Chapter 891

Preston Sinclair suddenly stood up.

His expression darkened as he struggled to contain his anger. Years of impeccable upbringing kept him from lashing out over something so trivial.

"It's fine. I'll go to the restroom." Preston's gaze lingered on Evelyn as he spoke.

She gave a slight nod, and he strode away with long, purposeful steps.

Cassandra Blake remained frozen, guilt twisting her features. "I was so careless. How could I be this stupid? Evelyn, your boyfriend won't hold this against me, will he?"

Evelyn took a slow sip of her wine. "He won't." He'll just despise you.

Cassandra sank back into her seat, anxiety gnawing at her.

"No, I should go check if he needs help. Evelyn, wait here—"

Evelyn arched a brow, her smile deepening. "Of course."

She was beginning to understand exactly why Cassandra had shown up tonight.

Moments later, a waiter approached, his cheeks flushed with discomfort.

"Ms. Sinclair, I think your friend is being harassed by that woman. Shouldn't you intervene?"

Evelyn paused, then stood, wine ss still in hand.

"Thank you. I'll handle it."

Even the staff couldn't tolerate Cassandra's shamelessness.

Evelyn walked down the corridor, lined with exquisite antique vases and oil paintings—clear evidence of the restaurant's refined taste. Before she could admire the artwork, Preston's low, furious voice cut through the air.

"You're Evelyn's classmate. Act like it."

"I just want to help you clean your shirt. You wouldn't misunderstand my intentions, would you?" Cassandra's voice dripped with false sweetness. "Besides, Evelyn cycles through men like seasons. She'll forget about you soon enough. Open your eyes—everyone knows her reputation is trash. She puts on this pristine act, but who knows what she's really like in private—"

Preston's voice turned glacial. "Ms. Blake, slandering others is beneath contempt. I have no interest in listening to your filth."

He moved to leave, but Cassandra blocked him, her red lips parting seductively.

"Why don't you want to hear the truth? Don't you want to know who she really is?"

"Because everything you say is garbage." Preston shoved past her—only to freeze when he saw Evelyn leaning against the wall, swirling her wine with deceptive calm.

His expression darkened further, his usual warmth replaced by icy fury. So Preston Sinclair could lose his temper after all.

Evelyn smirked, tilting her head. Just as she was about to speak, Cassandra stumbled out.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression wounded—a stark contrast to her usual predatory gaze. It looked painfully staged.

"What did I do wrong? Do you hate me? Evelyn and I go way back. Why would I ever make a move on her boyfriend?"

She wiped fake tears, then noticed Preston hadn't left.

Her gaze lifted—and locked onto Evelyn.

Evelyn stood with effortless elegance, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp with frost.

Cassandra stiffened, then forced a smile. "I offered to pay for a new shirt, but your boyfriend refused. How sweet."

Preston's jaw clenched. He said nothing.

Evelyn stepped forward, her chin lifting slightly.

"No need. Consider us even."