Chapter 765

Without warning, Preston Sinclair produced a perfectly round orange from his coat pocket. Its vibrant hue glowed under the sunlight, impossibly tempting.

His gaze softened as he held it out. "For you."

Evelyn Sinclair froze.

She'd received countless extravagant gifts—diamond necklaces, rare antiques, designer handbags worth more than most cars. Yet this simple fruit, its surface gleaming with dewy freshness, struck something deep inside her.

Her pulse quickened.

Something warm unfurled in her chest.

She could already imagine its sweetness before even tasting it.

Evelyn accepted it with practiced grace, ignoring the sudden tightness in her throat. "Where did you get this?"

His lips curved. "An elderly vendor bumped his cart into my car door while I was parking. He looked terrified, so I asked for this as compensation."

That rich, melodic voice of his could melt glaciers.

Evelyn burst out laughing. His understated luxury sedan would cost five figures to repair. And he'd settled for a single orange?

Classic Preston—generous to a fault.

She arched a brow. "This must be the world's most expensive citrus."

"Which is why you should experience its uniqueness firsthand," he countered, that intense stare making her cheeks burn.

Evelyn turned toward the window, feigning interest in the cloudless sky. "I'll eat it later. Just finished lunch."

Preston suddenly remembered something, pulling out his phone. "Oliver's been begging to video call you since Tuesday. Want to see him now?"

Always so considerate. Evelyn nodded eagerly. "Absolutely."

She missed that clever little troublemaker.

The screen soon filled with Oliver Sinclair's cherubic face, his pout dramatic. "Daddy! I miss you! Can I visit?"

Preston remained unmoved. "No."

As if the boy actually missed him.

This was clearly about Evelyn.

Preston knew his son's tricks—if left unchecked, Oliver would monopolize Evelyn's attention while subtly sabotaging his father's chances. Not happening.

Evelyn reached for the phone. "Let me talk to him."

The moment her face appeared, Oliver gasped. "Aunt Evelyn!"

"Been behaving?" she teased.

"Obviously! I just won the International Youth Genius Championship!" Normally humble, Oliver preened under her attention. "Youngest winner ever."

Evelyn showered him with praise until the boy glowed with pride.

Preston scoffed silently. Pathetic. Bragging about some kiddie contest.

Oliver caught the sound and scowled. "Private conversation! Intruders scram!"

Intruder? Preston's eye twitched. I changed your diapers, you ungrateful—

Deep breath.

Next time I'm in San Francisco, that child is getting the sternest talking-to of his life.