Chapter 337

No one believed Evelyn at that moment. They all assumed she was just causing unnecessary drama.

Yet as the saying goes, you never truly understand someone until you walk in their shoes. Suddenly, Margaret found herself drowning in the same suffocating emotions Evelyn had described.

The commotion grew louder, drawing even the hostess, Olivia, away from her guests.

It was her birthday celebration, after all. Olivia approached Margaret with concern, asking if everything was alright and offering assistance.

Margaret knew she couldn’t continue this confrontation—not here, not at someone else’s joyous occasion.

She shot Richard a blistering glare before turning her attention to Evelyn Sinclair, who was still clutching her stinging cheek.

"This isn’t over, Richard," Margaret hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Her gaze flickered toward the exit just in time to see Evelyn slipping away. Without hesitation, Margaret chased after her, desperation clawing at her chest.

The moment Margaret disappeared, Evelyn Sinclair—still sniffling dramatically—rushed toward Richard, her voice dripping with false innocence.

"Richard! Margaret is absolutely vicious! She doesn’t behave like a proper lady at all!"

Margaret's words resonated deeply with Richard.

Evelyn, the cherished only daughter, had lived a sheltered life. Her stubborn personality constantly clashed with his own.

"Creating such a public spectacle—she clearly doesn't know how to manage situations properly," Richard muttered, irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior.

"Did you see the rage in her eyes when she stormed out? She won’t just walk away from this. She’ll pin everything on our Vanessa!" Evelyn Sinclair cried, her voice trembling with panic.

Abruptly, she buried her face in her hands, tears spilling over once more.

"How can I ever show my face in society after being humiliated like this? What will become of my boutique?"

The mention of her boutique gave Richard pause.

Now that Margaret knew of Evelyn’s existence, she wouldn’t let this go quietly.

If he didn’t sever ties with Evelyn completely, Horizon Enterprises could face serious repercussions.

With a measured glance, Richard made his decision. "Evelyn, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while."

Evelyn’s eyes widened in shock. "Richard… what are you saying?"

"Your flower shop is just a short ride away. Take a cab home." His voice was clipped, devoid of warmth. "I have matters to attend to. And be cautious—Margaret might retaliate by targeting your shop."

Without another word, Richard Hayes turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Evelyn Sinclair standing there, her nails digging into her palms.

Two decades had slipped by, yet Richard remained exactly the same.

Back then, she had been his personal assistant, shadowing his every move. What had started as professionalism had slowly simmered into something more.

Their encounters had been sporadic, but it had been enough for Margaret to catch wind of it.

The moment Richard learned his wife was returning, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d fired Evelyn on the spot.

Humiliated and furious, she had taken the money and left—but the bitterness had festered. It had driven her to make that irreversible decision.

Now, rage coiled tight in her chest. She snatched her phone and dialed Vanessa Hart’s number.

"Vanessa, we have a crisis." Her voice was sharp with urgency. "Margaret caused a scene today. The truth about your parentage is about to explode—soon, everyone will know you're the product of an affair."

Vanessa’s blood ran cold.

Just days ago, she had been forced to endure an abortion under Ethan Caldwell’s pressure, only to be dragged away by Eleanor to—

The grand estate had always been her sanctuary. Not even Ethan Caldwell would risk making a scene within these walls.

After days of restless anxiety, her delicate condition had finally stabilized. But the moment she heard whispers of her secret threatening to spill, Evelyn Carter shot upright, bare feet hitting the cold marble floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" Alexander Whitmore's voice cracked like a whip across the sunlit bedroom. "Get back in bed this instant."

His commanding tone made her flinch, but desperation clawed at her throat. She couldn't let this happen. Not now. Not when she'd sacrificed so much to keep this one fragile truth hidden.

The morning light streaming through the bay windows painted golden stripes across Alexander's furious expression as he blocked the doorway. His usually impeccable shirt was rumpled from sleepless nights spent at her bedside, the dark circles under his eyes mirroring her own exhaustion.

Evelyn's fingers twisted in the silk sheets. "You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly." He stepped closer, the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with the sterile hospital smell that still clung to her skin. "One wrong move and we lose everything."

Outside, a car door slammed. Voices carried from the courtyard below. The walls of Whitmore Manor, once her impenetrable fortress, suddenly felt paper-thin.