Chapter 291

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, casting golden streaks across the marble floors. She sipped her lavender-infused tea, her mind wandering as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it happened.

A voice—sharp, unmistakable, and not her own—cut through her thoughts.

"If only Nathan knew what I did with those documents…"

Evelyn nearly choked on her tea. That wasn’t just any voice. That was Victoria Hayes’ voice—Nathan Blackwood’s scheming secretary.

But how?

She wasn’t even in the room.

Evelyn’s pulse quickened as another thought, dripping with smug satisfaction, slithered into her mind.

"By the time he finds out, it’ll be too late. The board will never trust him again."

Her fingers tightened around her cup. This wasn’t just gossip. This was treason.

And somehow… she was hearing it.

A slow smirk curled Evelyn’s lips. If Victoria thought she could sabotage Nathan without consequence, she had another thing coming.

But first—Evelyn needed to test this bizarre new ability.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the mental static around her.

And then…

"Ugh, Preston Whitmore is such a nightmare. Who schedules a 7 AM meeting on a Saturday?"

That was Lillian Graves, her assistant, grumbling from the next room.

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

This wasn’t just a fluke.

She could hear people’s unfiltered thoughts.

And if Victoria’s scheming was any indication, this was going to be deliciously useful.

Nathan Blackwood strode into his office, his tailored suit immaculate, his expression unreadable. But beneath that polished exterior, frustration simmered.

"Another leak. Third one this month. Someone in this company is playing a dangerous game."

Evelyn, perched on the edge of his desk, nearly laughed. Oh, Nathan had no idea how dangerous.

But she did.

And she was about to turn the tables.

"Long night?" she asked innocently, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Nathan’s gaze flicked to her, sharp and assessing. "You could say that."

"Why does she always look at me like she knows something I don’t?"

Evelyn’s grin widened.

Oh, darling. If only you knew.

By lunchtime, Evelyn had compiled a mental list of secrets that could topple empires.

Victoria’s document forgery.

Marcus Donovan’s embezzlement.

Even Preston Whitmore’s very inappropriate crush on his lead actress.

But the pièce de résistance?

Nathan’s own sister, Sophia Blackwood, was secretly funneling company funds into her husband’s failing startup.

Evelyn leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.

This wasn’t just power.

This was leverage.

And she intended to use every last bit of it.

That evening, as she slipped into a sleek black dress for the charity gala, Evelyn caught another whisper of thought—this time, from Nathan himself.

"Why is she so damn irresistible?"

She paused, lipstick hovering mid-application.

Well, well.

This ability just kept getting better.

With a final glance in the mirror, Evelyn smirked.

Time to make some waves.

And oh, how the sharks would circle.

Seriously? Even now, this woman thinks she can manipulate Lucas using her title as his mother? To force him to clean up her mess? She must be completely delusional! Evelyn thought to herself, barely suppressing her disbelief.

Not just Evelyn—nearly everyone present was staring at Penelope as if she had lost her mind.

In response to Penelope’s desperate plea, a cold smirk curled Lucas’s lips.

She had grown so accustomed to his endless concessions in the past that she still couldn’t grasp reality.

"I warned you, didn’t I?" Lucas spoke slowly, his voice dripping with disdain. "She was running with the wrong crowd, but you were too busy blaming me to listen. Maybe this is fate’s way of teaching you a lesson."

Penelope froze, her face twisting with regret. Her pupils trembled—she still couldn’t accept it. Lucas’s gaze had turned glacial. Yes, she loved her children deeply, but her selfishness and stupidity had ruined them.

"What you should be worrying about now is yourself. We still have un business."

Penelope flinched at the sudden shift in Lucas’s tone, instinctively stepping back.

Lydia chimed in, her voice sharp. "Yes, let’s settle the score."

Richard, too, was seething with resentment. Accepting Lucas as his own hadn’t been difficult—after his elder brother’s death, he had been the closest paternal figure in the Winters family. He had always tried to treat Lucas like his own son.

Now, realizing his child had been stolen away for over two decades, guilt consumed him. Without hesitation, he stood firmly by his son’s side.

He took a decisive step forward, and in that moment, the three of them truly became a united front.

The onlookers exchanged knowing glances.

Evelyn watched with satisfaction. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—this family is cut from the same cloth.

Nathan chuckled softly, pleased with the outcome.

Opposite them stood the defeated Penelope and Caleb.

Penelope was stunned—bossing Lucas around had been second nature to her.

But Lucas was no longer the son she could vent her frustrations on.

Her eyes widened in dawning horror as she finally understood—it was over.

Her lips trembled, but before she could speak, Caleb suddenly broke free from his restraints and lunged at her.

"Madwoman! This is all your fault! You've destroyed everything for me! Ruined it all! Why don't you just drop dead? Just die!"

The sudden impact sent the security guards stumbling, unable to hold onto Penelope. She was knocked to the ground, her face contorted in agony. A sharp cough wracked her body before she could even catch her breath, crimson staining her lips.

The crowd gasped, stunned by the scene unfolding before them. Caleb Moore stood over his mother, his eyes blazing with murderous fury. It was clear—his emotions had shattered beyond repair.

Penelope, trembling with indignation, spat back, "I only ever cared for you! But you're just like your father—choosing that wretched Lydia over me!"

"Shut your mouth!" Caleb roared, his voice raw with rage. "Do you think I'm as blind as Lucas? Everything you did was for yourself, not for me. You couldn't handle the truth, so you abandoned me. What kind of mother throws her own son away?"

Tsk, tsk, tsk. Finally, Caleb directed his hatred where it belonged. He knew the root of his suffering—his own birth mother.

Nathan Blackwood glanced over, unsurprised to see Penelope's face drain of color in an instant.

For the first time, the onlookers felt a pang of pity for Caleb.

"A mother who gives her child away has no right to expect love in return."

"And she drove his father to his death. Unforgivable."

"Don’t forget—her lies led her own children into an incestuous nightmare."

"The worst part? It all started with a stolen marriage. Yet she still demanded love from a man she trapped. When he refused, she blamed everyone but herself."

"Disgusting. Absolutely shameless."

"Did she really think she could compete with Lydia? Pathetic. As if Grayson would ever choose her."

"If I were Grayson, I’d have loathed her from the start."

The whispers struck Penelope like lashes, each word carving deeper into her bones, searing her soul. And then there was Caleb—her own son—glaring at her with pure hatred.

In that moment, she aged decades. Yet still, she shook her head violently, denying something only she could name.

There was no need for further spectacle.

Lucas had already signaled the butler to call the police. Tonight’s events—and the sins of twenty years past—would finally face justice.

And the Blackwood family? They wouldn’t let a single transgression slide.

The engagement party had spectacularly imploded. Guests, thoroughly sated with the evening's revelations, were being ushered out by the Winters family with polite but firm efficiency.

Curiously, the reporters Oliver had invited weren’t asked to delete their footage. It was a tacit approval—Lydia Winters was determined to expose the truth, no matter how scandalous. If the world was going to talk, she would make sure they had the full story.

"Won’t this backfire on Lucas and Beatrice?" Evelyn murmured, watching Nathan discreetly instruct security to ensure the reporters omitted any mention of the two.

Nathan turned to her, his expression patient. "Mrs. Lydia is worried that if the story gets twisted, Lucas and Beatrice could be framed. Better to control the narrative now than let our enemies spin it first."

"Rumors spread faster than truth," Daniel Wright remarked, stepping closer.

"Exactly," Vivian Moore agreed, draping an arm over Evelyn’s shoulders with a mischievous grin. "This way, public opinion works in their favor—Lucas securing his inheritance, Beatrice getting formally adopted." She clicked her tongue playfully. "Smart move."

"What?" Evelyn blinked.

Nathan’s gaze dropped to Vivian’s arm around his wife, his brow twitching.

"Oh, come on," Vivian Grant chimed in, looping her own arm through Evelyn’s. "You’re the star of the show tonight. Next time there’s drama, invite me. This was way more entertaining than I expected."

Nathan’s frown deepened.

Evelyn followed Vivian’s gaze and realized—everyone was staring at her.

Her reputation was snowballing: Justice Bringer. Scandal Queen. Was it her fault people kept doing outrageous things in front of her?

The wealthy thrived on drama. The working class? Too busy surviving to indulge in such theatrics.

Seriously? Even now, this woman thinks she can manipulate Lucas using her maternal status? To force him to clean up her mess? She must be drowning in delusion! Evelyn thought, her disbelief almost palpable.

Not just Evelyn, but nearly everyone present was staring at Penelope as if she had lost her mind.

In response to Penelope’s desperate plea, a cold smirk tugged at Lucas’s lips.

She had grown so accustomed to his endless concessions in the past that she still couldn’t grasp reality—even now.

"I warned you, didn’t I?" Lucas spoke slowly, his voice laced with icy detachment. "She was running with the wrong crowd, but you were too busy blaming me to listen. Maybe this is fate’s cruel joke."

Penelope froze, her face twisting with regret. Her pupils trembled, her denial still evident. Lucas’s gaze had turned glacial. Yes, she did love her children—but her selfishness and stupidity had destroyed them.

"What you should be worrying about now is yourself. We still have un business."

Penelope flinched at the sudden venom in his tone, stumbling back a step.

Lydia chimed in, her voice sharp. "Yes, let’s settle the score."

Howard’s resentment burned just as fiercely. Accepting Lucas as his own hadn’t been difficult—after his elder brother’s death, he was the closest paternal figure Lucas had left in the Winters family. He had always tried to treat him like a son.

Now, realizing his child had been stolen from him for over two decades, guilt and fury warred within him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, aligning himself with Lucas and Lydia.

For the first time, they truly stood as a united family.

The onlookers exhaled in quiet awe.

Evelyn watched, satisfied. Like father, like son. This family is terrifyingly alike.

Nathan chuckled softly beside her, equally pleased with the outcome.

Opposite them stood Penelope and Caleb—crushed, cornered, and utterly defeated.

Penelope was stunned. Bossing Lucas around had been second nature to her.

But Lucas was no longer the obedient son she could vent her frustrations on.

Her lips trembled as the realization finally struck—it was over.

Before she could utter another word, Caleb—who had been restrained nearby—suddenly broke free and lunged at her.

The air crackled with tension as Caleb Moore lunged forward, his face twisted in fury. "You insane woman! This is all your fault! You've destroyed everything for me! Ruined it all! Why don't you just die? Just die!"

The security guards, caught off guard by the sudden outburst, lost their grip on Penelope Collins. She stumbled backward, crashing onto the marble floor with a sickening thud. Pain contorted her features as she gasped for breath, a trickle of blood escaping her lips.

The room froze.

Every eye was locked on Caleb, his expression murderous, his body trembling with unchecked rage. It was clear—he had snapped.

Penelope, clutching her chest, spat out between ragged breaths, "I—I was only trying to protect you! But you're just like your father! Both of you would rather choose that wretched Lydia over me!"

A guttural roar tore from Caleb's throat. "Shut your mouth! Do you think I'm as blind as Lucas? Everything you did was for yourself, not for me! You couldn't handle the truth, so you abandoned me! What kind of mother hands her own son to someone else to raise?"

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Finally.

Finally, Caleb had directed his hatred where it belonged—at the woman who had orchestrated his misery.

Nathan Blackwood's gaze flickered toward Penelope, and sure enough, her face had drained of all color.

For the first time, the onlookers felt a pang of sympathy for Caleb.

"Honestly, what did she expect?" someone muttered. "Giving your child away and then demanding loyalty?"

"And she killed his father. Who does that?"

"Don’t forget she practically engineered an incestuous relationship between her own children through sheer negligence."

"The worst part? All of this started because she stole a marriage. And yet she still had the audacity to demand love from a man who never wanted her."

"Pathetic."

"Did she really think she could compete with Lydia? Please. Even Jared wasn’t that blind."

The whispers struck Penelope like lashes, each one carving deeper into her pride. And then there was Caleb—her own son—glaring at her with pure loathing.

She looked decades older in an instant.

But still, she shook her head violently, as if denial could rewrite the past.

There was no need for further theatrics.

Lucas Thornton had already signaled for the police. Whether it was tonight’s disaster or the sins from twenty years ago—justice would be served.

And the Blackwoods?

They weren’t the forgiving type.

The engagement party had spectacularly imploded. Guests, drunk on scandal and intrigue, were being ushered out by the Winters family with polite but firm efficiency.

Oddly enough, the reporters Oliver had invited weren’t forced to delete their footage. It was as if the family had silently given their blessing—no, more than that. It was a calculated move.

Lydia Winters was determined to expose the truth, no matter how ugly. If the world was going to talk, they might as well hear the full story—who her son really was, and who had orchestrated this tragedy from the shadows.

Evelyn watched as Nathan discreetly instructed his men to ensure the reporters omitted any mention of Lucas and Beatrice.

"Won’t this backfire on them?" she asked, frowning.

Nathan turned to her, his expression unreadable. "If the full truth isn’t out there, people will twist the narrative. They’ll paint Lucas and Beatrice as villains, and both families will suffer for it. Better to control the story now than let our enemies spin it first."

"Rumors spread faster than fire," Daniel added, stepping closer. "Once they take hold, they’re impossible to stamp out."

Vivian slung an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders, grinning. "Exactly. This way, they shape public opinion in their favor. Pave the way for Lucas to take over the family and Beatrice to be formally adopted." She winked. "Clever, isn’t it?"

Then she tilted her head, studying Evelyn with amusement. "What?"

Nathan’s gaze flicked to Vivian’s arm, his jaw tightening.

"Oh, come on," Vivian laughed. "Haven’t you noticed? You’re the star of the show."

Vivian Grant sidled up on Evelyn’s other side, looping her arm through hers with a conspiratorial smirk. "Next time there’s drama, invite me. This was way more entertaining than I expected."

Nathan’s frown deepened as he eyed the two women clinging to his wife.

Evelyn followed Vivian’s gaze and realized—every eye in the room was on her. The weight of their stares was almost palpable.

Justice Upholder. Gossip Queen. The titles kept piling up. But was it really her fault? If people didn’t do scandalous things, there’d be no scandals to uncover.

The rich and famous thrived on drama. It was inevitable. Ordinary people were too busy surviving to indulge in theatrics, but the elite? Their lives were a never-ending spectacle.

Gossip wasn’t just entertainment—it was sustenance. And right now, the hunger in the room was ravenous.

Nathan’s patience snapped. He stepped forward, using the back of his hand to gently (but firmly) dislodge Vivian and Vivian from Evelyn’s sides. His broad frame blocked most of the stares as he pulled Evelyn close, shielding her from the prying eyes.