Chapter 783

Nathan Blackwood didn't get to finish his sentence before Lucas Sterling's voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.

"Who let you in here, Nathan Blackwood?"

Lucas made no effort to hide his disdain.

He used to pity the man, but now? Disgust was the only thing left.

"You think you can just hover over my sister like that?"

Nathan had leaned in too close—like he had any right.

No. Absolutely not.

Nathan straightened, his jaw tight. At the same moment, Evelyn Sinclair pressed the button on her wheelchair, rolling back smoothly.

Lucas stepped forward, positioning himself between them, his glare a warning.

"Mr. Blackwood, you're the last person welcome in this house. Get out."

No one spoke to Nathan like that. No one.

But this was Lucas—Evelyn's brother.

Nathan clenched his fists, forced to swallow the insult.

His gaze flicked to Evelyn.

She gave him a cool smile. "Goodbye, Nathan."

He hesitated, then nodded stiffly. "I'll come back."

A final glance at Lucas, and he turned on his heel.

His retreating figure was anything but graceful.

Evelyn tapped Lucas's arm. "Let's go."

Lucas pushed her wheelchair forward without another word.

When they reached the pebble path, he lifted her effortlessly.

Evelyn frowned. "This path is ridiculous. Get rid of it."

Lucas smirked. "Dad handpicked every stone. Say the word, and I'll have it cleared by morning."

Evelyn paused. "Never mind. I thought it was your terrible taste."

Lucas scoffed. No gratitude at all.

"Nathan really screwed up this time. Must’ve lost his mind."

Evelyn settled back into her wheelchair, pressing the button to move forward. Her voice was flat. "It was Reginald Blackwood. Nathan isn’t that stupid."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Love makes people stupid. Either way, I’m on your side."

Evelyn arched a brow. "You sure you picked the right team?"

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "You still into him?"

Evelyn smirked. "I’d rather stay single. So don’t switch sides."

Lucas huffed and stalked off.

Less than a day later.

The internet had barely finished apologizing for believing the rumors when the scandal reignited.

A popular influencer, Shai, exposed everything.

Sophia Blackwood had paid him to spread lies about Evelyn—vicious, fabricated stories.

Shai released screenshots of their messages and bank transfers.

The topic exploded.

Sophia had transferred 82 million. A fortune.

She wanted Evelyn painted as a homewrecker. Shai hesitated.

[Sophia Blackwood: Make it worse. Say she’s a serial mistress. Better yet—say Preston Sinclair’s son is hers.]

[Shai: That’s harsh.]

[Sophia Blackwood: Do you want the money or not? I want her ruined.]

Every word dripped with entitlement.