Chapter 930

Evelyn was about to give a vague response. Knowing Preston's character, he wouldn't humiliate a woman like this.

But then she snatched his phone, entered the passcode, and opened his messages.

She searched for Cassandra's name—nothing.

Evelyn shot him a sideways glance. Preston smiled, unbothered. "Adding her was just politeness. The least I could do was delete her afterward."

Cassandra's face paled. She hadn't expected Preston to be so brutally honest.

She already knew he'd deleted her contact. Her multiple friend requests had gone ignored. But she hadn't anticipated a public confrontation.

Now, she'd truly backed herself into a corner.

Evelyn handed the phone back to Preston and gave Cassandra a frosty once-over.

Her lips curled in disdain. "Ms. Blake, I can recommend an excellent psychiatric facility specializing in delusional disorders."

Cassandra inhaled sharply, ready to retaliate—but Evelyn had already turned away.

She wasn't wasting another second on trash.

Face twisted in fury, Cassandra rushed after Preston as he moved to leave. She blinked up at him, lips trembling in a practiced pout. A blatant attempt at seduction.

"Mr. Sinclair, I don't understand what I did wrong. Why is Ms. Sinclair so upset? I only wanted to apologize and explain—"

Preston cut her off, voice icy.

"Drop the act. Desperate women will do anything for attention." Each word was a slap. Preston had pieced together how this woman had provoked Evelyn. Given the occasion, Evelyn had shown restraint—granting Cassandra a shred of dignity.

But Preston refused to let his woman swallow such disrespect. So he ripped off the mask and let Cassandra choke on the truth. His manners were reserved for equals—not wasted on insignificant pawns.

Without another glance, he walked away to find Evelyn.

Cassandra stood rooted, cheeks burning. No matter how thick-skinned she was, a man's outright rejection stung. She seethed inwardly. Two-faced bastard—just like Evelyn!

Nearby men, drawn by her revealing dress, approached with smirks. Swallowing her pride, Cassandra forced a smile and engaged.

Meanwhile, Evelyn stood surrounded by guests—all influential figures who greeted her with genuine respect. Their admiration was for her presence, not her body.

Cassandra's grip tightened around her glass. Life wasn't fair.

A waiter approached. "Ms. Blake, the dresses for Miss Crest have arrived. Would you like to inspect them?"

Cassandra's gaze darkened. "I'll choose for her."

By the time Evelyn finished mingling, Cassandra had vanished. She shrugged it off.

Preston studied her. "Still upset about earlier?"

Evelyn arched a brow. "Annoyed, yes. But the more miserable she is, the better I feel."

Amusement flickered in his eyes. "Want me to have a word with Pacific Crest's CEO? Get her fired?"

Evelyn shot him a look. "Abusing power for petty revenge? Didn't take you for the type."

She'd assumed a man of his principles was above such games.