Chapter 117

"Ex-boyfriend?" Alexander was stabbing his steak with a fork. He froze mid-bite when his uncle spoke.

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing.

Evelyn blinked rapidly, her long dark lashes fluttering like butterfly wings under the harsh dining room lights.

Under the twin stares of his niece and nephew, Julian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, ex-boyfriend. The guy Evelyn dated before your father came along..."

He suddenly felt an icy glare piercing through him. Looking up, he met Dominic's stormy expression, the man's injured arm resting stiffly on the table.

Both children immediately turned their questioning gazes toward their father.

"Working alongside her ex? What a disaster!" Margaret Lockwood chimed in with a sneer.

These past few days, Margaret had been practically banished from the estate - shuffled off to play bridge with her society friends or exiled to the countryside cabin.

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly why.

Beatrice's precious son had found himself a woman, and during that disastrous first meeting, Margaret had witnessed the entire messy family drama unfold.

Now they wanted her out of the way to maintain some illusion of domestic bliss whenever that Sinclair girl came around.

Margaret swallowed her rage. But discovering that Beatrice's potential daughter-in-law had an ex working in the same company? This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Beatrice sat rigidly across from her.

When their eyes met, Beatrice nearly blurted out that Dominic had already broken things off with Evelyn.

But the family patriarch remained unaware of this development, so Beatrice bit her tongue, maintaining her composed facade.

The elderly Reginald Blackwood finally broke his silence. "Julian, care to explain this situation?"

Julian shot a nervous glance at Dominic. It wasn't illegal to have an ex, was it?

"Evelyn studied abroad and had a relationship during that time. It lasted barely a year before they both returned and coincidentally ended up at our family company," Julian explained hastily. "Turns out the guy was a cheating bastard who—"

"Who what?" Reginald's bushy eyebrows drew together.

Every eye at the table fixed on Julian.

Dominic abruptly set down his utensils. "I'm finished. Excuse me."

"—who cheated with Evelyn's half-sister," Julian finished in a rush.

Margaret's eyes lit up with malicious understanding. "So Dominic and Evelyn have only known each other for what, a month...?"

Once Dominic left, Margaret felt emboldened. "Father, we must be cautious about who we allow into this family. We can't repeat Allison's mistake. If not for Dominic's efforts to restore our reputation after that scandal, the Blackwood name would still be mud. Imagine if the press discovered Zachary's wife was a—"

"Enough!" Beatrice slammed her fork down so hard it bounced off the table.

Margaret merely smirked. "Did I strike a nerve? Everything I said was factual. The children should learn early about the real snakes in this family. About who's truly deceitful and shameless in this household!"

"I'm done." Alexander pushed his plate away.

"Me too." Isabella followed her brother's lead.

Instead of heading upstairs, the twins made a beeline for the gardens.

Anywhere was better than this toxic dining room.

Meanwhile, at the private club...

Evelyn couldn't hold it any longer. The private suite's restroom was occupied, so she ventured out to find the general facilities.

Yvette Prescott followed like a shadow, waiting until Evelyn entered a stall before slamming her palm against the closing door.

"Stop avoiding me. We need to talk."

Evelyn looked up calmly, though her pupils dilated slightly. "I'm not avoiding anyone."

"I'd rather not waste breath on scheming trash like you, but you leave me no choice," Yvette hissed. "I've dealt with countless gold-digging bitches. Even though Dominic dumped you, you need to disappear. Resign. Do it now, and I might throw you a designer handbag or two as consolation."

"Finished?" Evelyn's voice remained steady. "Then get out."

Yvette shoved harder against the door. "You'll do as I say, you pathetic—"

Other women exiting nearby stalls gave Yvette odd looks but quickly averted their eyes, washing their hands in silence.

A janitor entered to mop the floors.

Evelyn smiled coolly. "Ms. Prescott, someone as magnificent as you shouldn't lower herself to confront someone as insignificant as me."

"What?" Yvette's voice pitched higher. "You're disgusting! What does he even see in you?" She carefully avoided saying Dominic's name aloud.

"Perhaps he's tired of perfection," Evelyn mused, fingers moving to unbutton her skirt as if preparing to undress right there. "Maybe he finds my... vulgarity refreshing."

Yvette recoiled, letting the stall door slam shut. She leaned against the tiled wall outside, shaking her head. "And here I thought I had real competition. What a joke. Trash like you gets discarded without any effort on my part."

She yawned dramatically. "Know your place, peasant. You'll never belong in our world. What do you even have to offer? Your thrift store wardrobe? Your broken home? Your embarrassing parents?"

The janitor aggressively mopped near Yvette's designer heels. "Move."

"Ugh! Disgusting!" Yvette shrieked, jumping away from the mop. "This is why I hate poor people!"

Back in the club, Nathan Kensington texted his group chat while searching for Evelyn.

He couldn't ask others about her whereabouts directly—if anything happened to Evelyn after his friends' "prank," suspicion would fall on him first.

After thirty fruitless minutes, Nathan began to worry she'd passed out drunk somewhere.

He finally replied to the group: 'Looking for her, don't worry.'

Outside the club's entrance, a sleek black Bentley sat idling, its customized license plate broadcasting wealth and power.

Sebastian Whitmore emerged, ushering two children toward the entrance.

"Daddy, aren't you coming?" Alexander asked knowingly. The boy saw right through his father's aloof act—Dominic cared more about Evelyn than he'd ever admit. Before entering, the clever child decided to give his father one last chance.