Chapter 240

Richard Hayes stared at his phone screen in disbelief.

What kind of violin bow costs fifty million?

This has to be a scam.

There’s no way it’s worth that much.

Yet he didn’t reject the request outright. Instead, he hesitated before typing back:

[Evelyn, are you absolutely certain about this? Isn’t this bow used?]

Her reply came swiftly.

[You don’t get it. Used bows are better—they’re already broken in.]

Richard scoffed under his breath.

Bullshit. She thinks I don’t know anything about instruments and is trying to play me.

Before he could respond, another message popped up.

[You’re not backing out because of the price, are you?]

His fingers froze.

She had seen right through him.

For days, Evelyn had barely acknowledged him. Now that she was finally engaging, he couldn’t afford to ruin this chance to win her favor.

His fingers flew across the screen as he dialed his financial advisor. "Purchase this immediately from my personal account."

The advisor clicked the link, hesitation lacing his voice. "Mr. Hayes, are you certain this isn't a scam? Fraudsters these days are sophisticated—they often target high-net-worth individuals."

Richard's patience was razor-thin. Fifty million wasn't pocket change, and every second wasted risked losing what Evelyn desired.

"This is for my daughter. Just complete the transaction. No more questions."

A tense silence followed before the advisor spoke again. "Sir, your personal account doesn't have sufficient funds for this amount..."

"Then use Vanessa's account."

This year's dividends had just been deposited into Vanessa's account. Knowing his stepdaughter, she likely hadn't even checked the balance yet.

Minutes later, Evelyn's phone chimed. The notification flashed—$50,000,000.00 received. A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips.

Almost instantly, Richard's message appeared:

[Evelyn, the bow is yours. Come home. Dinner is waiting.]

The screen darkened, reflecting her triumphant gaze.

Nathan waited impatiently, his fingers tapping against his phone screen. When Evelyn still didn’t respond, he sent another message: [Evelyn?]

A red exclamation mark flashed mockingly on his screen.

Evelyn had taken the money and blocked him without hesitation.

Nathan’s temper flared. He kicked the nearest chair, sending it skidding across the floor with a loud scrape.

Meanwhile, Alexander returned home late, well past ten, after wrapping up a business dinner with a client.

The moment he stepped inside, the scent of whiskey clung to him as he pulled Evelyn into his arms.

Before she could protest, his lips found the sensitive curve of her neck, his touch rough with intoxication.

Evelyn shivered, her body instinctively curling inward.

That night, Alexander was relentless.

Drunk and unrestrained, he was more demanding than usual, his hands possessive, his movements primal.

He showed no sign of fatigue, as if fueled by some unquenchable fire.

By the time he finally stilled, Evelyn’s legs trembled uncontrollably.

Exhaustion dragged her into a deep sleep, and she didn’t wake until well past nine the next morning.

Evelyn was late.

Alexander had already left at dawn, and Evelyn cursed under her breath as she kicked off the tangled sheets.

"That man always slips out without waking me."

Though Titan Capital Group had flexible policies, punctuality still affected bonuses.

She wouldn’t put it past Alexander to sabotage her attendance just to pinch pennies.

"Unbelievable."

The moment her feet touched the floor, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Days of reckless passion had left her muscles weak, her legs trembling like leaves in the wind.

Yet Alexander? He strode out every morning like a man reborn, vitality practically radiating off him.

It made no sense.

He was the one doing all the work. He should be the exhausted one.

But no—somehow, she was the one left wrecked.

After a quick shower and a fresh outfit, Evelyn rushed to the office. The moment she stepped in, the president’s office staff turned—

The air grew thick with tension as they closed in around her.

Vanessa Hart stood at the center, her lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her cold, calculating eyes.

Evelyn Carter felt the weight of their stares—some curious, some mocking, others outright hostile.

She lifted her chin, refusing to let them see her unease.

Nathan Reeves shifted uncomfortably beside her, his usually composed demeanor slipping for just a second.

"You really thought you could just walk back in here like nothing happened?" Vanessa drawled, twirling a strand of her perfectly styled hair.

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.

Alexander Whitmore’s absence was a gaping wound in the room, his protective presence sorely missed.

Grace Caldwell let out a soft, derisive laugh from the corner, her arms crossed.

"Honestly, Evelyn," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness, "you always did have a flair for the dramatic."

The crowd murmured, their whispers sharp as knives.

Evelyn exhaled slowly, forcing her voice steady.

"If you have something to say, say it to my face."

Vanessa’s smirk widened.

"Oh, we will."

The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Evelyn’s pulse quickened, but she didn’t back down.

Not this time.

Not ever again.