Chapter 893

This was no laughing matter. If someone of Evelyn Sinclair's stature did this, countless people would willingly take the fall for her.

But Cassandra Blake's entire life would be utterly destroyed.

Cassandra's desperate gaze sought Preston Sinclair, standing nearby, silently pleading for intervention.

Preston's expression remained impassive. He showed no inclination to intervene—if anything, his demeanor bordered on indulgent amusement.

As a gentleman, Preston couldn't lay hands on a woman. Otherwise, she'd already be sporting bruises.

Watching Evelyn threaten Cassandra so openly filled him with grim satisfaction.

Cassandra clenched her teeth. She had to save herself. "Pacific Crest International—"

Her voice trembled with barely suppressed terror.

Evelyn paused, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Nathan Blackwood?"

"N-No! I'm just an employee under Mr. Blackwood, but he didn't send me! I'm from Pacific Crest International—"

Cassandra tried to explain further, but Evelyn had already lost patience.

Grabbing Cassandra by the collar, Evelyn dragged her back without a shred of concern for her dignity.

Cassandra didn't dare resist—not with Preston watching.

As they passed through the dining area, Bennett and several colleagues were already eating.

The moment they spotted Evelyn hauling a disheveled woman past them, silence fell for several heartbeats.

Evelyn smiled sweetly, casually waving the broken wine glass still in her hand. "Don't stop on my account. Order more if you're still hungry. Bennett, play host."

Bennett nodded. "Yes, Ms. Sinclair."

Everyone blinked, then immediately pretended they'd seen nothing. Glasses clinked as forced chatter resumed.

"This restaurant is fantastic—"

"Ms. Sinclair is so generous, booking the whole place for us—"

"You have to try this dish—"

Cassandra's pleading eyes found no sympathy. Not a single person met her gaze. Now she understood what true willful ignorance looked like. Even the waitstaff averted their eyes.

The once-polished woman who'd introduced herself as Evelyn's classmate now looked utterly pitiful.

The transformation was staggering.

Evelyn hauled Cassandra into a side room and shoved her inside, then pulled out sanitizing wipes to meticulously clean her hands, wiping each slender finger with visible disgust.

Preston entered, closing the door behind him.

"Evelyn, vent your anger, but don't permanently damage her." His words inexplicably chilled the air.

Evelyn paused, studying Cassandra's trembling form. A slow smile curved her lips. "We're civilized people. I won't resort to violence."

She pulled out her phone and dialed Nathan.

Understanding dawned on Preston. He chuckled dryly—he'd misjudged her intentions.

The call connected in two rings.

Nathan sounded both confused and surprised. "Evelyn? You're calling me?"

Evelyn's gaze locked onto Cassandra's startled face as she relayed their location. "Come collect your employee."

Then she hung up.

Cassandra opened her mouth to explain, but Evelyn had already turned away, uninterested. Preston followed, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Evelyn's mood noticeably improved as she rejoined the others for lunch.

The group wisely avoided mentioning what they'd witnessed.

One by one, they finished eating and returned to work.

The moment they left, Nathan arrived.

Anticipating Evelyn's summons, Nathan had selected a crisp new shirt. His tailored suit accentuated his lean frame, his posture impeccable. With his striking features and commanding presence, he cut an imposing figure.

His eyes immediately found Evelyn. He approached—only to freeze at the sight of the man seated opposite her.

Preston Sinclair.

The man he despised most.