Chapter 834

Evelyn finally lifted her gaze, studying the bartender with deliberate scrutiny. Is this guy seriously hitting on me?

She had to admit, he was undeniably attractive—sharp cheekbones, smoldering eyes, and that cocky smirk. The kind of face that probably had half the women in this place swooning.

Too bad she'd seen enough pretty boys to last a lifetime.

A faint smirk curled her lips. "This cocktail is terrible."

The bartender chuckled, unfazed. "Picky, aren't we?"

He wasn't worried. Plenty of women spent fortunes here just for his attention. The owner practically worshipped him for it.

Evelyn tilted her head, unimpressed. "You really think a cheap drink is enough to impress someone?"

His grin faltered.

The dim, pulsing lights cast shifting shadows across the bar.

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly uneasy. There was something familiar about her—like he'd seen her before but couldn't place it.

Before he could figure it out, a woman in an elegant dress descended the spiral staircase and grabbed Evelyn's wrist.

"Isabella, what are you doing down here? Come upstairs!"

Evelyn didn't spare the bartender another glance, letting Isabella drag her away.

The bartender stiffened. Isabella Montgomery? The woman who dropped six figures here without blinking. The owner had warned him—she was untouchable.

And she'd just called that woman Evelyn.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

He flinched. "Boss?"

The owner watched the two women disappear upstairs, then sighed. "That one? You don’t want to mess with her. When we first opened, the cops and fire marshals raided us every other week because she had a run-in with some idiots outside our door. Nearly shut us down."

The bartender paled. "That’s Evelyn Sinclair?"

The boss nodded grimly. "That’s her."

Upstairs, Evelyn scanned the private room. She didn’t recognize anyone.

Isabella’s family moved in different circles from Sterling Enterprises, so it made sense. Still, Evelyn offered polite nods to the group.

Three men sat with their assistants. Isabella’s own assistant hovered nearby, refilling glasses.

One of them—Donovan Pierce—stood out. Dark hair, sharp features, and a gaze that lingered on Isabella a little too long. His smirk was calculated, his movements deliberate.

Evelyn saw right through him.

Isabella could handle herself, though. The conversation flowed smoothly, laughter masking the tension.

Glasses clinked. Toasts were made. Isabella downed hers without hesitation.

Evelyn intercepted a few drinks meant for her, but Isabella shot her a warning look. Not with your injuries.

So Evelyn sat back, watching as they launched into a drinking game.

An old-fashioned one. Isabella usually dominated these.

But Donovan was good.

The room erupted in cheers as he won another round.

Isabella, flushed from the alcohol, flashed a dazzling smile. "Fine. One last round. If I win, you sign the contract."

Donovan leaned forward. "And if I win?"

She hesitated.

His grin turned predatory. "Then you kiss me."