Chapter 5

The senior executives froze, their faces turning crimson as they were caught gossiping about their new boss.

"That's outrageous! Ms. Carter is the only legitimate heir of the Kingsley family! What were they thinking?" Theodore Winslow, Sebastian's secretary, fumed from the passenger seat.

"Legitimacy doesn't matter anymore. We're not living in the Dark Ages! Why are you so worked up, Theo?"

Evelyn narrowed her bright eyes and pinched Theodore's cheek playfully. His face flushed instantly.

"Evelyn, you're about to become the CEO of Monarch Group. Could you at least act the part? Stop harassing Theo." Sebastian sighed, though his expression remained fond.

"What's the big deal? No one bats an eye when a male boss flirts with his female secretary!"

Evelyn clicked her tongue and smirked. "Besides, he should be honored I even bothered."

Sebastian shook his head, watching his sister with amusement.

The Kingsley siblings stepped into the hotel, flanked by nervous executives.

Vincent Prescott, the hotel's vice president, gestured toward the VIP elevator, but Evelyn cut him off. "I want to inspect the restaurant first."

She wasted no time, diving straight into her assessment the moment they entered.

Vincent led them to the restaurant, his hands trembling slightly.

Sebastian remained composed, letting his sister take charge, though his presence was impossible to ignore.

The restaurant was empty before the lunch rush, but staff were already prepping dishes at the counter.

Evelyn's sharp gaze swept over the food before landing on the live seafood display.

Without hesitation, she rolled up her sleeve, plunged her hand into the aquarium, and plucked out a dead shrimp from the swarm.

"Explain."

"It—it's not dead!" Vincent stammered.

"If it's not dead, then eat it." Evelyn's red lips curled into a dangerous smile.

"Ms. Kingsley, with so many shrimp, a few dead ones are inevitable—"

"It's normal for shrimp to die. But is it normal for a guest to eat a dead one and get food poisoning?"

Her smile vanished. "Also, there are exactly 356 shrimp in this tank. I counted five dead and at least thirty half-dead. How would you feel paying $100 per person for this?"

She leaned in, her voice icy. "Check every ingredient in the seafood section immediately and fire the supplier. If I see another dead shrimp tomorrow, you’ll be eating them in front of me."

Vincent paled, his legs wobbling. The other executives exchanged horrified glances.

Only Sebastian and Theodore knew Evelyn had a photographic memory. As a child, she'd even helped solve a major criminal case with it. Counting shrimp was nothing.

Next, they moved to the guest rooms. Evelyn took a white handkerchief from Theodore and wiped the wall and picture frame.

"Redo the cleaning. There's still dust."

The executives exchanged uneasy looks.

"I know what you're thinking—that I'm being unreasonable, nitpicking over nothing."

Evelyn's tone turned deadly serious. "This hotel has stood for a century. It's the overlooked details that ruin reputations. If the star-rating committee inspects us, these 'small' issues will cost us our rating."

She glanced at Theodore, who immediately ordered, "Open this room."

The housekeeping manager hesitated. Previous inspections only involved sample rooms.

But Evelyn didn’t follow rules.

She strode inside, checked the bathroom, then sat on the bed—and her expression darkened.

Without a word, she ended the inspection and headed to the general manager’s office with Sebastian.

"So? What’s the verdict?" Sebastian asked, amused.

"An absolute disaster!"

Evelyn slumped onto the sofa, sighing. "Is Harrison testing me or mocking me? This place is a disgrace! I can’t believe it’s part of Monarch Group!"

"Evelyn, Grandfather built this hotel. It was the foundation of our empire. It’s not a disaster—it’s our family’s legacy. But with Monarch’s expansion and the hotel industry’s decline, we neglected it."

Sebastian sighed. "I’m sorry. You’ll have to clean up this mess."

Then Evelyn spotted the grand piano in the corner and gasped.

"I had it moved here. I remember you used to play when you were upset."

Sebastian smiled. "You’ll be too busy for horseback riding, but maybe the piano will help."

"Thanks, Seb. But I haven’t played in years."

Her throat tightened. An old wound burned in her chest.

"Why not?" Sebastian frowned.

"During my time with Doctors Without Borders, I injured my hand rescuing wounded soldiers. Torn ligament in my pinky. Can’t manage an octave anymore."

She forced a calm tone, but Sebastian’s heart ached. He took her hand.

"Was it because of Nathan?"

"Partly."

Just hearing his name made her chest constrict. But she forced a smile. "I got hurt for world peace. Making the family proud, right?"

Five years ago, on the battlefields of Eldermere, she’d reunited with Nathan—the man she’d loved.

She was a field doctor. He was a peacekeeper.

She’d nearly lost her hand dragging his wounded body to safety.

Back then, she’d called it honor. Now, her numb pinky was just a reminder of heartbreak.

But she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t regret loving the wrong man.

Theodore knocked and entered urgently.

"Ms. Evelyn, I checked the bedding suppliers as you asked. It’s Luxe Furnishings—and Mr. Prescott handles them."

"Luxe Furnishings?"

Evelyn crossed her legs, eyes glinting dangerously. "Audit the hotel’s finances for the past two years. Then fire Luxe and find a new supplier."

"That’s drastic," Sebastian remarked.

"Luxe is owned by Nathan’s sweetheart’s brother."

"Ah. Personal vendetta?" Sebastian and Theodore said in unison.

"No! Their bedding is cheap garbage. I’m just upholding standards!"

She scowled, remembering the lumpy mattress. No wonder the reviews were terrible.

"Theodore added, "Mr. Sebastian asked me to monitor the Blackwoods. Reginald Blackwood was hospitalized for a stroke—at Kingsley Medical Center."

"Grandfather’s in the hospital?!" Evelyn shot to her feet.

Then Sebastian’s phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and smirked.

"Evelyn. It’s your ex-husband."