Her hair was styled with meticulous care, accentuating the graceful length of her neck. Every movement she made radiated a quiet nobility, as if she belonged to another world entirely. 

But when Giselle finally caught a clear look at the woman’s face, a surge of hatred shot through her so intense she nearly ground her teeth to dust. 

Evangeline. 

Why did it have to be Evangeline? 

Giselle seethed, wanting to say something to Winston, but when she glanced over, she realized his gaze was fixed on Evangeline as well, a flicker of complicated emotion passing through his eyes. 

And it wasn’t just Winston. Every man in the room seemed unable to look away from Evangeline. 

Even Mr. Wellington–who only moments ago had been leering at Giselle and pressuring her to drink–now looked utterly bewitched, his eyes glued to Evangeline as if he’d been put under a spell. Distracted, he tilted his glass without noticing, red wine spilling out onto the white tablecloth. 

Giselle’s anger flared even hotter. 

Not only had Evangeline’s appearance tonight stolen every bit of her spotlight, but she was standing at Glenn’s side, as if she belonged there. 

Had she forgotten she was married to Soren? 

The thought made Giselle grit her teeth in frustration. She turned to Hazel, her mother, unable to hold back any longer. “Mom, look at her–she’s already-” 

But before she could finish, Hazel hushed her with a subtle gesture and glided forward, gently righting Mr. Wellington’s glass with a warm smile. “Mr. Wellington, that’s my eldest daughter, Evangeline. What do you think?” 

Mr. Wellington licked his lips, clearly not ready to tear his gaze away. “I had no idea Serenity City had women this beautiful,” he drawled, then turned to Winston, feigning irritation. “Mr. Whitmore, you’ve been holding out on me. How could you not introduce me to such a lovely daughter?” 

Winston was still recovering from the shock, his mind reeling. For a moment, he’d almost failed to recognize his own daughter. 

Chapter 89 

In his memory, Evangeline had always been quiet and reserved, shrinking into the background at every gathering. This was the first time in ages–perhaps ever–that he’d seen her dressed so boldly, stepping into the light instead of hiding in the shadows. For a fleeting instant, he was reminded of her mother before she passed 

away. 

Hazel didn’t give him time to respond. She laughed lightly, “That’s our mistake. If you’d like, Mr. Wellington, I can introduce you two.” 

Mr. Wellington’s broad face creased with a delighted grin. “I’d like that very much.” Across the room, Evangeline had barely stepped inside before she felt the weight of countless stares. Her nerves prickled, and she instinctively crossed her arms, suddenly worried she’d made some mistake with her appearance. 

Glenn seemed to sense her discomfort. He leaned in, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hold your head high. You look stunning. There’s nothing wrong at all.” 

His quiet confidence eased her nerves, and she managed a small, grateful smile. 

No one noticed the man standing on the sweeping staircase at the far end of the hall, dressed in a pristine white tailored suit. He leaned lazily against the banister, the picture of effortless elegance, surveying the party below with a cool detachment. 

When his eyes landed on Evangeline, he pushed his gold–rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, his handsome features sharpening as he narrowed his eyes in appraisal. “So that’s Evangeline?” he murmured. 

A young woman in a silk evening gown glided past behind him, following his gaze. She cast Evangeline a disdainful look. “Yes, that’s her. No matter how she dresses up, she’ll never lose that air of desperation.” 

Finn Lockridge, standing beside her, was unbothered by the venom in her voice. He was used to it. His sister, Arabella, always prided herself on her transparency–she despised schemers, and everyone in Serenity City knew the story of how Evangeline’s mother had manipulated the Fawkes family. The Lockridges and the Fawkeses were longtime rivals, and Arabella didn’t hide her disdain for them–or for Evangeline. 

Finn shrugged, playing along. He gave a low whistle. “She looks meek enough, but for 

you to dislike her this much, and for Victor to be so troubled by her–she must have some tricks up her sleeve.” 

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