Chapter 34

The grand entrance of Ravenswood Manor was bathed in golden light as Evelyn Thorne stepped inside, her heart pounding with uncertainty.

Mrs. Wilkins, the ever-efficient housekeeper, guided her to the plush sofa in the sitting room with an air of urgency.

"Master Dominic has prepared a gift for you, Madam," she announced, gesturing toward an elegant white box resting on the marble coffee table.

Evelyn's fingers hesitated before lifting the lid, revealing a breathtaking ivory gown that shimmered under the chandelier's glow.

"Are you certain this is for me?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Indeed, Madam. There's an important dinner tonight, and you're expected to accompany Master Dominic. And look—there are shoes as well!"

Mrs. Wilkins opened a second box, unveiling a pair of exquisite stilettos that looked like they belonged in a designer showcase.

Evelyn picked one up, studying its delicate craftsmanship with wary curiosity.

"Why would he take me? I don’t know his circle. Wouldn’t he be concerned I’d embarrass him?"

The housekeeper offered a knowing smile. "I’m sure he has his reasons. The past is behind you, Madam. Perhaps it’s time to embrace the present."

Evelyn met her gaze, skepticism lingering. "Do you truly believe he’s moved on? We still don’t know what he really wants from me tonight."

A pause. Then Mrs. Wilkins ventured carefully, "Madam… Was the child you lost truly Mr. Julian’s? I never took you for that kind of woman."

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the gown’s delicate fabric. "That chapter is closed. Let’s not revisit it."

Without another word, she stood. "I’ll go try this on."

Mrs. Wilkins nodded. "Of course."

That evening, Evelyn arrived at Mooncrest Manor, the grand estate transformed into a dazzling spectacle of wealth and prestige.

Dressed in the ivory gown, she stepped into the banquet hall like a vision—ethereal, untouchable.

The crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light over her, making her appear as if she had wandered straight out of a fairy tale.

Whispers erupted the moment she entered.

"Who is that? She’s mesmerizing! Have we met before?"

"That’s Evelyn Thorne, the eldest daughter of Thornfield Industries. You know—the company on the verge of collapse?"

"Ah, that family. What’s she doing here? And that dress—is that Shanel haute couture? Since when could she afford such luxury?"

Evelyn ignored the murmurs, scanning the room for Dominic.

Her feet ached in the towering heels, so she slipped into an empty chair, only to be immediately accosted by two impeccably dressed women.

"Miss Thorne, is that gown authentic Shanel?" one asked, her tone dripping with faux curiosity.

Evelyn glanced down at the fabric.

Had Dominic really given her haute couture?

"Is there a problem?" she countered coolly.

The woman smirked. "With your family’s financial state, I doubt you could afford the real thing. Wearing a knockoff to an event like this is… embarrassing, don’t you think?"

Evelyn arched a brow. "If it were fake, the embarrassment would be mine. Why does it concern you?"

The women exchanged mocking glances before bursting into laughter.

"Tell us, Miss Thorne—how did you get in? Surely you weren’t invited?"

Evelyn’s lips curved into a cold smile. "I walked in on my own two feet."

The crowd’s attention shifted to her shoes—rare, limited-edition Armeses, unmistakably genuine.

A hushed realization spread.

"Did you find yourself a sugar daddy, Miss Thorne?" someone sneered.

Evelyn leaned back, unfazed. "Absolutely. How else would someone like me mingle with elites like you?"

The room fell silent.

Then, with a smirk, she added, "And if he’s generous enough to dress me like this… just imagine how powerful he must be."