It was impossible for Evangeline to ignore the scene unfolding on stage between Soren and Poppy. Still, she refused to let it distract her. She moved gracefully through the crowd, handing out business cards, pitching the strengths of UME’s latest Al robot, and outlining the promising returns that future partnerships could bring.
Some guests, though clearly looking down on her, put on a polite façade, feigning interest as they took her card–only to pass it off to their assistants the moment she turned away. Others didn’t bother hiding their disdain; they ripped her card in half right in front of her and tossed the pieces into the nearest trash bin. A few went so far as to pretend not to see her at all, ducking away when she approached.
Evangeline knew exactly what they were doing: demonstrating where their loyalties lay–firmly with Fawkes Enterprises.
UME had started to make a name for itself, but in Serenity City, the Fawkes family’s grip was ironclad. No matter how much better UME’s technology or reception might be, no one here dared to cross the Fawkeses.
Still, getting her business card into their hands was a victory in itself–the first step. Once UME had a real voice in Serenity City, these people would start to reconsider.
After making sure she’d spoken to everyone on her list, Evangeline tucked her cards away, her mouth dry from the endless talking. She was about to flag down a server for a glass of water when someone shoved her hard from behind.
She barely caught herself before stumbling. Spinning around, she found herself face–to–face with Giselle Whitmore, who wore a smug, satisfied smirk.
Evangeline had spotted the Whitmores earlier but had purposely avoided them, not wanting to invite trouble. Apparently, Giselle had different ideas.
“If I were you, I’d have stayed home and spared myself the embarrassment,” Giselle sneered. “Must sting, watching your own husband so cozy with another woman in front of everyone.”
She gave a pointed glance toward the stage.
Evangeline managed a cool smile. “If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut and save myself the humiliation. At least I’ve had what some people only dream of. Maybe that’s why the bitterness.”
“You-!” Giselle’s face flushed an ugly shade of green, but she quickly swallowed her anger. She wasn’t here to argue. Lately, Evangeline had become
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unrecognizable–relentless, almost feral in her aggression. Giselle couldn’t compete with that, but she knew someone who could.
“Dad wants to see you.” She jerked her chin toward the far side of the room.
Evangeline followed her gaze and spotted Winston Whitmore, glass in hand, chatting with a group of men.
“What does he want?” she asked.
“How should I know?” Giselle shrugged. “Go ask him yourself. I did hear it has something to do with your mother, though.”
Evangeline’s expression hardened at the mention of her mother. She didn’t hesitate, making her way over.
Winston had just finished his toast when he saw her. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a scowl.
“Useless,” he hissed. “Couldn’t even keep a man. Your mother gave her life to secure your place in the Fawkes family, and this is how you repay her–by squandering it.””
Evangeline looked at this stranger she was supposed to call father and let out a quiet laugh. “Well, maybe if I were only my mother’s daughter, I wouldn’t be so useless.”
Winston didn’t catch her meaning at first. When it clicked, he bristled, face red, hand rising as if to strike her.
She didn’t move, just looked at him calmly. In the end, he let his hand drop. No matter how strained her marriage, she was still a Fawkes, and this was their territory.
“Find a time and divorce Soren,” he said flatly.
Evangeline blinked, caught off guard. For years, Winston had schemed, terrified that Soren would dump her and ruin his ties to the Fawkes family. Every time he called, it was to urge her to win Soren back by any means. This was the first time he’d told her to end the marriage herself.
She stared, unsure what to make of this sudden reversal, when Winston spoke again. “Your mother’s been gone a long time. As your father, I want you to have a good husband and a stable life. I know someone suitable–he knows your situation, doesn’t mind that you’ve been married before. You should meet him.”
Evangeline couldn’t help but laugh. So that was it–her value to the Fawkes family was gone, and now Winston just wanted to squeeze a little more out of her, pawn her off one last time.
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“No need,” she said dryly. “I already have a new boyfriend.”
Winston’s eyes narrowed. “Glenn? He’s not an option. Giselle’s interested in him. She gave up her shot at marrying into the Fawkes family so you could take her place. You’re not stealing this from her.”
Evangeline smiled. “And what if I do?”
Winston’s face twisted in anger. “Whitmore Industries was your mother’s creation. I kept her name on the company for your sake. If you insist on this, I’ll change the name tomorrow–make it Wendy and Giselle’s.”
“Do whatever you want,” Evangeline replied evenly. “After Mom died, Whitmore Industries became just another asset in your pocket. You fired her loyal team, listened to every whisper from your new circle, and let the company rot from the inside. I’ve been prepared for the Whitmore family’s collapse for years. The name doesn’t matter. Next time you try to threaten me, use your head. Don’t let yourself get stupid just because you’re surrounded by idiots.”
Winston’s face went purple with rage.
“The matriarch has arrived!” someone called out.
The music faded and the lights grew brighter. At the entrance, Old Mrs. Fawkes–her hair a dignified silver, dressed in a deep red brocade gown–entered the hall with Clyde and Helena on either side, a gentle smile on her face as she stepped into the birthday celebration.
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