Chapter 910

The terrain was unforgiving here, with no modern conveniences in sight.

Not even a wheelchair could be found.

Evelyn had twisted her ankle and needed support, but crutches were nowhere to be found.

Sebastian, ever the resourceful one, proudly presented her with a hand-carved wooden stick.

He even strutted around her with it, grinning.

"Perfect fit. I’m practically a master craftsman. You should really reconsider your choice in men."

Preston’s eyebrow twitched. "He dares flirt with Evelyn right in front of me?"

Evelyn scoffed. "Don’t insult actual craftsmen. I’ll use this to beat you senseless."

The stick was flimsy—if she swung it, she’d probably break her other foot.

Sebastian smirked. "You can barely walk, and you think you can hit me?"

Natalie, watching from the sidelines, wisely kept silent as Sebastian dug his own grave.

Preston’s voice was calm but edged with warning. "Her boyfriend can do it for her."

Sebastian froze, then let out a sharp laugh. "So what if he’s her boyfriend? Preston cut in line to get here!"

Evelyn turned to Preston, amused. "Do you have some kind of vendetta against him?"

Preston adjusted his collar, his expression serious. "He was flirting with you."

Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh, and Natalie joined in.

"Mr. Sinclair, your jealousy is showing. What Sebastian’s doing isn’t flirting—it’s called courting disaster!"

Evelyn nodded. Sebastian wasn’t even a blip on her romantic radar.

He was like Natalie and Isabella—friends for life.

Preston exhaled, visibly relieved. His lips curved into a smirk as he leaned closer.

"I know. But if he gets too close, what’s left for me?" His tone dripped with smug satisfaction.

Evelyn stared at the warmth in his eyes, momentarily dazed.

Since when had Preston’s smile been this dangerously hypnotic?

Natalie clicked her tongue, shattering the moment.

Preston stepped back, while Evelyn’s cheeks burned.

Less than twenty minutes later, the distant roar of a helicopter grew louder.

Natalie handed Evelyn over to Preston.

Evelyn tried to hobble forward on her own, but Preston didn’t budge.

She shot him a look. "Preston, give me a hand—"

Otherwise, she’d have to wait for Alexander to carry her.

But she wasn’t that patient.

Preston hesitated, then sat beside her, his expression unreadable.

"That’s not the right way to ask."

"Huh?"

In one smooth motion, he scooped her up, arms secure beneath her knees and back.

He gazed down at her.

"You should’ve asked me to carry you."

Evelyn was speechless.

Preston carried her effortlessly, as if she were something precious.

The winter sun was warm, but a chill lingered in the air.

The moment they stepped outside, Evelyn shivered.

Preston tightened his hold.

The helicopter’s deafening roar grew louder as they approached.

Sebastian had already boarded impatiently, but Isabella was nowhere in sight.

Just as Evelyn was about to ask, Isabella’s voice rang out behind them.

Evelyn turned to see her best friend waving frantically, mouth moving.

But the helicopter’s noise drowned her out.

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. "What’s she saying? Why isn’t she coming?"