Chapter 825

Preston's words hinted that he'd purchased this place solely to be near Evelyn.

Evelyn blinked in surprise before quickly regaining her composure.

"That condo sold out years ago. It was quite the hot commodity back then."

She tilted her head, recalling. "My brother Lucas bought it for me with his first big acting paycheck. Lucky for me, the location's prime—right in the heart of Montecito's most exclusive district. The Highland Estates is the only property that never dipped in value, even during the market crash."

After all, these homes catered to the elite. What did billionaires care about minor price fluctuations?

Someone like Preston Sinclair didn't even blink before signing the check.

The thought reinforced her confidence in the Sandford development project. She intended to revolutionize the real estate market there.

Preston chuckled, rubbing his temple. Did she completely miss the point?

Still, he gave her an approving look.

"Ms. Sinclair, you never disappoint. Your market insight is razor-sharp."

Evelyn smirked, lifting her chin. "I’ve always had a knack for lucrative industries."

Preston exhaled, amused.

He stepped forward, scanning his fingerprint to unlock the door, then gestured for her to enter. "After you."

The moment Evelyn stepped inside, the house came alive.

State-of-the-art AI systems controlled everything—lights, temperature, even the curtains. Preston had always been fascinated by technology. No surprise he’d invested heavily in artificial intelligence.

Evelyn knew the most advanced smart home systems originated from Denmark. Importing and installing one here must have been a logistical nightmare.

The system recognized its owner instantly. Two pairs of slippers—one masculine, one feminine—slid out from the shoe cabinet. "Welcome home, Master."

Evelyn hesitated.

Her tailored coat and fitted dress made bending down awkward. She wasn’t keen on changing shoes, half-tempted to leave.

Then Preston dropped to one knee before her.

Before she could protest, he’d already slipped off her heels and replaced them with the plush house slippers.

Evelyn flushed, murmuring thanks. It felt rude to walk out now.

Growing up, this kind of attention was normal. Her father, William, had done it when she was little. Later, her brothers took over. If it had been Alexander or Lucas, she wouldn’t have batted an eye.

But Preston? That was different.

He stood smoothly, as if nothing unusual had happened. "Come on. Oliver’s gift is in the next room."

Evelyn took a steadying breath. She trusted Preston’s integrity. Besides, her driver was waiting outside. Nothing inappropriate would happen.

The penthouse exuded modern European elegance—minimalist yet warm, every detail meticulously curated. Clearly, an internationally renowned designer had been involved.

The decor was refined, soothing. Just like Preston himself.

He opened the nearest door, nodding for her to look inside.

Evelyn smiled, curious.

Handmade gifts usually meant paintings or sculptures. But the second she stepped forward, her blood ran cold.

She stumbled back—straight into Preston’s solid chest. His hand steadied her waist, warm and firm.

The moment she regained her balance, he withdrew, as if he’d only meant to catch her.

Evelyn stared, horrified.

The room featured an indoor pool.

And in that pool?

A crocodile.

A massive, living crocodile.

It took her a full minute to find her voice. She whirled toward Preston, pointing disbelievingly at the creature.

"This—this has to be a joke."

No way was this the gift.