiscretion pounding behind his eyes. He shouldn’t have let Victoria drag him out. Shouldn’t have let her get so close.

But damn if she wasn’t persuasive.

His phone rang—Julian, his ever-dramatic brother.

"What?" Nathan snapped.

"Someone leaked photos of you and Victoria," Julian said, voice tight. "Evelyn’s already seen them."

Nathan’s stomach dropped.

Of course she had.

He exhaled sharply. "Damage control. Now."

Julian scoffed. "Too late for that. She’s already called a meeting with Preston."

Nathan’s jaw clenched. Preston Whitmore—Evelyn’s favorite director. The man who could spin any scandal into a blockbuster.

This wasn’t just about humiliation.

This was war.

Seraphina Delacroix’s Dressing Room – 2:15 PM

Seraphina Delacroix scrolled through the gossip blogs, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen.

"Nathan Blackwood’s Secret Affair? Insider Claims He’s Two-Timing Evelyn Sinclair!"

She smirked.

Sebastian Hart, her insufferable ex, had been whining about losing a role to Nathan for weeks. Now? Now he’d eat his words.

She dialed Adrian Cross, her current distraction.

"Did you see the news?" she purred.

Adrian’s chuckle was dark. "Oh, darling. I made the news."

Seraphina stilled. "What?"

"Let’s just say… Victoria Hayes isn’t the only one with secrets."

The line went dead.

Seraphina’s blood ran cold.

What the hell had Adrian done?

Even now, Grayson seemed unable to process the situation. His wild gaze darted between Nathan and Evelyn, his lips trembling with unspoken protests.

Just as he opened his mouth, a booming voice cut through the tension.

"Grayson Hart! You here?"

All heads turned toward the pool entrance, where four hulking figures stood. Their faces were vaguely recognizable—Lila’s brothers.

Grayson’s mind was still reeling. He squinted at them, irritation flashing across his face. "Not now! Whatever it is, deal with it later!"

"Oh, we’ll deal with it alright," the tallest brother snarled, cracking his knuckles. "You think you can mess with our sister and walk away?"

Lila’s brothers.

Oh, this was bad.

Lila, Grayson’s recent fling, came from a family with… questionable connections. Four overprotective brothers who didn’t care about high-society politics. When they’d heard how Grayson had strung Lila along, then discarded her like yesterday’s gossip, they’d stormed in for revenge.

And revenge, they intended to deliver.

Nathan’s instincts flared. He recognized the dangerous glint in their eyes. Without drawing attention, he nudged Evelyn behind him and signaled a staff member. Better to have security on standby.

But before help could arrive—

CRACK.

The first punch sent Grayson crashing into a champagne tower. Glass shattered. Women screamed. Chaos erupted.

Daniel, Lucas, Marcus, and Nathan exchanged glances. Sure, Grayson had it coming—but they couldn’t just watch him get pummeled. They lunged into the fray, pulling the brothers off, but not before Grayson’s face turned into a swollen, purple mess.

Humiliation burned hotter than the pain. Tears pricked his eyes.

This night would haunt him forever.

Security finally swarmed in, dragging the brothers back as they hurled curses. "You think your money makes you untouchable? You’re dead, Hart!"

Police were called. The Harts and the Carters arrived, turning the scene into a spectacle. The pool party? Over. The gossip? Just beginning.

By dawn, high society would have a new scandal to feast on.

And Grayson?

He’d just dug his own grave.

Final Reckoning

The crisp night air carried the scent of expensive perfumes as the group stood outside the pulsating nightclub, freshly changed and waiting for their rides.

Vivian Moore's grip on Gwendolyn Brooks' wrist was surprisingly gentle as she led her away, leaving the others exchanging bewildered glances.

"They really do look like sisters," Lucas Thornton murmured, watching their retreating figures.

"Vivian seems... oddly pleased," Beatrice Holloway observed, adjusting her emerald earrings. "She even mentioned bringing Gwendolyn to my engagement party next week."

Vivian Grant's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Do you think... Grayson would dare show his face there after tonight?"

Marcus Prescott snorted. "I'd pay good money to see that train wreck."

Daniel Wright shook his head, the neon lights casting shadows across his sharp features. "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Grayson just signed his own downfall."

Their conversation was drowned out by a sudden eruption of excited chatter nearby.

"It's her! The Truth Seeker! The Gossip Empress of high society!"

"Unbelievable. Last time she appeared at the Reed wedding, the whole thing got canceled. Now this? A simple party turns into a scandal worthy of prime-time drama."

"No wonder she's got a cult following. The woman knows everything!"

"I'm officially obsessed. Tonight's twists were better than any thriller novel. This'll be my dinner party story for months."

"Someone find out which event she's hitting next. I need front-row seats to the chaos."

"Rumor has it she never misses a wedding... especially not the upcoming Blackwood-Holloway one..."

Nathan Blackwood's inner circle exchanged loaded glances as Evelyn Sinclair descended the steps beside him, their gazes flickering toward Beatrice.

The silence stretched just a beat too long.

"What?" Evelyn finally asked, noticing their peculiar expressions.

Vivian Grant—never one for subtlety—blurted out, "Evelyn, darling, was this your handiwork tonight?"

Evelyn blinked in genuine surprise.

Marcus chuckled darkly. "Better watch your back. If Grayson ever sobers up enough to connect the dots..."

The realization dawned on Evelyn, and she rolled her eyes at their teasing. The streetlights caught the amusement dancing in her hazel eyes as the group dissolved into laughter, the night's drama already weaving itself into legend.

Yet, she truly hadn’t orchestrated any chaos in this matter. She’d merely stumbled upon the information ahead of time and was now content to sit back and watch the drama unfold.

Evelyn looked genuinely wronged. "This really has nothing to do with me."

.

Vivian and Marcus exchanged amused glances, their skepticism evident. They reiterated their hope that she would attend Marcus’s father’s nth wedding in the future.

Daniel cleared his throat, signaling them to dial back the chatter. They were oblivious to the fact that Beatrice might take offense to these metaphysical insinuations.

Still, if it was a matter of fate, then Daniel was genuinely grateful to Evelyn.

Of course, he dismissed it as mere coincidence. Evelyn had always thrived on gossip, drawn to the spectacle of scandal.

Nathan, too, reacted. His gaze flickered toward Beatrice.

Beatrice, ever blunt, remarked, "If this does have something to do with you, Vivian ought to reward you handsomely. But my engagement party is about to start. I should probably stay on guard."

A brief, awkward silence settled over them. They’d assumed Beatrice was truly bothered.

"My fiancé has a rather... colorful past. I don’t particularly care, so long as it doesn’t erupt into a scandal that jeopardizes our families’ business dealings. So, our little Angel of Justice, let’s keep things discreet, shall we?"

Her tone rose playfully as she spoke, making it clear she was joking.

There had been a sense of righteous vindication in all the previous gossip. But between her and her fiancé, Caleb, no such justice existed. Even if Evelyn uncovered something scandalous, Beatrice had no need for her to intervene.

She simply didn’t care. She’d agreed to this marriage alliance because her family had promised her the freedom to pursue her passions. Having reaped the benefits of her family’s wealth without contributing to the business, she saw this as a fair trade—a marriage in exchange for an unhindered pursuit of her dreams.

Romance had never interested her anyway.

At Beatrice’s rare attempt at humor, the group laughed.

Only Lucas’s expression grew increasingly unreadable.

The cars arrived one by one to collect them.

Soon, only Lucas, Evelyn, and Nathan remained.

Lucas watched as their car pulled up. On impulse, he took a step forward, his eyes locking onto Evelyn’s. He seemed on the verge of speaking, hesitation flickering across his face.

"Is there something you need?" Nathan asked.

When Evelyn turned to look at him, Lucas snapped back to reality, panic flashing in his eyes.

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes as his jaw tightened, yet he remained silent.

Evelyn arched a delicate brow, her expression unreadable. "Don’t tell me you’re actually concerned about the engagement party too?" Her voice dripped with mockery. "Afraid I’ll ruin Caleb and Beatrice’s picture-perfect future?"

Lucas’s face twisted with self-deprecation, the irony of the situation not lost on him. He felt like a drowning man clutching at straws—desperate enough to start believing in miracles.

Just as he opened his mouth to deny it, Evelyn cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Or maybe you’re counting on me to show up and play my part perfectly—to turn that engagement party into a glorious disaster?"

The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy. Lucas exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Evelyn tilted her head, studying him with cold amusement. "Well?" she challenged. "Which is it?"

Lucas met her gaze, his own dark with conflict. He had no answer—only the sinking realization that he was standing at the edge of a cliff, and Grayson had already started digging the grave beneath them both.