The sound of the café door shutting behind her echoed in Evelyn's ears long after she walked away. Nicholas's words haunted her like a ghost.
> "I'll find out the truth, Evelyn. One way or another."
She gripped her bag tightly as she turned down the block, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement. The city buzzed with late morning traffic, but it all blurred in her mind.
Someone knew.
Someone was trying to ruin everything she had built.
And Nicholas… he was too close.
How did it all unravel so fast?
She should have kept her distance. She should have avoided Nicholas from the beginning. But she had needed access to his connections, his name, and his empire. She just never thought he'd be so… persistent.
Back at her apartment, Evelyn shut the door and leaned against it, her breath uneven. Her phone vibrated in her purse.
Another message.
She pulled it out with trembling fingers.
> If you don't want the truth exposed, stay away from Nicholas Sullivan.
No name. No number. Just a threat.
Her vision blurred with rage. She had been careful. So damn careful. Who was doing this?
She opened her contacts and dialed Clara.
"Pick up, pick up," she muttered.
Clara answered on the third ring, her voice laced with concern. "Eve? You sound like you've just run a marathon."
"I need you to track a number," Evelyn said. "Someone's threatening me. They know about the baby."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
"Wait—what? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Evelyn walked into her bedroom and closed the door. "They sent Nicholas a message too. Told him to ask about the baby."
"Oh, hell."
"I know."
"Okay," Clara said, quickly shifting into problem-solving mode. "Send me the number. I'll try to trace it. Meanwhile, you need to lay low. Stay away from Nicholas for now."
Evelyn clenched her jaw. "I can't just back off. If he keeps digging…"
"Then give him something else to chase," Clara suggested. "Distract him."
"How?"
"You're the queen of reinvention. Find something. Lie, flirt, cry—whatever it takes. Just make sure the truth stays buried."
---
Later that night, Evelyn paced her living room. Clara's words echoed in her mind.
Give him something else to chase.
It was risky. But Clara was right. Nicholas was too curious. If she didn't give him a new direction, he'd keep digging until he unearthed everything.
Evelyn sat down and stared at her reflection in the dark window. Her own eyes stared back — determined, but tired. She had survived death. She had clawed her way back into this world with a mission.
But even now, it felt like she was constantly fighting to breathe.
Her fingers brushed against the locket she always wore — the only thing she had left from her child. No one knew what it meant. No one could know.
A knock on the door made her jump.
She wasn't expecting anyone.
Quietly, she stood and peeked through the peephole.
Nicholas.
Of course it's him.
She debated pretending she wasn't home, but he knocked again — this time softer, almost hesitant.
Evelyn opened the door only slightly. "What do you want?"
"I owe you an apology," he said. "Can I come in?"
"No."
He nodded. "Okay. Then I'll say it here."
She crossed her arms. "You have thirty seconds."
Nicholas hesitated. Then said, "I overstepped. The message shook me, and I handled it wrong. I shouldn't have pushed you."
She said nothing.
"I don't know who sent it. But if someone's trying to threaten you, I want to help."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because I don't like seeing you scared."
She scoffed. "I'm not scared."
"Then angry."
She didn't respond.
"I don't know what's going on, Evelyn. But you don't have to face it alone."
She closed the door in his face.
But not before she saw something in his eyes — something unfamiliar.
Genuine concern.
And that scared her more than any threat.
---
The next day, Evelyn arrived at the Sullivan Enterprises building for a scheduled meeting with one of the directors. The place buzzed with activity, polished and sharp. Assistants walked with purpose, and voices murmured behind glass office doors.
She was greeted by Leila, Nicholas's assistant — a sharp-eyed woman who always seemed to know more than she let on.
"Miss Huntley, Mr. Sullivan will see you now."
Evelyn raised a brow. "I thought I was meeting with Director Lin."
"He's been reassigned," Leila said with a smooth smile. "Mr. Sullivan thought it best to handle things personally."
Of course he did.
Evelyn followed her through the corridors and into Nicholas's office. The space was as immaculate as he was — all black leather, steel, and cold elegance.
Nicholas stood near the window, his back to her. The skyline framed him like a painting.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" she said.
He turned slowly. "When it comes to you? No."
Evelyn rolled her eyes. "I came here for business, Nicholas. Not another game."
He gestured to the chair. "Then let's talk business."
She sat, legs crossed, posture perfect. "This partnership between your company and Huntley Holdings was supposed to be handled by the board. You stepping in makes it look… personal."
"Isn't it?"
She met his gaze coldly. "No."
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "Tell me one thing, Evelyn."
She didn't reply.
"What are you afraid I'll find?"
Her mask faltered for only a second.
Then she smiled — sweet, practiced, lethal. "The only thing you'll find, Mr. Sullivan, is that I'm smarter than you think."
"I already know you're smart."
She stood. "Then stop underestimating me."
Nicholas watched her walk away, but didn't stop her this time.
Which only made her more nervous.
---
That night, Evelyn met Clara at a quiet lounge bar downtown. Clara slid into the booth beside her, holding a printout.
"You were right. The number that texted you used a proxy server, but I traced the last bounce point. Guess where it came from?"
Evelyn sipped her drink. "Tell me."
Clara slid the paper across the table. "Damon Pierce's company server."
Evelyn's hand froze.
Damon.
The man who once claimed to love her — who twisted that love into control and manipulation.
She had escaped him. Barely. But if he was back…
"I knew it," Evelyn whispered. "He's the only one obsessed enough to pull this kind of stunt."
Clara frowned. "You think he's working alone?"
Evelyn shook her head. "No. He's too much of a coward to do it all himself. But he's watching. Waiting."
"Then what now?"
Evelyn closed her eyes briefly.
"We hit first."
---
Two days later, Evelyn arrived at a charity gala — one she knew Damon would attend. She wore blood-red satin, slit high at the leg, with diamond earrings that shimmered like fire.
She looked like a woman untouched by fear.
But beneath the surface, her every nerve was on edge.
She spotted Damon by the bar. Still as arrogant as ever. His eyes lit up the moment he saw her.
"Evelyn," he said, smile widening. "You're still the most beautiful woman in any room."
"And you're still the most dangerous liar," she replied, lifting her glass.
He chuckled. "I missed your fire."
"I didn't miss you at all."
He leaned closer. "What happened to the child, Evelyn?"
She didn't blink.
"Dead," she said softly. "Like your chances with me."
The smile slipped from his face.
"Careful, darling," he said, voice low. "Secrets have a habit of bleeding out."
"So do liars," she replied coolly.
And then she walked away, heels slicing the marble floor like blades.
From across the room, Nicholas watched everything.
He saw the tension. The words unspoken. The fire in Evelyn's eyes.
And for the first time, he realized something terrifying.
This woman wasn't just hiding something.
She was preparing for war.