Chapter 163

The moment Evelyn Sinclair stepped into the grand ballroom, all eyes turned toward her. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the opulent space, but none of it compared to the way Nathan Blackwood’s gaze burned into her from across the room.

She had expected this event to be just another tedious charity gala—another obligation in her packed schedule. But the second she spotted Nathan, standing tall and commanding in his tailored black tuxedo, her pulse quickened.

Why does he always have this effect on me?

Victoria Hayes, Nathan’s ever-watchful secretary, stood beside him, her lips pressed into a thin line as she whispered something in his ear. Evelyn didn’t miss the way Victoria’s fingers lingered on his arm—a possessive gesture that made her jaw tighten.

Serena Whitmore, Evelyn’s ever-loyal agent, nudged her gently. "You’re glaring," she murmured. "Try to look like you’re enjoying yourself."

Evelyn forced a smile, but her attention remained fixed on Nathan. He excused himself from Victoria and began making his way toward her, his stride confident, his expression unreadable.

"Evelyn," he greeted, his voice low and smooth. "You look stunning."

Her breath hitched. Even now, after everything, his words still sent a thrill through her. "Nathan," she replied, keeping her tone light. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

His lips curved into a smirk. "I could say the same about you."

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began playing a slow, haunting melody. Nathan extended his hand. "Dance with me."

It wasn’t a request.

Evelyn hesitated, but the challenge in his eyes was too much to resist. She placed her hand in his, and the moment their fingers touched, electricity sparked between them.

As they moved across the dance floor, his grip on her waist was firm, his body pressed close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. "You’ve been avoiding me," he murmured against her ear.

Her heart pounded. "I’ve been busy."

"Too busy to return my calls?" His tone was teasing, but there was an edge beneath it—something darker, something possessive.

She swallowed hard. "We both know this—whatever this is—can’t go anywhere."

Nathan’s grip tightened imperceptibly. "Who says?"

Before she could answer, the music swelled, and he spun her in a graceful arc, pulling her back against his chest. The world blurred around them, leaving only the two of them in that moment.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the song ended. The lights brightened, and reality crashed back in.

Nathan released her, but his gaze never wavered. "This conversation isn’t over."

Evelyn opened her mouth to respond, but a commotion near the entrance caught her attention.

Vincent Holloway, the notorious playboy, had just arrived—and he wasn’t alone.

Daphne, his sharp-eyed aunt, followed closely behind, her expression unreadable. But it was the woman on Vincent’s arm who made Evelyn’s blood run cold.

Seraphina Delacroix.

The second-tier actress who had once been entangled with Sebastian Hart—Nathan’s closest friend.

Nathan’s jaw clenched as he took in the sight. "What the hell is she doing here?"

Evelyn didn’t have an answer. But one thing was certain—the night had just taken a dangerous turn.

And the real game was about to begin.

For the first time, Vivienne had spoken with such cutting harshness, leaving her mother utterly speechless. In Adriana’s mind, her daughter would never dare to abandon her—until now.

“What’s all this drama? Once your cousin turns a profit, he’ll pay you back,” Victor snapped, his expression dark with irritation.

Vivienne let out a bitter laugh, her voice dripping with disdain. “That failure? You’re still deluding yourself? I’d bet every last penny is already gone.”

The truth, laid bare, sent a flush of humiliation and fury across Adriana and Victor’s faces.

“So what if he lost money? He can earn it back. Must you make such a scene?” Victor growled.

“That was my money,” Vivienne shot back, her tone icy. “How dare you act so entitled. I won’t waste another second arguing. Leave now. If my money isn’t returned by tomorrow, expect legal action.”

The steel in Vivienne’s voice sent panic coursing through both Adriana and Victor.

Adriana clutched at her daughter’s arm, desperation creeping into her voice. “Vivienne, please—we don’t have the funds. Your cousin invested everything. Even if you dragged him here by the collar, he couldn’t return a cent. Can’t we just move past this? I swear we’ll repay you—just give him time. A year—no, three years!”

Just then, the hospital room door swung open. Gabriel stepped inside, his face ashen, one arm cradled against his chest. His wide, trembling eyes locked onto Vivienne and her parents, lips parting soundlessly.

Evelyn stifled a dark chuckle.

Oh, Gabriel. That look on your face—priceless.

You’ve realized it, haven’t you? Vivienne’s accounts are empty. No matter how hard you try—even if you play the blackmailer with those stolen photos—you won’t squeeze a single dime from her. How does it feel, knowing all your scheming was for nothing?

Julian, too, watched with quiet amusement as Gabriel struggled to form words.

The man’s jaw worked uselessly, his frustration mounting until veins bulged at his temples.

“What—what did you do to her?” Gabriel finally choked out, his voice strangled as he glared at Adriana and Victor.

To an outsider, it might have sounded like protective fury. But Vivienne remained eerily composed.

“Gabriel,” she said coolly, “when we were together, why did you take those photos of me without my consent? Was it you who leaked them?”

The air in the room turned to ice.

All eyes instantly snapped toward Gabriel. Though many in the room remained baffled, realization quickly dawned—Vivienne’s suicide attempt might not have been as simple as it appeared.

"What photos? What do you mean they were taken without your consent?" Claire demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.

Gabriel hadn’t expected Vivienne to recklessly expose this matter in front of everyone.

A flicker of panic crossed his face before he schooled his features into practiced innocence. "Vivienne, I swear I didn’t know. My phone was off earlier—I was swamped with work. The moment I heard what happened to you, I turned it on and saw your messages. I wasn’t ignoring you. I had no idea any of this was going on."

His acting is truly award-worthy, Julian thought bitterly, his fists clenching at his sides.

Vivienne’s gaze bore into Gabriel, heavy with betrayal. "You didn’t answer my question. Why would you do this?"

"Gabriel, what exactly did you do?" Claire’s voice trembled with rising fury.

Isabelle, however, caught on first, her eyes widening in shock. "Wait—are you talking about those scandalous photos circulating online?"

Vivienne flinched, her breath hitching as she turned to Isabelle. "The internet…?"

Isabelle quickly pulled out her phone, showing Vivienne the screen. "They’re just some suggestive shots. Even if they are of you, it’s nothing we can’t handle with some PR. There’s no need for you to—"

To Isabelle, this was just another minor scandal in the entertainment world—nothing worth dying over.

But when Vivienne saw the same photos she’d been blackmailed with, confusion flickered through her. Had her suicide attempt caused such an uproar that the blackmailer backed off?

"Let me see." Claire snatched the phone, her expression darkening instantly. Remembering Vivienne’s earlier words, she whirled on Gabriel, her voice icy. "Did you take these photos?"

Though Claire meant to ask if Gabriel was behind the leak, the guilt-ridden man paled, his legs nearly buckling beneath him.

Adriana and Edward sensed the shift and rushed over to look. The moment they saw the images, their faces twisted in horror.

Adriana gasped, her voice dripping with disdain. "Vivienne, what were you thinking? How could you disgrace yourself like this?"

The room collectively stiffened at her words.

Seriously? Had they not been listening at all? How could they still blame Vivienne when the truth was staring them in the face?

Evelyn couldn’t hold back. "Mrs. Monroe, your bias is showing. You always favor outsiders over your own daughter. It’s like anyone matters more to you than she does."

Adriana blinked, momentarily speechless, but Edward—face flushed with anger—snapped back, "How dare you speak to us like that?"

"What absolute rubbish are you spouting!" Adriana's voice cracked like a whip through the tense air.

"Did I strike a nerve?" Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her manicured finger tapping the damning photograph. "This evidence clearly shows your daughter was violated in her most vulnerable state. Yet instead of protecting her, you're berating the victim? How... illuminating."

Adriana's face cycled through shades of crimson before settling into ashen gray. "As her mother, I have every right to correct her poor choices! This mess is entirely of her own making."

Nathan exchanged a loaded glance with Gabriel. Though displeased with the younger man, he redirected his fury toward Vivienne. "Such disgraceful behavior!"

"She's a consenting adult in a relationship. Since when is intimacy a crime?" Evelyn countered sharply. "The real offense here is the violation of privacy—being photographed without knowledge or permission."

Gabriel's jaw tightened visibly.

Vivienne, however, cut through the tension like shattered glass. "My only mistake was trusting the wrong man. Therefore, this concerns none of you." Her wild, furious gaze pinned Gabriel. "Save your breath and start liquidating assets. Did you think I'd let sixty million vanish without consequence? Death has already brushed my shoulder—do you imagine I fear anything now?"

Adriana and Nathan gaped at their daughter. They'd anticipated tearful pleas for protection, not this feral defiance that left them speechless.

Vivienne turned her full attention to Gabriel, her disheveled appearance belying the steel in her voice. "Explain this."

Gabriel swallowed hard. "Vivi, I swear I never intended—"

"Save your oaths for someone who still believes them," she spat.

His fingers twitched toward her before curling into fists. "Those photos... I took them privately when we were together. My phone was stolen weeks ago—this must be how they leaked. I'd never—"

Vivienne's bitter laugh cut him off. "Oh, but there's more." She pulled out her phone with trembling hands. "They sent videos too. First the photos as warning, then a sixty-million-dollar demand. Their terms were quite explicit—pay or they'd flood the dark web with footage, ensuring I'd never show my face in decent society again."

The blood drained from Gabriel's face as Vivienne continued, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Tell me, Gabriel—how exactly does one accidentally film their lover sleeping?"