Chapter 230

Sebastian's warm eyes crinkled at the corners as he passed a folder to Evelyn.

"What's this?"

Evelyn took it skeptically, flipping through the pages. Her expression instantly brightened.

"Blackwood Industries secured the Westridge project, and Leonard handed it over to Penelope. The estimated value is in the billions, with massive profits—and plenty of underhanded dealings involved. It's the perfect chance to expand Monarch Group's influence in Crestview."

Sebastian leaned in, his voice low. "More importantly, Penelope is using this project to climb the corporate ladder and challenge Nathan. She may have been an actress before, but her ambitions are ruthless. With Leonard's favor, she's aiming for control of Blackwood Industries."

"Control of Blackwood Industries?" Evelyn scoffed, her eyes glinting with determination. "How delusional. Does she really think she can handle that kind of power?"

She traced a finger over the documents. "Grandfather built Blackwood Industries from the ground up. Even if Nathan isn't the ideal successor, Penelope has no right to take what isn't hers."

"Study this carefully," Sebastian advised. "Leonard and Penelope are meeting Mayor Harrington at 1 PM the day after tomorrow at the Blackwood golf course in Crestview's western suburbs. They’ll likely be pushing the Westridge project."

He wrapped an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders, his expression solemn. "Evelyn, this is your chance to settle the score for me."

She smirked, tilting her head against his shoulder. "I know exactly what you're doing. You’ve laid the groundwork so I can strike back. You’re treating me like a kid, handing me an easy win."

"Evelyn, don’t call me out like that!" He pinched her cheek playfully.

"Sebastian, I’m not a child anymore. I’m twenty-four, and I’ve already been married and divorced." She turned to face him seriously. "You’ve all sacrificed too much for me. Let me protect you now. Monarch Group is my responsibility."

Meanwhile, Victoria Sterling—humiliated by Nathan earlier that day—stormed into her penthouse and immediately dialed Penelope. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed into the phone.

"Serves you right!" Penelope snapped, her voice sharp with irritation. "I told you to stay away from Nathan while he’s still angry. But no, you just had to provoke him! Now that he’s rejected you, who else can you blame but yourself? Crying won’t fix anything!"

"But that witch Evelyn was at Cliffside Manor! Nathan brought her back like she still belongs there!" Victoria wailed. "She’s mocking me! How am I supposed to just take that?"

"You take it because you have to!" Penelope hissed. "I made everything clear to you. Why can’t you get it through your head? If you want to be Mrs. Blackwood, you need to be smart. All you do is throw tantrums and cry. You’re wasting all my efforts!"

Her voice turned icy. "Your goal is to be the wife of Blackwood Industries' CEO, not some lovesick fool pining after Nathan. If Evelyn Carter spat in your face, you’d smile and thank her if it got you closer to that title!"

"But—"

"Enough!" Penelope cut her off. "I’ll handle things from here. Right now, I’m securing my position on the board. Don’t disturb me again."

The line went dead.

Victoria collapsed onto her bed, gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Then, her phone rang again.

An unknown number.

She wiped her tears and answered sharply. "Who is this?"

"Adrienne, it’s been a while. How’s life in Crestview treating you?"

A man’s smooth, mocking voice sent a chill down her spine.

Victoria’s face drained of color.

Adrienne—the name she’d used during her wild days in Silvercrest.

After returning to Nathan, she’d erased all traces of her past—deleted social media, changed numbers, burned every bridge. Back then, she’d been reckless, careless.

She never expected him to find her.

"I’ve missed you, darling," the man purred. "Should I come to you, or will you meet me?"

His tone was light, but the threat was unmistakable.

Victoria’s silk blouse clung to her back, damp with cold sweat. Her throat tightened as if invisible hands were squeezing it.

"Where are you?" she forced out. "I’ll come to you."