Chapter 862
Evelyn and Nathan both froze in shock.
Nathan's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes betrayed his astonishment as Emily finished speaking.
Unbelievable.
They hadn't expected this.
This was likely the first case of its kind in the world.
They had truly shattered the boundaries of human technology. A groundbreaking innovation.
Dominic smirked.
"I hadn't planned to announce this so soon," he admitted, "but since Emily brought it up, I won't keep it a secret any longer. Though our experiment was successful, flying cars are still bound by ethics and regulations. They'll be scrapped if they aren't fully refined."
Evelyn nodded. "Your achievements are already world-renowned. Everything else is secondary."
Breaking barriers was the essence of their research.
Dominic raised his glass. "Then let's toast—"
Evelyn lifted hers, and to her surprise, Nathan humored Dominic and raised his as well, his fingers long and elegant.
The clink of crystal echoed in the room, resonating with something deeper—inspiration.
Then Dominic downed his drink without hesitation.
Emily, grinning, snapped a photo and sent it to Donovan, who had gone radio silent.
Evelyn had unknowingly emptied several glasses. A dull ache throbbed in her lower abdomen, and her head spun. She stumbled to her feet, needing the restroom.
There was one in the private room, but Evelyn disliked it—too cramped. She opted for the one down the hall instead.
She staggered in, dizzy, and emerged sober.
Damn it.
Her period had arrived—days early.
No wonder the pain had been gnawing at her. She'd blamed the alcohol.
Now what?
Her white dress already bore a faint stain. She couldn't leave the stall. Her phone was back in the room, leaving her stranded. If she walked out like this, people would either think she'd lost her mind or laugh at her.
She never imagined she'd face such humiliation.
How unlucky.
She studied herself in the mirror. Fresh from her post-workout shower, she wore no makeup, but her skin still glowed—flawless.
Perfect, except for this wretched timing.
Indecision gripped her.
To leave or not to leave? The eternal dilemma.
Strangely, the entire floor was deserted—no staff in sight. No one to ask for help.
She stood there, numb, waiting for someone to notice her absence and come looking.
Minutes dragged. No one came.
Then—a sigh.
Had she imagined it?
Was someone out there?
Her pulse jumped. She cleared her throat.
The door swung open.
Her brief hope shattered as Nathan stepped inside.
His presence filled the space, cold and commanding. His eyes burned—dark, intense, whether from alcohol or pent-up frustration, she couldn’t tell.
Evelyn’s scalp prickled.
He was drunk. No trace of rationality in his gaze.
Tall and unyielding, he closed the distance, caging her against the counter. His breath, laced with whiskey, fanned over her face as he stared down with raw hunger and restraint.
She didn’t dare struggle. Any sudden movement would worsen the mess.
Her compliance seemed to soothe his anger.
He pressed his forehead to hers, voice rough.
"Evelyn," he murmured, "you're mine. Why don't you want me anymore? Want me again. Please."
His words were a spell, impossible to resist.
Before she could protest, his mouth crashed onto hers.
He didn’t give her a choice.
How could he do this?