Chapter 311

Dominic Blackwood exuded his usual aura of sharp intelligence and effortless nobility. A single glance from him could shift the entire atmosphere of a room.

Sebastian Whitmore approached with deference, handing over a thick stack of files. "I've nearly completed all your requests, Mr. Blackwood. Among those involved in Evelyn's grandfather's abduction, one remains in A City—Donovan Blackwood. He thought hiding in plain sight would keep him safe. He purchased a fake identity, but his gambling habit led our men straight to him at a casino last week."

Sebastian continued, "With Donovan in custody, we can reopen the case and pin the blame on Maxwell Lockwood instead of Yvette Prescott. That should ensure he spends a long time behind bars. I've also uncovered substantial evidence of Maxwell's past crimes..."

Dominic gave Sebastian's shoulder a firm pat. His dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Evelyn Sinclair received the call just as she left work.

She hadn't spoken to Maxwell since Dominic had beaten him to a pulp.

Seeing his name flash on her screen sent a chill down her spine, memories of his attempted assault flooding back.

She hesitated. But if she wanted this divorce finalized, she had to face him.

Taking a steadying breath, she answered.

"Speak."

"Let's meet to discuss the divorce. Alone," Maxwell demanded.

Suspicion coiled in her gut.

She knew better than to trust him. After everything, she wouldn’t walk into another trap.

"If you don't show, forget about the divorce. Clearwater Tea Room." His voice was ice before the line went dead.

Evelyn stared at her phone, fingers trembling.

No. She wouldn’t meet him alone.

Instead, she called Dominic.

Maxwell arrived first, securing a secluded private room.

He missed her.

The recent JK Media article had unsettled him—Dominic revealing Evelyn as Alexander and Isabella’s birth mother. And now, with Gideon Whitmore arrested and his posts scrubbed from Xeddit, Maxwell felt cornered.

Furious.

Evelyn treated him like trash, yet he couldn’t let her go.

An addiction.

That first meeting five years ago had sealed his obsession.

He wouldn’t release her, no matter the cost.

The tea room’s soothing melody did nothing to calm him.

Time crawled.

His ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts. Still, no Evelyn.

Just as he reached for his phone, the door swung open.

Dominic strode in, commanding the space effortlessly.

Maxwell’s jaw clenched as Dominic took the seat opposite him.

Two dominant forces, locked in silent battle.

"Why are you here?" Maxwell spat.

His ribs still ached from their last encounter.

Dominic slid an envelope across the table. "A gift."

Maxwell opened it—a CD and a thick dossier.

His eyes widened with each page. Fear slithered down his spine.

He slammed a palm down. "What’s this supposed to mean?"

Dominic poured himself tea, unfazed. "Simple. Divorce Evelyn."

Maxwell wanted to shred the evidence.

Instead, he leaned back, feigning calm. "You think this scares me? These are old crimes. No solid proof. You can’t touch me. And don’t think swaying public opinion with JK Media changes anything. My marriage to Evelyn is legal. Push me, and I’ll drag you down with me."

Brave words.

But his pulse raced.

Dominic had dug up everything—hit-and-runs, illegal firearms, money laundering. Crimes he thought buried forever.

How deep did Dominic’s reach go?

The man was a wolf in tailored suits, waiting to strike.