Chapter 411

The sharp question sliced through the air like a blade, and every gaze in the room locked onto Julian Whitmore.

Though Evelyn Carter’s piercing stare sent a chill down his spine, Julian straightened his shoulders and answered smoothly, "It's an open secret. Isabella Laurent was torn between us and the Blackwood Hotel before, but you managed to sway her decision for the wedding. Now that we’ve lost the contract and her big day is approaching, it’s only logical she’d switch to them."

His reasoning was flawless.

Leaning back in her chair, Evelyn smirked. "You make a fair point, but you're overlooking one crucial detail. The Blackwoods haven’t signed a formal agreement with Isabella yet."

Gasps rippled through the room. "What? It’s been a week! How is that possible?"

Julian’s expression remained neutral, but his fingers tightened imperceptibly around his pen.

"If they had, the Blackwoods would’ve announced it to the world. Their silence tells me negotiations are still ongoing." Evelyn rose gracefully, spinning her leather chair with a flick of her wrist. "And I don’t back down until the final second. I’ve drafted a new proposal—one that might just catch Blackwood Industries off guard."

The team erupted in cheers. "That’s our Ms. Carter!"

Julian forced a smile, echoing their enthusiasm—though his eyes remained cold.

"But we’re the ones who botched the contract first," he pointed out carefully. "Isabella might refuse to even meet with us."

Evelyn’s lips curled into a confident smirk, her emerald eyes gleaming with challenge.

"Plans change. And even if the odds are against us, I’ll make sure we leave our mark."

Once the committee dispersed, only Evelyn and Theodore Winslow remained in the vast conference room.

Accepting the coffee Theodore handed her, Evelyn strode to the floor-to-ceiling window, savoring the panoramic view of Crestview as she took a slow sip.

"Ms. Carter, was that new proposal just bait?" Theodore asked, stepping beside her.

"Indeed," she murmured, her gaze sharpening. "And someone just took it."

Theodore’s eyes widened. "Who?"

"A suspicion, nothing more. But I’ll need proof." Evelyn’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Keep an eye on Julian after hours tonight. Report back immediately if he meets anyone suspicious."

The next morning, Eleanor Blackwood stirred awake in her bed, clutching her childhood teddy bear. Nathan Blackwood had dropped her off at Cliffside Manor last night.

With Nathan’s protection, Penelope Whitmore hadn’t dared complain to Leonard Blackwood. Cassandra Blackwood, who had instigated the whole mess, wisely kept quiet—knowing Penelope wouldn’t scold her, but Leonard certainly would.

Curling deeper into her blankets, Eleanor’s mind drifted back to last night. Her pulse quickened, her cheeks flushing as fragmented memories surfaced.

She had blacked out. The details were hazy—how she got home, what happened after—but one sensation burned vividly in her mind: the weight of Julian Montgomery’s lips against hers in the dark, his smoldering gaze stripping her soul bare.

With a shaky breath, Eleanor pushed herself up and moved to her desk.

She pulled out a sketchbook and pencil, closing her eyes briefly before letting her hand glide across the paper.

Minutes later, the striking portrait of a devilishly handsome man stared back at her—his roguish smirk captured perfectly.

Eleanor traced the lines of his jaw, her fingers lingering over his piercing eyes.

"Julian is… unfairly beautiful."

Little did she know, at that very moment, Julian’s crimson Ferrari roared up the driveway of Cliffside Manor.

"Who did you say is here?"

Penelope, strolling through the autumn gardens with Leonard, froze as the butler delivered the unexpected news.

"Mr. Julian Montgomery has arrived."