Chapter 148

The grand dining hall of the Blackwood estate was filled with the clinking of silverware and hushed conversations. Eleanor Blackwood turned her sharp gaze toward Julian Whitmore.

"How did your date with Jennifer Winslow go?" she inquired, her voice laced with expectation.

Julian kept his head down, his fingers tightening around his fork.

"Your grandmother asked you a question, Julian!" Beatrice snapped, shooting him a glare.

"Weren’t you just telling us how well your messages were going?"

"Everything was fine until some random little girl showed up," Julian muttered, his expression darkening. "She grabbed my shirt and started screaming that I was her daddy. It was humiliating. Jennifer misunderstood and blocked me. I haven’t been able to reach her since."

Gregory and Beatrice exchanged grim looks.

Their plans hinged on Julian marrying into the Winslow fortune to secure their standing among the elite.

After all, Dominic would never share a cent of his wealth with them, no matter how vast it was.

And now, their carefully laid scheme had been ruined by a four-year-old child.

"How could something so ridiculous happen?" Beatrice hissed. "Do you think the child did it on purpose?"

Julian shook his head. "She was lost and scared. She probably just mistook me for someone else."

The girl’s face flashed in his mind again—round cheeks, bright eyes—and a strange sense of familiarity tugged at him.

"Actually… she looked familiar," he mused.

Then it hit him.

"She looked like Evelyn Thorne!" he blurted. "The more I think about it, the more alike they are!"

Gregory choked on his wine, shooting Julian a warning glare.

Mentioning Evelyn Thorne in front of Dominic was forbidden.

Julian paled.

"Sorry, Uncle Dominic. I didn’t mean to, but that kid really did look like Evelyn—"

"Enough!" Gregory barked. "Finish your meal. We’re going to the Winslows later to fix this mess!"

Julian fell silent, stabbing at his food.

Meanwhile, in a cozy home across town, Evelyn sat at the dinner table with her family.

The children barely touched their food before rushing off to their room.

"They already ate at school," Clara said with a soft smile. "I’m just glad Henry finally found a school he likes."

Evelyn waited until the door was closed before lowering her voice.

"It’s a special needs school. There are no other students—just him and two teachers."

Clara sighed. "Classmates don’t matter. What matters is that he gets an education. If he can learn enough to take care of himself one day, that’s all I want."

"Don’t worry too much, Mom," Evelyn reassured her. "His health is what’s important."

Clara nodded, though her eyes remained heavy.

In the children’s room, Henry and Lily huddled by the window.

"Daddy’s a jerk," Lily huffed, her little cheeks puffing in anger. "I don’t want a jerk for a dad, Henry."

Henry’s fists clenched. "Jerk dads don’t deserve us."

"Exactly!" Lily crossed her arms. "I’d rather have no dad at all! We should teach him a lesson!"

Henry’s eyes gleamed with determination. "I’ll make him pay."

By 10 p.m., Evelyn was restless.

She had showered, changed, and now paced her room, her mind racing.

She didn’t want to see Dominic, but she had no choice.

Frederick Dawson had reached out to former Thornfield Industries employees—they were all willing to return.

She needed Thornfield Tower back.

If Dominic refused to sell, she’d have to find another location.

Her finger hovered over his contact, but she couldn’t bring herself to press call.

Why was she so nervous? She hadn’t been the one who wronged him.

Determined, she grabbed a bottle of wine from downstairs.

Halfway through, her cheeks flushed, her mind sharp despite the alcohol.

Finally, she dialed.

The call connected after ten tense seconds.