Chapter 102

Evelyn didn't care about the divorce, but she would never allow herself to lose in business.

Stepping out of the hospital ward, she slid on her sunglasses, shielding the storm of emotions swirling in her eyes.

Her fingers flew across her phone screen as she dialed her fourth brother.

"Maxwell! Finally remembered your favorite brother exists?" His voice dripped with exaggerated hurt. "Do you know how much Sebastian laughed at me? Said you've been ignoring me. I nearly lost my mind—I can't let that smug bastard win!"

"You're all my brothers. Why are you acting like you need to compete for my attention?"

A brief pause. Then, softer, she added, "Maxwell... can you help me with something?"

"Help? Help?! Oh no, it's worse than I thought." His dramatic gasp crackled through the line. "You're saying please now? We're officially estranged. I'm booking the next flight home. Two more years away and you'll forget what my gorgeous face looks like!"

"Maxwell, cut the act!" Evelyn snapped, loud enough that passing nurses shot her startled glances.

A beautiful woman with a temper like a wildfire—what a sight.

"Ah, there's my little sister." He chuckled, satisfied. "Now, what do you need?"

Her voice dropped, dark and deliberate. "I'm releasing a video tomorrow. I need you to make sure it stays online—no matter who tries to take it down."

"How long?"

"Until it's everywhere."

"Easy. But..." His tone turned teasing, dangerously smooth. "Shouldn't you thank me properly?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to punch Nathan in the face. Just once. For old times' sake."

Evelyn's eye twitched.

"Go to hell."

The next morning at Blackwood Industries, Nathan sat at the head of the conference table, his presence icy and commanding.

Every executive sat straighter under his gaze.

"The Westridge project bids close in forty-eight hours. I want flawless coordination—no mistakes."

Mid-sentence, a muffled gasp cut through the room. A junior executive stared at his phone, paling, then elbowed his neighbor.

Like wildfire, the news spread. Within seconds, the entire room buzzed with hushed shock.

Nathan's glare could have frozen lava. "Am I interrupting your social hour?"

Then his own phone vibrated.

He tapped the screen—and his blood turned to ice.

Post-meeting, Nathan stormed into his office, his fury a living thing.

"I thought you deleted that video. Why is Cassandra's name trending again?"

Oliver wiped his brow. "It was reuploaded at dawn. PR didn’t have time to react. We’ve contacted the platform, but..."

"But?"

"It... won’t delete."

Nathan’s knuckles whitened around his pen. "You’re joking."

"I’ve never seen anything like it. The platform says their system is locked—they can’t remove it."

"Then buy the platform. I want Evelyn Carter’s name erased from every social media site in thirty minutes."

Oliver hesitated, then handed over his phone with a shaky hand. "Sir... look at this."

The top trending tag had just been overtaken by a new one:

#AngelSavingStaff

Nathan clicked the link—and his world tilted.

There, in crisp high definition, was Evelyn, kneeling beside a collapsed hotel employee, her face etched with fierce determination as she performed CPR.

The camera had captured every second.

Every. Damn. Second.

His chest tightened inexplicably.

His ex-wife was now the internet’s darling.

And there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.