Chapter 149

Master?!

Gasps echoed through the room. Victoria Sterling's jaw dropped so wide she nearly choked on her own saliva.

This couldn't be real. Evelyn Carter was only twenty-seven, for heaven's sake! Rosalind Walker was four years older than Victoria and had dominated the fashion world for a decade - Paris Fashion Week regular, international award winner. Meanwhile, Evelyn was just some small-town nobody. How in the world could she be Rosalind's master? This had to be a sick joke!

"Master? You make me sound ancient," Evelyn huffed, crossing her arms with an exaggerated pout. "A lady's age is a state of mind - and mine stopped at eighteen!"

Rosalind clung to Evelyn's waist like a koala. "I only say it because you're everything to me! Why didn't you warn me you were coming? I look like a complete mess!"

Evelyn flicked Rosalind's forehead. "Wasn't planning to come until my afternoon meeting got canceled. Consider yourself lucky I bothered to show up at all."

"Oh, so I'm just your backup plan now? I see how little I mean to you!" Rosalind fake-sobbed into Evelyn's shoulder.

"Cheeky brat! Since when did you learn to talk back to your master?" Evelyn pinched Rosalind's cheeks, their playful banter making the audience's heads spin.

Nathan Blackwood felt the oxygen leave his lungs.

That custom suit Evelyn had tailored for him suddenly made perfect sense. No wonder the craftsmanship had impressed even his veteran tailor. His ex-wife wasn't just skilled with a needle - she was a damn design virtuoso.

He'd severely underestimated her. Again.

To think Evelyn had been the mentor of an internationally acclaimed designer this whole time. This was an honor few in the country could claim.

A bitter taste flooded Nathan's mouth. Three years of marriage, and Evelyn had hidden this entire identity from him. What else had she kept secret? Had their life together meant nothing to her?

"Ms. Walker!" Victoria stepped forward with outstretched hand, flashing her most dazzling pageant smile. "I'm Nathan Blackwood's fiancée, Victoria Sterl-"

Rosalind recoiled as if avoiding radioactive waste, dragging Evelyn back with her. "I certainly didn't invite any 'Victoria Sterling' to my private reception. Wherever you got that invitation, it wasn't from me. Security!"

Victoria turned ghostly pale, fingers clutching Nathan's sleeve like a lifeline.

"Ms. Walker," Nathan interjected smoothly, bowing his head slightly. "Our apologies for the intrusion. My fiancée admires your work tremendously. We meant no disrespect - merely sought the opportunity to appreciate your genius in person."

Evelyn's nails dug crescent moons into her palms.

Nathan Blackwood - the man who'd never bowed to anyone - was groveling to stay at some fashion event. For Victoria.

How ironic. The only person who could make the mighty Nathan Blackwood humble himself was his precious Victoria. Evelyn had once foolishly believed she could earn that devotion through love and loyalty.

Victoria clung to Nathan's arm, the picture of innocence while internally gloating.

"Mr. Blackwood," Rosalind arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "The fashion world rarely sees titans like you at our little gatherings. But since you've asked so nicely..." She waved a dismissive hand. "Stay if you must."