Chapter 259

The moment Evelyn Sinclair stepped into the grand ballroom, all eyes turned toward her. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the room, illuminating the sea of elegantly dressed guests. But none shone as brightly as Evelyn in her midnight-blue gown, the delicate sequins catching the light with every graceful movement.

Nathan Blackwood stood near the balcony, his piercing gaze locked onto her. He had known she would come—had willed her to—but seeing her now, poised and radiant, sent an unexpected jolt through him. His fingers tightened around his glass of whiskey, the ice clinking softly.

"Mr. Blackwood," Victoria Hayes murmured beside him, her voice laced with thinly veiled irritation. "Shouldn’t you be mingling with the investors?"

Nathan barely spared her a glance. "Later."

Victoria’s lips thinned, but she said nothing more. She knew better than to push him when he was in this mood.

Across the room, Evelyn felt the weight of Nathan’s stare like a physical touch. She resisted the urge to look his way, focusing instead on the conversation with Serena Whitmore, her ever-loyal agent.

"You’re causing quite the stir," Serena whispered, nodding subtly toward the whispers trailing in Evelyn’s wake.

Evelyn smirked. "Good. Let them talk."

But her confidence wavered when she spotted her—Margaret Blackwood, Nathan’s mother, watching her with an unreadable expression. The matriarch of the Blackwood family was a formidable woman, and Evelyn had no illusions about where she stood in Margaret’s eyes.

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Nathan appeared before her.

"Evelyn." His voice was low, intimate, sending a shiver down her spine despite herself.

"Nathan," she replied coolly. "Enjoying the party?"

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "More now that you’re here."

Serena discreetly excused herself, leaving them in a bubble of tension.

Evelyn arched a brow. "Flattery won’t work on me."

Nathan leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. "Then what will?"

Before she could retort, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began a slow, haunting melody. Guests paired off for the dance, and Nathan extended his hand.

"Dance with me."

It wasn’t a request.

Evelyn hesitated—just for a second—before placing her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, electricity crackled between them.

As they moved across the floor, the world narrowed to just the two of them. Nathan’s grip was firm, his body a solid presence against hers.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he murmured.

"You noticed," she quipped.

His jaw tightened. "I always notice when it comes to you."

The raw honesty in his voice caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to respond, but the music swelled, and Nathan spun her in a graceful arc, silencing her.

When the song ended, he didn’t release her. Instead, his fingers tightened around hers.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Evelyn’s pulse raced. About what? The past? The future? The unspoken things between them that neither dared to voice?

Before she could ask, a sharp voice cut through the moment.

"Nathan." Margaret stood nearby, her expression icy. "A word."

Nathan’s grip on Evelyn loosened, but his gaze remained locked onto hers. "This isn’t over."

Evelyn watched him walk away, her heart pounding.

No. It wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Vivian rolled her eyes, ready to fire back a sarcastic remark when she noticed the uncertain glances exchanged among the onlookers.

Gwendolyn, too, had gone rigid beside her.

For a moment, Vivian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Is my sister seriously worried I have feelings for her?

Gwendolyn was genuinely stunned. After all, she barely knew Vivian compared to Grayson. She had no way of telling whether his accusation held any truth.

It was strange how warmly Vivian had treated her from the moment they met.

Looking back now, though they’d felt an instant connection, Vivian’s overwhelming kindness had left her slightly bewildered.

Not to mention the guilt gnawing at her. She’d liked men before, but this? This was different. Never had she felt such an inexplicable pull toward another woman—especially one she’d just met.

So yes, she was flustered.

Evelyn and Nathan knew the truth, of course. They just weren’t sure if Vivian would reveal it now.

They say blood recognizes blood—that even strangers bound by family feel an instinctive pull. But if misunderstood, that bond could spiral into something messy.

Evelyn’s thoughts drifted before snapping back to the scene unfolding before her.

Vivian, meanwhile, had made up her mind—though it wasn’t how she’d planned to do this.

In one swift motion, she flung the documents in her hand straight at Grayson’s face.

"Open your damn eyes and read this, you idiot! What kind of delusional nonsense have you cooked up in that head of yours? Of course I care about her more than you!"

Without waiting for his reaction, she turned to Gwendolyn, her expression softening.

"Gwen, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you privately, but thanks to this moron"—she jerked a thumb at Grayson—"we’re doing it here. If we don’t clear this up now, people might actually believe his ridiculous accusations. I don’t care what they think of me, but I won’t let him tarnish your reputation."

She took a deep breath.

"You’re my half-sister. Same mother, different fathers."

Silence.

Then chaos.

The revelation hit like a thunderclap.

Murmurs erupted, disbelief thick in the air.

"Wait—the girl Grayson hired as Vivian’s stand-in is actually her sister?"

"Same mother, different fathers? So they share a mom? Hold on—my brain’s short-circuiting. This is insane."

The whispers grew louder, the shock rippling through the crowd.

Grayson, still clutching the papers Vivian had thrown at him, paled.

And Gwendolyn?

She stood frozen, her world tilting on its axis.

The conversation was abruptly cut short by Grayson's shocked exclamation. "This can't be!"

Eyes turned toward him as someone quickly deciphered the document in his hands.

"It's a DNA report. They're biologically related."

"I always thought they looked eerily similar."

"Damn, this is... explosive."

While Evelyn and Nathan remained composed, the rest of the group surged forward, crowding around Grayson.

"It's true!" Marcus gasped, eyes wide.

"Today just keeps getting crazier." Vivian and Lucas exchanged stunned glances. Could fate really be this twisted?

Lucas's lips twitched in disbelief. Just weeks ago, Grayson had been scheming against the two women. Now this?

Beatrice gasped, "Vivian, did your family lose a child?"

Gwendolyn recoiled, shaking her head. "No—that's impossible. I had parents. I—"

The revelation hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless.

Vivian grasped Gwendolyn's trembling hands, voice thick with emotion. "Your mother was my birth mother. The woman I call Mom now is my stepmother. Few know this back home. The moment I saw you, I knew. Blood recognizes blood. I had my doubts, so I took a strand of your hair for testing. There's no mistake. We are sisters."

Her grip tightened, desperation creeping into her tone. "Don't you want me as family? Your parents are gone—I'm all you have left. God, if only I'd found you sooner. All those years in that orphanage..." A tear slipped free. "But I swear, no one will hurt you again."

Her investigation into Gwendolyn's past had revealed chilling parallels.

At five, Vivian's mother vanished. At four, Gwendolyn's died. Neither truly knew a mother's love. Sisters in sorrow.

Yet Vivian had a doting father and stepmother, raised in luxury. Meanwhile, Gwendolyn grew up in a cold orphanage, fighting for every scrap of kindness.

The thought of her sister reduced to being a paid stand-in shattered Vivian's heart.

The usually flamboyant socialite now gazed at Gwendolyn with raw tenderness.

Gwendolyn's resistance crumbled. That inexplicable pull toward Vivian? Blood calling to blood.

Maybe... maybe this wasn't so hard to accept after all.

It felt like the heavens had dropped an unexpected gift into her lap.

Gwendolyn Brooks was overwhelmed by a storm of emotions, leaving her momentarily speechless.

"Don't you want me as your sister?" Vivian Moore's voice softened, playing the wounded card perfectly.

Gwendolyn shook her head quickly. "No, that's not—"

Then she froze, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

Oh no.

"Call me Viv," Vivian murmured, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, lips trembling ever so slightly—as if she were holding back a flood of joy.

Gwendolyn hesitated. Under Vivian's hopeful gaze, she finally whispered, "Viv."

Instantly, tears welled in Vivian's eyes.

None of their friends had ever seen Vivian like this—vulnerable, emotional, raw.

They were stunned into silence.

As Vivian's tears spilled over, Gwendolyn's own eyes burned. It was as if she could physically feel her sister's emotions, and her throat tightened.

"Gwen!" Vivian's voice was thick with emotion before she pulled Gwendolyn into a crushing embrace.

It was a picture-perfect moment of sisterly love.

Yet, aside from shock and confusion, most of the onlookers didn’t fully grasp Vivian’s reaction.

After all, an ordinary person wouldn’t easily accept that their mother had another child.

But Vivian was anything but ordinary.

She had long accepted that she would never marry or have children of her own. To suddenly discover a sister—one as sweet and kindred as Gwendolyn—was nothing short of a miracle.

Look at her! Vivian thought, heart swelling. She’s perfect. So gentle, so accepting. Like she was meant to be mine all along.

Evelyn Sinclair watched, genuinely moved. She began clapping, celebrating their reunion.

The crowd’s attention shifted to her. Seeing Evelyn and Nathan Blackwood applauding, others gradually joined in, their applause filling the room.

"Congratulations on finding each other!" Evelyn beamed.

Vivian immediately thanked everyone on Gwendolyn’s behalf. "This is my little sister," she declared proudly, ruffling Gwendolyn’s hair affectionately. "Remember her face!"

Gwendolyn still felt dazed, as if everything had happened in the blink of an eye.

The moment Evelyn turned to face the disoriented Grayson, her heart pounded violently in her chest. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to slice with a knife.

Grayson blinked, his usually sharp gaze clouded with confusion. "What did you just say?" His voice was rough, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn't believe his own ears.

Evelyn's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in her head, yet now that it was here, the words lodged in her throat like shards of glass.

"Your mother," she repeated, forcing each syllable out with deliberate precision, "is my biological mother."

A deafening silence followed. Grayson's face drained of color, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but no sound came out. The revelation hung between them like a guillotine, poised to sever whatever fragile connection they had left.

Evelyn exhaled shakily. She had expected anger, denial—anything but this stunned silence. But then, she had never imagined this truth would come to light under such circumstances.

Grayson staggered back a step, his hand flying to his temple as if struck by a sudden migraine. "That's impossible," he muttered, though the doubt in his voice was unmistakable.

"Is it?" Evelyn countered, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "Then explain why Margaret kept this from you. From both of us."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a man who always had a quick retort, Grayson was uncharacteristically speechless.

Evelyn pressed on, her tone softening just a fraction. "I didn’t want to believe it either. But the evidence is undeniable."

Grayson's eyes darkened, his fingers raking through his hair in frustration. "If you're lying—"

"I'm not," she cut in sharply. "And if you dare spread rumors about my sister again, I swear, Grayson, I'll break every bone in your body before you can blink."

The threat hung in the air, raw and unyielding. For the first time, Grayson seemed to truly see her—not as the woman he'd once dismissed, but as someone who had been fighting battles he knew nothing about.

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. "Damn it, Evelyn," he rasped. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

She didn’t have an answer.

And that terrified her more than anything.