Chapter 88

"I told him not to contact you again, and I wasn’t exactly gentle about it."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk. "I’m not sure how he’ll take it."

Evelyn tossed her hair over her shoulder, her chin lifting. "Good. I’m not some ordinary woman he can just waltz back into. I’m the woman of Monarch Group’s president."

Sebastian’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "That’s right. You’re the only woman the Kingsley family spoils rotten."

His fingers brushed her shoulder affectionately before he reached into his pocket.

"Give me your phone," Evelyn demanded.

Sebastian arched a brow but handed it over without question. "Password’s your birthday."

"I know."

Her fingers flew across the screen, navigating straight to the contacts. Without hesitation, she blocked Nathan Blackwood’s number.

Sebastian chuckled. "Well done."

"We have to cut him off completely," Evelyn said coldly. "Otherwise, that bastard will keep pushing his luck."

The mere mention of her ex-husband darkened her expression.

Nathan hadn’t been himself lately.

Sleep eluded him. Food tasted like ash.

All because Evelyn had vanished from his life without a trace.

Worse, Reginald Blackwood had taken to calling him daily, demanding he find her. The old man was relentless—more persistent than a lovesick teenager.

"Mr. Blackwood, why don’t we file a missing persons report?"

Oliver Sinclair, his ever-loyal secretary, was grasping at straws. "You and Ms. Kingsley haven’t finalized the divorce. Legally, she’s still your wife. It’s perfectly reasonable to locate her."

Nathan shot him a withering glare. "That’s the dumbest idea you’ve had all week."

Oliver wilted. "Then what do you suggest? She’s completely off the grid. No phone, no friends. The only person who might know where she is—Sebastian Kingsley—won’t even take your calls."

Nathan’s jaw clenched.

Last night, he’d tried Sebastian’s number again—only to discover he’d been blocked.

The first time in his life anyone had dared.

The rejection had hit like a punch to the gut, leaving him adrift in a haze of disbelief.

Humiliation burned through him.

Abruptly, Nathan stood, snatching his suit jacket from the back of his chair.

"Get the car ready. We’re going to Monarch Grand Hotel."

Evelyn had thrown herself into work since returning from Fairhaven.

Theodore Winslow had handled the high-level meetings in her absence, but the moment she strode back into the office, his face lit up like the sun breaking through storm clouds.

"Occupancy rates are up twenty percent," he reported, sliding a file across her desk. "Not groundbreaking, but progress."

Evelyn skimmed the numbers.

She’d also revamped the hotel’s culinary offerings, launching a highly successful Food Week that drew crowds. The daily revenue from dining alone was staggering.

But Evelyn wasn’t satisfied.

Harrison Kingsley hadn’t raised a daughter who settled for good enough.

She would make Monarch Grand Hotels eclipse Blackwood Industries’ empire.

In love, she’d lost.

In business? She refused to let Nathan Blackwood win.

"Someone booked the presidential suite last night," Evelyn remarked idly, flipping through the financial reports. "The one that’s been vacant for two years."

Theodore moved behind her, fingers working expertly at the tension in her shoulders. "Guess who?"

"Julian Montgomery again?"

Theodore snorted. "Cassandra Blackwood."

Evelyn’s brows lifted. "What on earth does she need that much space for? Practicing acrobatics?"

"According to housekeeping, she threw a party with three friends. Then around midnight, two male models slipped in and stayed till dawn." Theodore’s voice dripped with disdain. "Thankfully, our soundproofing is top-tier. They left at five, probably to avoid being seen."

Evelyn wrinkled her nose. "Cassandra’s always been wild, but two escorts for three women? That’s just greedy."

"Once she checks out, have housekeeping sterilize the entire suite," Evelyn ordered. "Burn the linens. I won’t risk guests catching something."

Theodore’s phone buzzed. A supervisor’s name flashed on the screen.

He listened, expression darkening.

Evelyn straightened. "Problem?"

"Ms. Kingsley, Cassandra’s causing a scene in the lobby. She’s accusing our staff of theft and demanding answers immediately."