Chapter 375

Evelyn let out a soft chuckle. "Your pupils dilated the moment I asked you that question. That tells me everything."

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "And the hesitation before you answered? That was the real giveaway."

"I already told you—no!"

The man's composure shattered. His body tensed, muscles coiling as if he were about to lunge at her.

But before he could move, two men in black suits pinned him to the ground.

Evelyn blinked, startled for only a second before regaining her poise. She rose gracefully, her gaze cool as she looked down at him.

"Whether it's fear or loyalty driving you, ask yourself this—do you really have the power to protect them?" Her voice was soft, almost pitying. "You saw what happened to the Whitmores. You orchestrated it. So tell me, do you think you're untouchable?"

The man lay motionless, his hollow stare fixed on some distant point. Whether he had surrendered or simply run out of fight, it was impossible to tell.

Nathan stepped forward, sliding an arm around Evelyn's shoulders. He glanced at Oliver. "Keep him under surveillance. Let him stew on it for a while."

Oliver nodded.

Once outside, Nathan abruptly swept Evelyn into his arms, carrying her to the car. He deposited her onto the seat, then caged her in, one arm braced against the headrest.

His fingers tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. A slow, dangerous smirk curled his lips.

"Zoe," he murmured, "since when did you learn to read people like that?"

Evelyn arched a brow. "Why wouldn't I know?"

Nathan's gaze burned into her, intense and unrelenting. She turned her face slightly, exhaling.

"Liam has a thing for psychology books. I skim them sometimes when I'm bored. So—mmph!"

His lips crashed against hers, swallowing her words. By the time he pulled back, she was breathless.

Nathan traced her swollen lower lip with his thumb, his chuckle low and satisfied. "My wife is brilliant. What a treasure I've found."

Evelyn shoved him lightly and buckled her seatbelt. "I was bluffing. He gave himself away."

Nathan smirked. "That old fool thought you weren't fit to be a Goldmann. Biggest mistake of his life."

Her tone turned sharp. "In his eyes, Rosalind would've been the perfect choice."

"Jealous again?" Amusement danced in his eyes.

Evelyn ignored him. "What if he never talks?"

"We already know who's pulling the strings. His confession doesn't matter." Nathan leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. His breath stirred the strands of hair framing her face. "Panic spreads. And when it does, she'll slip up."

The next day, at Blackgold Group

Rosalind approached the administrative office, her hand raised to knock—when a familiar voice stopped her cold.

"Ms. Summers."

Evelyn strode toward her, heels clicking against the marble floor.

Rosalind's expression darkened, though she forced a polite smile. "Ms. Vanderbilt. What brings you here?"

Why is this woman always in my way?

Evelyn tilted her head. "You’ve heard about last night’s incident, haven’t you?"

Rosalind’s smile stiffened. "I’m not sure what you mean."

Evelyn’s lips curved, though her eyes remained icy. "Mr. Whitmore was attacked in the hospital last night."

A flicker of tension crossed Rosalind’s face before she schooled her features.

Damn it. Does she know?

"I have no idea what you’re talking about." She forced a laugh, feigning innocence. "Ms. Vanderbilt, why do you always target me? If this is about Nathan, you’ve already won. Why bother with me?"

Evelyn tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Funny. The man we caught last night claims he knows you."