Chapter 959

The question caught Evelyn off guard. "Bennett's already married."

She distinctly remembered Bennett taking wedding leave not long ago.

Preston chuckled.

"What a shame. I was going to set him up with someone."

Evelyn frowned. "Why haven't you mentioned this before?"

"Must've slipped my mind. Too much going on lately..."

She moved toward the door. "I'm heading out now. You should come downstairs too."

"Wait."

Preston plucked a single flower from the vase in the living room and approached her. Evelyn's pulse quickened.

The delicate Swiss lily was held up before her eyes.

"Consider this my peace offering for that mess at the airport earlier."

Those shoes were probably already on display at the museum by now. The curator had called earlier, gushing with gratitude over their "generous donation."

Evelyn accepted the flower with a small smile. "Thank you."

Out of all his extravagant gifts, this was the most normal one.

Preston knelt to help her with her shoes.

She couldn't resist his persistence. But he made it seem effortless, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

Once he finished, he rose, his warm gaze alight with something deeper. "Evelyn, I have a question."

She met his eyes.

"When do I get to kiss you?"

Her reflection shimmered in his eyes. Every time Preston looked at her, he had to fight the urge to close the distance between them. He held back—always—because he feared startling her, feared she wasn't ready.

Just now, kneeling before her, he had imagined them as husband and wife in some domestic scene. The thought only intensified the ache in his chest. So he asked.

Evelyn blinked, cheeks flushing. Silence stretched between them.

Preston wasn’t letting her off that easily. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping her. The warmth of his scent wrapped around her, dizzying. She snapped out of it quickly, pressing a hand lightly against his chest.

"Then you'll have to wait for me to ask—" she said hastily.

Preston arched a brow. "Ask who?"

"My father."

His expression froze. Before he could respond, Evelyn turned and bolted. She was messing with him.

If she actually asked William Sterling, the man would probably grab his fishing rod and chase Preston halfway across Montecito.

Preston chuckled, shaking his head—until his phone buzzed. The moment he saw the caller ID, his smile vanished.

He answered. "Uncle Isaiah?"

Isaiah Sinclair's voice dripped with amusement. "I'm in Montecito. Care to meet, nephew?"

Preston's eyes darkened, frost creeping into his tone. "Of course."

"By the way, I've met that Ms. Sterling you're so fond of. Good taste. Beautiful, wealthy—not an easy catch, is she?"

Preston hung up without another word.

He had no patience for Isaiah's games. There was no affection between them to begin with.

Sterling Enterprises

Alexander had called an emergency meeting after a major incident on one of their projects.

By the time Evelyn arrived, he had already spent half an hour grilling two supervisors.

Both men looked pale, their hands trembling. Whatever had been said in that room had shaken them to the core.

Alexander's voice was ice. "This is the company's final decision. You're both terminated. Settle your affairs with HR and leave with what dignity you have left."