Chapter 343
Nathan Blackwood arrived at the steakhouse only to find Evelyn Carter and Theodore Winslow had already left.
His jaw clenched as he recalled the photos of Evelyn with that mysterious man. His expression was icy, but inside, he was barely holding himself together.
Amid the bustling restaurant, he felt nothing but humiliation—self-inflicted, yet unbearable.
And beneath it all, worry gnawed at him.
Evelyn was out at this hour, dining with some stranger in a place like this. Did she have no sense of danger?
His phone buzzed—an unknown number. He exhaled sharply before answering.
"Who is this?"
"Mr. Blackwood?" A robotic female voice responded.
"Yes."
"This is the Crestview West District Police Station. May I ask your relationship with Mr. Oliver Sinclair?"
Nathan's brows furrowed. "He's my assistant. What happened?"
"Please come to the station immediately. We'll explain when you arrive."
The night had taken a surreal turn.
His Lamborghini sped through the streets, his mind racing. He couldn't fathom how Oliver—the most harmless man he knew—had ended up in police custody.
As Nathan strode into the station, he collided with a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black leather jacket.
Recognition struck like lightning.
This was the same man from the photos—the one who had been cozying up to Evelyn.
Raymond Kingsley's sharp gaze locked onto him, assessing, dissecting.
A cold smirk curled on Raymond's lips. "Nathan Blackwood, I presume? Here to bail out your assistant?"
Nathan's eyes darkened with hostility. "What business is it of yours?"
Raymond chuckled. "Interesting question."
His smirk turned mocking. "Oliver Sinclair is here because of me. So, it's very much my business."
Nathan's composure cracked. "Is this revenge?"
"Revenge?"
"My assistant exposed your affair with Evelyn. Is this your petty retaliation?"
Blinded by fury, Nathan failed to realize the man before him wasn’t some random playboy—he was a seasoned detective.
Raymond, instead of taking offense, laughed. "It's a miracle you run a corporation with that level of intellect."
Nathan's teeth ground together. "You're a gigolo bold enough to strut around a police station, framing my assistant for exposing you. I'll admit, I'm impressed by your audacity."
Raymond blinked, stunned.
Gigolo?!
Did he really look like some kept man?
Raymond studied Nathan. So, this was the pretty boy who broke Evelyn's heart. Thick brows, striking eyes, a solid frame beneath that tailored suit. He looked like he could throw a punch.
Just then, two officers passed by and saluted Raymond.
"Captain Kingsley!"
Raymond nodded in acknowledgment.
Nathan froze, his breath hitching.
This man wasn’t a gigolo.
He was a cop.
Captain Kingsley.
A Kingsley.
His mind reeled.
Those sharp eyes, the strong jaw—they were eerily familiar.
"Raymond!"
A woman's voice cut through the tension, sending another shock through Nathan.
How many sons did Harrison Kingsley have?
Didn’t the old man worry about inheritance wars later?