Chapter 93

The moment Evelyn finished speaking, she yanked out the chair across from Vanessa and Ethan and dropped into it with deliberate nonchalance.

One elbow propped on the table, chin resting in her palm, she tapped her fingers rhythmically against the wood—like an audience settling in for prime entertainment.

"Vanessa," she drawled, tilting her head, "that's not how you do it."

Her lips curled into a smirk. "Honestly, pressing your barely-there A-cups against Ethan isn't exactly persuasive. Ask him yourself if you don’t believe me."

A theatrical pause. "It’s like watching a haunted house actor trying too hard to be scary. Just... awkward."

Vanessa’s face flushed crimson as she practically launched herself off Ethan’s lap. "Evelyn, you vile witch! What the hell are you implying?!"

The truth was, she had done it on purpose.

Vanessa had come to Titan Capital Group under the pretense of inviting Ethan to dinner. But the second she reached the lobby, she spotted Evelyn stepping out of the elevator.

Her stomach had twisted instantly.

Ever since Evelyn joined Titan Capital, Vanessa hadn’t slept properly—paranoid they’d cross paths, that secrets would unravel.

And now here they were.

Evelyn, lounging like a queen, while Vanessa’s carefully constructed act crumbled.

The air between them crackled.

Ethan, caught in the middle, merely sighed and rubbed his temples.

The show, it seemed, was just beginning.

The memory still haunted her—that day when Vanessa heard Evelyn playing the cello in the music room. The very same piece Ethan had listened to during his coma after the accident.

Vanessa knew exactly what this meant.

It was Evelyn's desperate attempt to reclaim Ethan's heart.

Fear gripped Vanessa tighter than ever before. No one understood better than her that her entire relationship with Ethan had been built upon that haunting melody.

What if he discovered the truth? That it had been Evelyn playing all those years ago? The thought sent chills down her spine.

Paranoid that disaster might strike before the wedding, Vanessa had been visiting more frequently, watching Evelyn like a hawk.

Now, Evelyn met Vanessa's furious glare with icy calm. "Done pretending?" she asked, her voice sharp. "Careful with your words, Vanessa. Your sweet little act is crumbling."

Vanessa froze, her gaze flickering instinctively toward Ethan.

His expression darkened with suspicion.

Panic flared in her chest. Her eyes welled up instantly, and she clutched Ethan's sleeve with trembling fingers, her voice softening to a whisper. "Ethan… don’t listen to her. She’s lying."

But Ethan had already seen through her.

And this time, he wasn’t playing along.

Lately, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that Evelyn had transformed into someone unrecognizable. The way she brushed him off so casually unsettled him deeply.

That was precisely why he'd asked her to deliver those documents—though he never anticipated Vanessa tagging along.

The moment Vanessa stepped into his office, she draped herself over him like a second skin. Ethan had been buried in work, in no mood for her antics.

Yet, curiosity gnawed at him. What would Evelyn do if she saw them like this?

The old Evelyn would have erupted—he was certain of it.

But the explosion never came. Instead, he caught the flicker of amusement in Evelyn's gaze, as if she found the whole scene laughable.

A strange, hollow sensation settled in his chest.

It struck him then—Evelyn had truly moved on.

His mind reeled. How? The woman who'd written him letters from prison, who'd loved him with such fierce devotion—how could she just... stop?

Evelyn checked her phone, lips curving into a smile. "Don't mind me," she said, waving a hand. "By all means, continue."

Then she turned and walked away—no hesitation, no backward glance.

Ethan Caldwell's expression darkened. "Don't you dare walk away, Evelyn! Did I give you permission to leave?"

Evelyn halted mid-step and turned slowly, her gaze icy. "The documents are already in your hands. Or do you actually intend to put on a performance for me right here?"

"Who told you they were delivered?" Ethan snatched the files from the desk and flung them into the nearby trash bin without hesitation. "I decide when they're delivered. Evelyn, do you realize the consequences if these files go missing?"

Instead of arguing, Evelyn calmly retrieved her phone.

She activated the camera, panning across Ethan's office before zooming in on the discarded documents in the bin.

"They were delivered the moment I handed them to you," she said coolly, waving her phone. "And now I have proof."

With that, she turned on her heel, her stilettos clicking decisively against the marble floor as she strode toward the exit.

Ethan lunged forward, intent on stopping her—

But just then—