Chapter 24

The icy glare Evelyn Carter shot Vanessa Hart could have frozen lava. "This is my family home. Why wouldn't I be here?"

Vanessa’s smirk died the second she spotted the silk scarf clutched in Evelyn’s fingers.

She recognized it instantly—Ethan Caldwell’s signature navy-blue Burberry. The same one Evelyn had guarded like a sacred relic for a decade.

"Pathetic." Vanessa’s manicured nails dug into her palms. "You think returning that will make him forgive you? That he’d ever take you back?"

Evelyn exhaled through her nose. No games today. "Your imagination is exhausting. I’m not here for him."

"Then you’ve seen the headlines." Vanessa’s lips curled.

Ah. Those.

The "leaked" photos of Evelyn and Ethan’s "secret reunion" at dawn—splashed across every gossip site by noon.

What Vanessa didn’t know? The paparazzi ambush was her own doing. A staged crisis to manipulate Ethan into comforting her when the "scandal" broke.

Too bad Evelyn had already burned the evidence.

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, but Vanessa Hart felt no warmth.

She had never intended for things to go this far.

Her carefully orchestrated plan had been simple - stage a compromising situation with Ethan Caldwell, leak a few suggestive photos to the press, and pressure the Caldwell family into switching their engagement to her instead of Evelyn.

Vanessa had expected Ethan to come running home, begging his mother Eleanor to change his fiancée.

She was certain Titan Capital Group would prioritize their reputation over everything else. A quiet engagement swap would be far better than a public scandal that could tank their stock prices.

But fate had other plans.

The paparazzi she'd tipped off weren't gossip columnists - they were investigative journalists from a major news network.

Vanessa's blood ran cold when she stepped out of the hotel this morning.

Dozens of cameras flashed in her face. Microphones were shoved toward her. Reporters shouted questions about stealing her sister's fiancé.

By noon, the story had exploded across every news outlet.

#CorporateHeirAffair was trending nationwide.

Vanessa's phone hadn't stopped buzzing with notifications - most of them vicious comments from outraged netizens.

The morning stock reports showed Titan Capital's shares had plummeted 15% at opening bell.

What should have been a controlled leak had turned into a wildfire.

Vanessa paced her bedroom, nails digging into her palms.

She'd miscalculated. Badly.

The Caldwell family would be furious. Evelyn would never forgive her. And Alexander Whitmore...

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of Evelyn's powerful husband.

The bedroom door burst open.

Vanessa spun around to face her stepmother Margaret, whose face was pale with fury.

"Get downstairs," Margaret hissed. "Now. The Caldwells are here."

Vanessa's stomach dropped.

The reckoning had come sooner than she expected.

Taking a shaky breath, she smoothed her dress and headed toward the storm waiting downstairs at Hawthorne Estate.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Not at all.

Vanessa's hands trembled with barely contained rage.

She cursed her own recklessness, her mind racing to figure out who had tipped off the media and turned her carefully laid plans into a public spectacle.

"Evelyn, you saw it, didn't you? Ethan shielding me from the cameras like that—he only has eyes for me." Vanessa forced a smirk, her voice dripping with venom as she locked eyes with Evelyn. "Do you honestly think groveling now would make him spare you a second glance?"

Evelyn exhaled sharply, done with this charade.

"If digging through trash for men is your hobby, by all means, keep Ethan. He's all yours." She brushed past Vanessa, ready to walk away.

Not a flicker of emotion crossed Evelyn's face at the mention of Ethan.

Vanessa gaped, disbelief twisting her features. "You're seriously giving him up? Then why bother with that scarf? Weren't you planning to use it to manipulate his nostalgia?"

Evelyn glanced at the silk scarf in her hand, then shrugged. "I was just looking for a trash can." With a careless flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the bin beside them.

Vanessa's mouth fell open—

"EVELYN!" A thunderous roar echoed from the staircase. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR SISTER? WHY IS SHE ON THE FLOOR?"

The accusation hung in the air like a guillotine's blade.

Evelyn rushed down the grand staircase, her heart pounding as she spotted Vanessa sprawled on the marble floor, her face twisted in exaggerated distress.

"Did you shove your sister?" Margaret demanded, her voice sharp as she helped Vanessa up, shooting Evelyn a glare that could freeze fire. "Honestly, Evelyn, must you stir up chaos the moment you step foot in this house? Are you determined to send me to an early grave?"

Margaret fussed over Vanessa, checking for injuries with trembling hands, only exhaling when she confirmed her precious daughter was unharmed.

Evelyn, however, felt nothing but icy detachment. That fateful night had shattered any lingering illusions about her family. "I didn’t lay a finger on her," she said coolly. "But by all means, ask her yourself."

Margaret turned to Vanessa, who immediately put on a pitiful expression. "It was an accident, Mother. I tripped."

Margaret’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Vanessa, darling, you don’t have to protect her. If she hurt you, just say so."

Vanessa shook her head, casting a sidelong glance at Evelyn. "Really, it was my fault. Evelyn, don’t be upset with Mother. She just misunderstood."

A bitter smirk curled Evelyn’s lips as she turned to leave. Then, pausing at the doorway, she tossed over her shoulder, "Tell me, Mother—did you catch the headlines this morning?"

The air thickened with tension.

Margaret’s face paled.

Vanessa’s fingers twitched.

And Evelyn?

She walked away without another word, leaving the question hanging like a guillotine.