Chapter 187

Victoria's manicured nails dug into Evelyn's wrist. "What way?!"

Glancing over her shoulder, Victoria withdrew two crystal vials from her clutch. The liquid inside shimmered under the chandelier light.

Cassandra frowned. "What is that?"

"A little... persuasion." Victoria's lips curled. "Strong enough to make a man forget his own name. Perfect for a social climber like Evelyn who can't keep her hands off married men."

Cassandra's gasp echoed. Victoria clamped a hand over her mouth. "Quiet, you idiot!"

"You—you want to drug Evelyn? At Grandfather's gala?!"

Leaning in, Victoria's whisper dripped venom. "Imagine the scandal when the entire Blackwood family finds Evelyn in bed with Sebastian Kingsley tonight. That pretty reputation of hers? Gone. Nathan will never look at her again after such humiliation. And Julian Montgomery?" She smirked. "Do you really think he'd want used goods?"

Cassandra's throat tightened. She'd always tormented Evelyn openly—never like this. If they got caught...

"Relax." Victoria flicked her hair. "With this crowd? No one will suspect us. You handle Sebastian's drink. I'll take care of Evelyn. Unless..." She arched a brow. "You enjoy watching Julian fawn over her?"

The barb struck true. Cassandra's cheeks burned with shame.

"Eliminate the competition, or stay pathetic forever. Your choice."

Victoria had learned from the best—Penelope Whitmore's manipulations were legendary.

Cassandra gave a stiff nod.

Onstage, Evelyn's soprano voice soared through Puccini's aria. The guests sat spellbound.

Julian's champagne flute hung forgotten in his grip. His gaze clung to Evelyn like a drowning man to driftwood.

Nathan's jaw tightened. The woman singing bore his ex-wife's face, yet felt like a stranger. His tea turned to acid in his throat.

"Such passion," Sebastian murmured, watching his sister. "Almost like a love letter."

Nathan's fingers twitched.

A sudden commotion rippled through the ballroom.

Evelyn's voice faltered.

Her breath seized.

There, parting the crowd like Moses at the Red Sea—Harrison Kingsley in a tailored Tom Ford tuxedo, his security detail clearing a path to the VIP section.

Gasps erupted.

"Is that the Monarch Group chairman?!"

"Harrison Kingsley at a Blackwood event? Hell must've frozen over!"

Evelyn's pulse hammered.

Why was her father here?

Who'd invited the lion into the den?