Chapter 983

Harrison knocked gently before entering Nathan Blackwood's office.

The air was thick with tension. Nathan's piercing gaze remained fixed on his computer screen, his jaw clenched as he listened to the report.

Being interrupted clearly displeased him. His cold eyes flicked toward Harrison, sharp enough to cut glass.

Harrison swallowed hard, then mouthed two words. "Preston Sinclair."

Nathan's entire body stilled.

Without hesitation, he ended the video call in French and shut his laptop with a snap.

"Speak."

Harrison exhaled. "Mr. Sinclair is here. He asked if you were available."

Normally, Harrison would have made anyone wait until Nathan finished his meeting.

But Preston Sinclair wasn't just anyone.

If they kept him waiting even a minute, he'd walk out without hesitation.

Nathan's expression darkened. He reached for the cigarette case on his desk, lighting one with deliberate slowness. The smoke curled around him as he exhaled, his voice icy.

"Let him in."

Harrison nodded and stepped out. 'Mr. Blackwood's smoking has gotten worse lately...'

Preston Sinclair was the epitome of composure—always polite, always controlled, no matter the situation.

So when he walked in and found Nathan staring at him like a predator eyeing its prey, he didn’t flinch.

Instead, he smiled. "Mr. Blackwood. It’s been a while."

Nathan’s shirt was slightly undone at the collar, his posture radiating danger. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray, his voice dripping with venom.

"I didn’t think you’d have the guts to show your face here."

He had wanted Preston dead from the moment the man dared to get close to Evelyn.

That he hadn’t succeeded yet didn’t mean he’d given up.

Preston remained unshaken, his smile never wavering. He unbuttoned his suit jacket with effortless grace before taking a seat across from Nathan.

"I’m here on behalf of my girlfriend," he said smoothly. "She’d appreciate it if you stopped sending flowers and gifts. It’s causing unnecessary misunderstandings."

Nathan’s entire body tensed.

"On whose behalf?" His voice was dangerously soft.

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Preston met his gaze head-on, his own expression cool and unreadable.

"My girlfriend."

Each word was deliberate.

He wasn’t afraid.

If he were, he wouldn’t have come.

A faint smirk touched his lips. "Surely you’ve accepted reality by now. Evelyn has nothing to do with you anymore. She’s mine."

Nathan’s control snapped.

His fist slammed onto the desk with a force that made the wood groan. Veins stood out along his forearm as his voice dropped to a lethal whisper.

"Do you really think I won’t make you disappear?"

He knew Preston had connections—knew the Sinclair name carried weight in Pacifica.

But here?

In his city?

Making a man vanish wasn’t difficult.