Chapter 418

Evelyn's fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. When she turned around again, the tall figure in Prussian blue had already vanished into the crowd.

Wish me good luck? What the hell does that mean?

She took her seat behind Madam Nora, her mind racing. Then, out of nowhere, she caught a glimpse of a painfully familiar face in the crowd.

Their eyes met—just for a split second—before the woman turned sharply and disappeared.

Evelyn's breath hitched.

That was Rosalind.

But how? Rosalind is supposed to be in Stoslo?

A cold dread settled in her stomach. Without thinking, she stood and slipped backstage.

Dominic Kent smirked when he spotted her, his lips curling into something dark and unreadable.

Evelyn lifted the hem of her dress, moving swiftly through the empty corridor. But by the time she reached the other side, there was no sign of anyone.

Why is Rosalind here?

The question gnawed at her. Something wasn’t right.

"Miss, are you lost?"

A man in a black suit materialized behind her, his voice smooth but oddly tense.

Evelyn turned, forcing a polite smile. "No, I just thought I saw someone I knew. Must’ve been mistaken."

She started to walk away, but the man spoke again. "Aren’t you supposed to meet Mr. Goldmann?"

She froze. "Excuse me?"

The man bowed slightly. "Mr. Goldmann is here, but he can’t appear publicly. He sent me to escort you to his private lounge."

Evelyn’s gaze flicked to the man’s hands—crossed in front of him. A small tattoo marked the back of his right hand.

None of Nathan’s bodyguards have tattoos like that.

Her instincts screamed at her. "Do you even work for Nathan?"

The man stiffened.

She didn’t wait for an answer. Spinning on her heel, she bolted toward the main hall.

A hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her back. She twisted, slashing her ring across his cheek. Blood welled from the cut, but before she could break free, another pair of hands seized her from behind.

A sharp prick at her neck.

Sedative.

Her vision blurred. The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her was Rosalind stepping out of the shadows, her smile chilling.

The room smelled like antiseptic and decay.

Evelyn groaned as she forced her eyes open, the blinding white light above making her wince. She turned her head, blinking until the world came into focus.

Medical equipment surrounded her. A blue partition screen blocked most of the room from view. It looked like a hospital—but not quite. More like a lab.

A faded poster on the wall caught her eye—Stoslo Viral Outbreak, 30 Years Ago.

Her pulse spiked.

She tried to sit up, only to realize her wrists and ankles were strapped to the bed.

A cold laugh echoed through the room.

"Finally awake?"

Rosalind stepped into view, flanked by two figures in full protective suits.

Her smile was razor-sharp. "Bet you didn’t see this coming. In Zlokova, you were untouchable. But here?" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Here, you’re mine."

Evelyn strained against the restraints. "What the hell do you want, Rosalind?"

Rosalind’s fingers closed around her throat, nails digging in. "What do I want?" She tilted her head, mockingly sweet. "How about I dissect you alive and pickle you in formalin? A perfect little specimen."