Chapter 258

Alexander Blackwood was in a foul mood. The kindergarten classroom felt like a prison to him.

At just four years old, his intellect already surpassed most elementary students. His father had hired private tutors to nurture his exceptional mind.

Yet here he sat, surrounded by children who couldn't even master a simple French song after multiple repetitions.

His dark eyes scanned the room with thinly veiled disdain. The way his classmates bobbed their heads while singing irritated him. Only his twin sister Isabella received his tolerance - and even her high-pitched singing grated on his nerves.

The French teacher's nasal voice made him cringe. He'd memorized the melody after two hearings. Why couldn't these other children grasp it?

His small hands clenched into fists as the teacher began yet another repetition. The discordant chorus of off-key voices made his skin crawl.

Then he saw her.

Evelyn Sinclair stood outside the window, her warm smile cutting through his irritation like sunlight.

"Mommy!" The word burst from his lips, lost in the cacophony.

His mother pressed a finger to her lips, then gestured toward the singing children. Her unspoken command was clear: participate.

Alexander scowled but obeyed, reluctantly opening his mouth to mimic the lyrics. The corners of Evelyn's lips twitched at his dramatic sigh of resignation.

After ensuring her children were settled, Evelyn hailed a cab to Vivi Corporation. As a new employee, she couldn't afford extended absences.

The design department buzzed with activity when she arrived. Several colleagues exchanged glances as she walked to her workstation.

"Must be nice having special privileges," someone muttered.

"With that face, I'd get special treatment too," came the catty reply.

Evelyn ignored them, powering up her computer with practiced calm. The whispers still prickled at her composure.

Abigail Thornton cleared her throat sharply, silencing the gossipers. "Focus on your own work," she advised Evelyn with a reassuring pat.

The office door swung open with sudden force.

Click. Click. Click.

Vivienne Laurent entered like a storm front, her white stilettos striking the marble floor with military precision. The department supervisor carried a file like a weapon, her cold gaze sweeping the room before landing on Evelyn.

"Evelyn Sinclair?" Her voice dripped with disdain.

Abigail leaned in. "Vivienne Laurent - transferred from our Paris branch. Design department supervisor."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. Vivienne Laurent - the Vivienne Laurent? MIT graduate, winner of the Pritzker Emerging Architect Prize?

She stood hastily, extending her hand. "Ms. Laurent, it's an honor—"

Vivienne ignored the gesture, slamming the folder onto Evelyn's desk. "I don't care who hired you. In my department, we follow rules. You've missed two weeks this month. Is this your family's company?"

"I followed proper leave procedures—"

Olivia Kensington interrupted from two desks over. "I processed all her requests. They were approved by—"

"New policy," Vivienne snapped. "All leave requests go through me. And you," she turned back to Evelyn, "are forfeiting this month's bonus."

With that, she pivoted and disappeared into her office.

Evelyn stared after her, unease coiling in her stomach. That hadn't been professional disapproval in Vivienne's eyes. It had been something far more personal.

Olivia wheeled her chair over. "You okay?"

"Fine," Evelyn lied, forcing a smile.

"Oh, the department email password changed. It's 120886 now."

Evelyn froze.

Those numbers...

Dominic Blackwood's birthday.