Chapter 815

Evelyn didn't even glance at the bag as she took it, leading Preston inside with purposeful strides.

She filled the walk with an overview of the entertainment industry's current climate. "While I'm no expert, I've heard regulators are cracking down on inflated film salaries."

Preston nodded attentively as she continued. "Stars can't demand outrageous fees anymore. They either improve their craft or find...creative payment methods. Risky business either way."

"Indeed," Preston agreed. "Several A-listers have already crashed spectacularly. Their scandals tanked entire productions. That's why I've been observing the market carefully before investing."

Evelyn suddenly remembered Preston was an actual investor. If he'd been serious about showbiz, he would've done his research ages ago. That earlier excuse had clearly been just that - an excuse.

A pang of disappointment shot through her.

Preston noticed her mood shift and frowned. Had he said something wrong? He tried redirecting. "Any particular stars you admire?"

Evelyn blinked, then straightened. "I don't idolize celebrities. I'm not some starstruck girl - I'm Sterling Enterprises' CEO focused on building my empire!"

The elevator fell silent for a beat before Preston chuckled. "Yes, that much is obvious."

Evelyn's cheeks burned at his amused tone. 'He's totally humoring me! Fine - actions speak louder than words.' She clamped her mouth shut.

Upon arrival, they spotted a familiar figure pacing outside the designated hall. Evelyn squinted. 'Isn't that Tristan Whitmore?'

Tristan turned, his expression freezing when he saw Evelyn and Preston. His gaze flickered between them before settling on Evelyn with forced cheer. "Fancy meeting you here!"

Evelyn peeked inside where a lively crowd mingled, guarded by a bouncer. Understanding dawned. Tristan had been barred entry. She smirked. "Not a coincidence. I was invited. You...?"

Tristan's smile twitched as if he'd been gut-punched. Evelyn always knew exactly where to twist the knife. Only Nathan could tolerate her brutal honesty.

"I was just—" Tristan began.

The bouncer smoothly intervened. "Ms. Sinclair, please come in." He added pointedly, "Mr. Whitmore caused a scene earlier - assaulted staff. The producers had him removed."

Evelyn burst out laughing while Tristan's face darkened like he'd stepped in something foul. "Must you air dirty laundry?" he snapped at the bouncer, who retreated nervously.

"Who exactly are you intimidating, Mr. Whitmore?" Evelyn arched a brow. "Shall we?" She glanced at Preston.

Traditionally, gentlemen escorted ladies by offering their arm. Preston stepped forward without hesitation, extending his elbow. Since it was proper etiquette, Evelyn accepted without fuss.

As they moved to enter, Tristan scrambled after them. "Evelyn, darling, take me with you!"

He'd rather gouge his eyes out than watch those two cozy up inside without him.