Chapter 890

Evelyn Sinclair took a sip of her iced tea, her gaze lingering on Cassandra Blake with a faint smile.

"Can't help it. Life's treating me well."

If it had been anyone else, Evelyn would have retaliated without hesitation.

But when she woke up each morning, she carried the weight of thousands of livelihoods on her shoulders. A single dip in the stock market could ruin her appetite for days.

Being a CEO isn’t easy, you know?

She thought dryly.

Cassandra choked, as if cotton had been shoved down her throat.

With a forced smile, she pulled out her phone. "Let's exchange contacts. We should stay in touch..."

Evelyn hesitated for only a second before nodding.

"Sure."

She was curious—what was Cassandra really after?

Once their numbers were saved, Cassandra slid her phone toward Preston Sinclair, batting her lashes with practiced charm.

"Your turn."

Preston declined smoothly. "I don’t use social media much."

Cassandra propped her chin on her hand, her gaze flickering between him and Evelyn. "That’s just an excuse, isn’t it? Who doesn’t use social media these days?"

She smirked.

"Unless Evelyn forbids you from talking to other women? Surely she’s not that petty?"

Evelyn arched a brow, amused. She glanced at Preston. "Go ahead. Might be useful."

Preston’s reluctance was obvious, but he complied.

Cassandra immediately sent him a heart emoji—cute, playful.

Then she checked his profile.

Blank.

Evelyn’s expression darkened briefly before smoothing out.

Preston didn’t react to the message. Instead, his attention remained on Evelyn. "Did you order yet?"

Evelyn tilted her head. "Since Ms. Blake is treating, I invited my team. No point holding back."

Cassandra laughed. "Exactly! We’re old friends—next time, it’s your treat!"

Next time.

The unspoken challenge hung in the air.

Evelyn’s smile didn’t waver, but Preston caught the shift in her demeanor.

If Cassandra were truly a friend, Evelyn wouldn’t have taken advantage like this.

He reached over, adjusting the scarf Evelyn had tossed aside.

The waiter arrived with their food, quickly filling the table.

"Ms. Sinclair, there’s more—"

Evelyn waved a hand. "My colleagues will be here soon. Just leave the rest on the empty seats."

The waiter bowed. "Of course."

Moments later, wine was brought out. Cassandra snatched the bottle eagerly. "Let me!"

She poured a glass for Evelyn, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"I envy you. A rich, devoted boyfriend? Must be nice. People like you—born with everything. Men fall at your feet with just a glance. Meanwhile, I’m still fighting my way up, single and struggling..."

Her gaze slid to Preston, lingering.

Then—

Her hand jerked.

Wine splashed across Preston’s shirt.

"Oh! Clumsy me!"

She rushed around the table, fingers reaching for his stained collar. "Let me help—"