Chapter 390

Thaddeus retreated to his private study, waiting for Gordon's arrival.

The words the young maid had whispered to him lingered in his mind. Standing by the window, cigarette smoke curling around him, his gaze was dark and unreadable—yet his pulse hammered violently in his chest. So, she had been in secret contact with Evadne all this time?

Why?

Evadne, what were you planning? Why did you always manage to unsettle him like this?

A sharp knock at the door shattered his thoughts. Thaddeus exhaled smoke, flicking ashes from his cigarette with rough fingers. The door swung open, and Gordon strode in, shutting it firmly behind him. He extended a folded note with both hands.

"Mr. Thaddeus, this is the address Erica gave me. She'll be meeting Ms. Evadne there tonight."

Thaddeus' fingers tightened around the cigarette, the paper trembling slightly in his grip.

He took the note, scanned the address, and committed it to memory.

"What else did she say?"

Gordon shook his head. "Sir, I suspect she might be a spy planted by Ms. Evadne within the Abernathy household."

"Of course she is," Thaddeus rasped, crumpling the note in his fist.

Evadne—always moving pieces behind his back, manipulating events right under his nose.

"What does Ms. Evadne want?"

Gordon's eyes lit up. "Wait—could it be she still has feelings for you? Maybe she left a spy to keep tabs on you! If that's true, then Mrs. Abernathy still cares, sir! That's fantastic news!"

Thaddeus shot him a withering glare, the smoke he exhaled thick with exasperation.

He wasn't arrogant enough to believe Evadne would go to such lengths over lingering affection. The Ashbourne heiress was ruthless, ambitious—she didn't waste time on sentiment.

There was only one explanation.

Something within the Abernathy estate had caught her attention—something she couldn't ignore.

Was it about Myra? Was she still plotting revenge against Elspeth?

If so, why had Erica exposed their plan to him today? They could have kept it hidden.

Unless they wanted his help.

Thaddeus' eyes darkened, a surge of protectiveness igniting in his chest.

"Sir, should I accompany you tonight?" Gordon asked, concern lacing his voice.

Thaddeus shook his head. "No. Erica only invited me. That means they don't want others involved."

Gordon hesitated. "But what if Mrs. Abernathy doesn't know you're coming? If this is just Erica's idea, she might be furious when she sees you."

"Then I'll follow from a distance."

The hardness in Thaddeus' gaze softened at the thought of Evadne. "She’s always stirring trouble. I can’t take my eyes off her."

At precisely nine o'clock, Glynnis slipped out of Windermere Estate through the back door, dressed in black, a baseball cap pulled low over her face.

The moment her cab disappeared into the night, a sleek black car emerged from the shadows.

"Ms. Glynnis, should we tail her?"

The driver—Elspeth's most trusted enforcer—spoke in a monotone. His loyalty was unquestionable, his hands stained with blood from years of dirty work. Tonight, he was at Glynnis' disposal.

"No need. Tonight, that traitor gets what she deserves. If we follow too closely, we risk being caught on camera." Glynnis smirked, having learned well from her mother.

"Understood. I'll await Madam's signal." Mr. Ward replied mechanically.

"How do you plan to handle it?"

Glynnis tilted her head, feigning indifference. "Is Mother planning to make her disappear temporarily—or permanently?"

"Madam prefers permanent solutions."

"How ruthless."

"Without ruthlessness, would you be living this life, Ms. Glynnis?"

Glynnis' lips twisted in irritation.

Elspeth schemed because she had to—to climb from mistress to matriarch.

But Glynnis was different. She was Frederic's blood, the true Abernathy heir.

She was sick of being called foolish.

This time, she'd prove herself.

"Mr. Ward, I have an idea." She leaned forward, malice dripping from her words. "Instead of stopping Erica, why not let her meet Evadne? Then we take them both out at once."

Mr. Ward studied her. "And you're certain Erica is Evadne's spy?"

"Absolutely. Thaddeus wouldn't stoop to this. And if she were his, why risk sneaking out?"

A slow nod. "So you want me to eliminate Evadne?"

Glynnis' heart raced—fear, excitement, anticipation.

Killing Evadne was a fantasy she'd savored.

But Evadne was Emeric Ashbourne's daughter. If she died, he'd burn the world to find her killer.

Yet tonight—Evadne was vulnerable.

"Do you dare?"

Mr. Ward smirked. "I've killed before. One more means nothing."

Glynnis' eyes gleamed. "Then tonight will be Evadne's last."

Evadne and Jason waited in the deserted west district park.

With her status, public meetings were risky—Erica’s safety was paramount. Jason checked his watch, tension coiling in his muscles. "She's late. Something's wrong."

Evadne frowned.

"Miss, do you think Erica found something crucial about Elspeth?"

"We'll know when she arrives."

Footsteps—frantic, uneven—echoed through the darkness.

"Ms. Evadne! Run!"

Erica stumbled toward them, face pale, sweat soaking her back. "They followed me! They know you're here! Go—now!"

Evadne caught her, grip firm. "I won't let them hurt you."

Before she could finish, shadows closed in.

Jason moved instantly, shielding them, fists clenched.

Erica trembled, but Evadne stood firm, eyes locked on the three men in black.

Their leader—Mr. Ward—stepped forward.

Evadne assessed him instantly. A killer.

"Who are you?" Jason snarled.

Mr. Ward ignored him, staring at Evadne. "You must be Ms. Evadne."

"I am."

"Beautiful. A shame."

Evadne's blood boiled.

Audacious bastard.

"So Elspeth sent you to kill me?"

"You meddle in affairs that aren't yours. Now you pay."

Evadne laughed—sharp, fearless. "Then make sure you kill me. Because if you fail, I'll make sure you—and whoever hides behind you—die screaming."

Mr. Ward chuckled. Empty threats.

"Miss, go!" Jason urged.

Evadne shoved Erica away. "I'm staying."

Jason met her gaze—fierce, unyielding.

Loyalty beyond death.

Erica turned to flee—only to find two more men blocking her path.

Trapped.

"Make it quick." Mr. Ward tilted his head. "I'll handle Evadne myself."

Jason lunged, fists flying. But outnumbered, outmatched—blood sprayed as blades found flesh.

A knife buried in his shoulder, twisted viciously.

Jason screamed.

Evadne snapped an assailant's arm, snatched his blade, and drove it into another.

Mr. Ward watched, amused.

She was impressive. A pity.

Evadne fought toward Jason—then froze.

Cold steel pressed against her back.

"Miss!" Jason roared.

The dagger rose—death descending.

A black Lamborghini screeched to a halt.

Thaddeus stormed toward the park, phone pressed to his ear.

"Gordon, send backup. Now."

The call had come from Erica—cut short by a scream.

Evadne was in danger.

His heart pounded.

Fate bound them—whether by love or war, he couldn't say.

But he wouldn't let her die.