Chapter 164

Evelyn Sinclair arrived at the café, her eyes immediately drawn to Alexander Blackwood seated by the window. Even from behind, his broad shoulders and confident posture were unmistakable—she would recognize him anywhere.

But there was no sign of the woman who was supposed to be sitting across from him.

Evelyn frowned.

Had she already left? Maybe she was in the restroom.

Without bothering to greet Alexander, Evelyn strode toward the ladies' room, scanning the café for anyone matching the woman’s description from the photo she’d seen.

No one.

Her jaw clenched.

After smoothing her dress and fixing her expression into something pleasant, she turned back—only to find Alexander’s seat empty.

Her heart lurched.

She rushed to the elevator, catching just a glimpse of his sleek silver sports car speeding away.

And in the passenger seat—a woman.

Evelyn’s fingers trembled as she dialed his number.

The line rang.

And rang.

No answer.

That night, Evelyn sat at her desk, sketching new jewelry designs with quiet intensity.

A small figure barreled into her, climbing onto her lap like an eager kitten.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Amelia beamed, waving a bright pink lollipop. "A boy gave this to me today! It’s so yummy!"

Evelyn smiled, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s soft curls. "Did you thank him?"

Amelia nodded vigorously. "I gave him my yellow duckie, but he didn’t want it!"

Evelyn chuckled. "Maybe next time—"

"I know! I’ll give him my sparkly hair clip tomorrow!" Amelia declared, wriggling free and darting toward the coffee table.

Evelyn’s smile faltered.

"Amelia," she called carefully. "What was the boy’s name?"

"Ethan Blackwood!" Amelia chirped. "Just like me!"

Evelyn’s breath caught.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed.

A familiar, soothing voice answered. "Settling in alright in Willowbrook?"

"Yes," Evelyn murmured. Then, after a pause, "When are you coming back?"

The man on the other end sensed the shift in her tone. "What’s wrong?"

"Amelia met Ethan Blackwood today. She… seems fond of him."

"They’re children, Evelyn. Don’t overthink it." His voice was steady, reassuring. "Get some rest."

She exhaled slowly. "You too. Goodnight."

The call ended, but her thoughts raced.

If not for him, she would have died years ago.

Instead, she had rebuilt herself—stronger, sharper.

Now, she was back in Willowbrook.

And revenge was within reach.

She pulled up photos of Alexander and Victoria Lancaster’s engagement online, her fingers tightening around her phone.

The memory of that day—of the "gift" she’d left for them—flashed through her mind.

Victoria’s birthday as the prized Montgomery heiress was coming soon.

And Evelyn intended to make it unforgettable.

The next few days were a blur of preparation for the grand opening of her boutique on Diamond Boulevard.

No one knew what she had endured these past three years.

No one suspected the storm brewing beneath her polished exterior.

But she knew.

Power was the only currency that mattered.

And she would wield it ruthlessly.

Meanwhile, Victoria had noticed something unsettling.

Alexander had been visiting Diamond Boulevard daily.

He never entered the shops.

Just sat in his car.

Talking to a woman.

A woman whose silhouette was hauntingly familiar.

The same woman from Golden Arches.

The one who looked like Evelyn Sinclair.

After some digging, Victoria finally had a name.

Vivian Prescott.