Chapter 833

Evelyn Sinclair lifted her gaze to meet Nathan Blackwood's eyes in silence.

She suspected he'd tampered with the stew.

Just then, Bennett entered with their coffees. "President Sinclair, Mr. Blackwood, your coffee—"

Without hesitation, Evelyn grabbed a cup and downed it in one go.

The bitter, scalding liquid burned her throat, but she kept her expression neutral as she set the cup down with deliberate grace.

Nathan's face darkened slightly, while Bennett frowned in concern.

A faint smile curved Evelyn's lips as she glanced between them. "The coffee's excellent. I'll take another."

Bennett's sharp eyes flicked to the untouched stew on the table, lingering for a moment before understanding dawned.

"Right away, President Sinclair."

Once he left, Nathan narrowed his eyes, took a sip of his own coffee, and scoffed. Evelyn dabbed her lips with a napkin, her tone polite but distant. "The stew wasn't bad. Thanks."

Nathan exhaled, satisfaction flickering in his gaze.

"To make up for my mistake, I'll send you a fresh batch every day from now on."

Evelyn's smile froze.

"That won't be necessary."

He rubbed his temple, undeterred. "It's no trouble. I'll keep at it until you unblock me."

Evelyn paused, then pulled out her phone, scrolling briefly before meeting his eyes. "I should reflect on my behavior. We are business partners, after all. Blocking you was impulsive. Rest assured, Mr. Blackwood, it won't happen again."

Her crisp, professional tone caught him off guard. A guarantee? Nathan almost couldn't believe it. His brows furrowed—part frustration, part disappointment. No more daily deliveries? What a shame.

Evelyn's thoughts were far less diplomatic. Just leave me alone.

Nathan's phone buzzed urgently—Harrison calling. His expression tightened before he stood. Evelyn rose as well, ready to see him out. Without another word, Nathan strode away, his long legs carrying him swiftly from the room.

Finally, peace.

Bennett returned with a fresh coffee. Evelyn tilted her chin toward the stew. "Toss it." He nodded.

She usually loved stews, but this one had been impossible to stomach. "Did Mr. Blackwood make this himself?" Bennett muttered.

Evelyn blinked, her face carefully blank. Right. Definitely not Theodore's standard.

If it had been anyone else, she might have been touched.

But this was Nathan.

She half-wondered if it was poisoned.

The afternoon passed quietly until Isabella Montgomery called. She had a high-stakes client meeting and wanted Evelyn there for moral support.

Evelyn agreed without hesitation.

She hadn’t expected the venue to be that newly opened bar—the one crawling with troublemakers.

Just thinking about it gave her a headache.

But the reservation was set. She had no choice.

When Evelyn arrived, the bar was at least functioning normally—loud music pulsing, the energy chaotic but not lawless.

The moment she stepped inside, whistles cut through the noise.

Evelyn ignored them.

Her fitted blouse tucked into a sleek pencil skirt accentuated her narrow waist and endless legs. The injury had healed, but her family had vetoed heels—so she’d opted for low pumps instead. It didn’t diminish her presence one bit.

She moved to the bar, texted Isabella, and waited.

The bartender slid a cocktail toward her, gaze lingering.

Evelyn didn’t glance up. "I didn’t order this."

"My treat," he said.

"No, thanks."

He pushed a QR code across the counter. "Already paid for. If you won’t accept it, just transfer the cost back."

His tone was smooth. Too smooth.