Chapter 813

Evelyn Sinclair blinked in surprise. "Borrow money?"

Natalie Beaumont sighed, fingers tracing the edges of her slightly creased face mask.

"Adrian Prescott owes a massive penalty fee. He came crawling to me, begging for help. I pitied him at first, so I gave him the money." Her voice turned sharp. "But instead of paying the fine, he blew it all on cocaine. The man is beyond redemption."

Evelyn's eyes widened. "What happened next?"

Natalie scoffed. "When I found out, I called the police. He spent a few nights in jail, then had the audacity to ask me for more cash the second he got out."

Evelyn tsked. "So that's why you're hiding out here?"

Natalie muttered, "Lucas insisted I stay with him for a while. At least this way, Adrian won’t lose his mind and do something reckless."

Evelyn nodded approvingly. "Good. Stay as long as you need. I'm not moving out anytime soon—we can keep each other company."

Natalie didn’t respond, just exhaled heavily.

"How did I even pick such trash from the gutter in the first place? I must’ve been blind."

Adrian had seemed decent on the surface, but underneath? Pure filth.

Evelyn shrugged. "At least you got out early. If you’d stayed, he would’ve dragged you down with him sooner or later."

Natalie sighed again, struck by how quickly people could change—how fragile trust really was.

After knowing Adrian for years, she’d never suspected he was capable of this. Then, abruptly, Natalie turned to Evelyn. "Between Nathan Blackwood and Preston Sinclair, who do you think is better?"

The question hit Evelyn like a slap. She forced calm into her voice. "What does it matter to me if they're decent or not?"

"You have to pick one eventually. You can’t stay single forever." Natalie raised a brow. "Weren’t you the one who always dreamed of growing old with someone?"

If Natalie had been looking, she would’ve seen Evelyn’s eyes roll so far back they nearly got stuck. "Actually, I’ve decided growing old with a crowd sounds much better."

Silence.

Natalie was momentarily speechless. A year ago, Evelyn would’ve never said something like that.

"I can tell Preston is interested in you. Do you know him well?"

Evelyn hesitated, then shook her head.

"Preston gives off warm, reliable vibes, but I can’t quite read him." A smirk tugged at her lips. "I like his son better, though."

She wondered if that sharp-witted Oliver Sinclair was currently being scolded for something.

After removing their masks, neither woman had the energy to stay up longer. They retreated to their rooms.

Within days, Evelyn could walk without her cane again. The Sandford project still had complications, but construction had begun. Jonathan Reeves kept a close eye on progress.

Evelyn planned to head to the office early, but then a message from Vivian Lockwood popped up.

[The first season of our show wrapped successfully. Ms. Sterling, would you like to join our celebration?]

Vivian had been nothing but kind, so Evelyn couldn’t refuse.

Besides, she’d invested in Vivian’s firm. Skipping the event would only invite unnecessary speculation.

[Sure.]

After weeks of monotony, a party was exactly what Evelyn needed.

Vivian immediately sent the details—a hotel near the set. Not far.

Evelyn redirected her driver.

The moment she stepped out of the car, she spotted a familiar figure shaking hands with someone, exchanging pleasantries after what looked like a business meeting.

Of course.

It was Preston Sinclair.