Chapter 279

Mind Games and Juicy Revelations

The morning sun cast golden streaks across Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse as she sipped her latte, scrolling through her phone. A smirk played on her lips—today’s gossip columns were spicy.

"Seraphina Delacroix spotted cozying up to Adrian Cross at a private yacht party—just weeks after her messy breakup with Sebastian Hart."

Evelyn’s fingers hovered over the screen. Oh, this is delicious. She could practically hear the tabloid editors cackling.

Then, her phone buzzed—a text from Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant:

"Nathan’s team just confirmed the merger. Press conference at noon. Also, Victoria Hayes is livid—she thought she’d secured the deal for herself."

Evelyn’s grin widened. Perfect.

She tapped out a reply: "Tell Preston Whitmore I want front-row seats to that disaster. And send flowers to Victoria—peonies. She hates peonies."

As she set her phone down, the mental image of Victoria’s face twisting in rage was almost too satisfying. But Evelyn’s amusement faded when another notification popped up—this time from an encrypted chat:

"The Blackwood files are ready. Meet me at the usual place. —D.S."

Her pulse quickened. Daniel Prescott. Sophia’s husband, Nathan’s brother-in-law… and the man sitting on a vault of Blackwood family secrets.

Evelyn exhaled slowly. Game on.

Scene Break

Across town, Nathan Blackwood adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his reflection cool and unreadable. The merger was a done deal, but the real battle was just beginning.

His phone lit up with a message from Marcus Donovan: "Heard from our insider—Vincent Holloway’s making moves. He’s got his sights set on the Delacroix scandal to distract from his own mess."

Nathan’s jaw tightened. Vincent was a snake, but a useful one—if handled right.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Blackwood? Your sister’s here."

Sophia swept in, her designer heels clicking sharply. "You’re really going through with this merger? After what Evelyn pulled last time?"

Nathan met her gaze evenly. "Business is business."

Sophia scoffed. "And Evelyn’s playing business. Don’t say I didn’t warn you."

As she stormed out, Nathan’s phone buzzed again—an alert from his private investigator:

"Confirmed: Prescott’s meeting someone tonight. Location encrypted, but traces lead back to Sinclair Holdings."

Nathan’s fingers clenched around the phone. Evelyn.

That night, Evelyn slipped into a dimly lit jazz bar, her emerald-green dress drawing glances. At the back booth, Daniel Prescott waited, a manila envelope on the table between them.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he murmured.

Evelyn smirked, reaching for the envelope. "Aren’t we all?"

But as her fingers brushed the file, the door burst open—flashlights blinding them.

"NYPD! Hands where we can see them!"

Evelyn’s blood ran cold. Setup.

And standing behind the officers?

Nathan Blackwood, his expression ice.

"Hello, Evelyn."

Evelyn Sinclair understood exactly what Lucas Thornton meant. She knew he had been targeted countless times in the past, yet he had always refrained from retaliating against Caleb Moore—largely because of her.

Truth be told, Evelyn had always carried a quiet guilt over this. She had poured her heart into raising her child, hoping to compensate for the unspoken debt she felt.

But this time, things had gone too far. Innocent people had been dragged into Caleb’s schemes. Lucas wasn’t going to let it slide anymore—and frankly, Evelyn didn’t blame him. A man destined to lead the Winters family couldn’t afford to be lenient with such reckless behavior.

More than that, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel she had failed as a mother. Minor reprimands hadn’t worked. Maybe it was time for Caleb to face real consequences—something that would finally make him think twice before acting.

If stubbornness was Caleb’s defining trait, then perhaps what Lucas had planned would finally knock some sense into him.

Evelyn exhaled slowly. This was the right path.

Meanwhile, Evelyn couldn’t help but sigh as she observed everything unfolding before her, the system feeding her details of the plan in real time.

They say spoiled children are the result of indulgent mothers, but Mdm. Lydia was anything but indulgent. She was strict, even harsh at times. And yet, Caleb turned out like this. Some people are just born rotten, aren’t they?

A ridiculous thought crossed her mind—Maybe Lucas should have been Mdm. Lydia’s son, and Caleb should have been Mrs. Willis’s. Mrs. Willis never treated Lucas well anyway.

She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. What a cliché. I must be losing my mind to even entertain such a thought.

Nathan Blackwood, standing beside her, didn’t dwell on the matter. Though Penelope Collins’s attitude toward Caleb was polite, it lacked warmth. There were reasons she wasn’t kind to Lucas—reasons that, while they might invite criticism, were understandable.

Around them, murmurs rose from the gathered crowd.

"What’s happening? What are they planning?"

"Should he fight back or just let it go?"

"Fight back, obviously. No way he should let this slide."

In truth, Daniel Wright and Amelia Bennett, who had just returned, weren’t privy to the specifics. Beatrice Holloway and Lucas had arranged everything.

Just then, the hall erupted into murmurs again. Heads turned as Beatrice strode back in, her expression unreadable.

The Carneys immediately stepped forward, ready to explain, but Beatrice raised a hand. "I know what you all want to ask. And I’m about to show you the truth."

With that, she walked toward the stage where the engagement ceremony had taken place moments ago. She pulled out her phone, fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

Evelyn smirked. A livestream? Clever.

The tension in the room thickened as the first flickers of the broadcast appeared on the large screens. Whatever was about to unfold, it was clear—pride was about to come with a very steep price.

The crowd remained in stunned silence, their eyes darting between the screen and Beatrice Holloway, unsure of what she was about to reveal.

Meanwhile, Penelope Collins and Luna Morgan shifted uncomfortably in their seats, a creeping sense of dread tightening their chests.

As for the relentless paparazzi, they stubbornly adjusted their cameras, eager to capture whatever scandal was about to unfold.

The massive screen, which had initially displayed a photograph of Beatrice and Caleb Moore, suddenly flickered to life with a video call. Though no faces were visible, the unmistakable backdrop confirmed it was filmed nearby.

Then, the voices of two men echoed through the hall.

Lucas Thornton had dragged Caleb into the secluded garden before his voice erupted in fury. "Why the hell would you do this?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Caleb replied smoothly, his tone dripping with feigned innocence.

Lucas scoffed. "Cut the act. There are no cameras here, and we both know it. I knew you wouldn’t let me walk away unscathed, and sure enough, I fell right into your trap. But tell me—why go this far? Has our relationship really deteriorated to the point where you’d sacrifice your own fiancée’s reputation just to ruin me?"

His expression was a mix of anguish and defiance. Had Caleb not been so eager to savor Lucas’s defeat, he might have been more cautious. But the temptation to gloat was too strong.

After years of being overshadowed, Caleb finally had the upper hand—and he couldn’t resist rubbing it in.

He glanced around quickly, confirming they were alone, before bursting into mocking laughter. "Oh, Lucas. No matter how much the elders praise you, in the end, you still lost to me!"

The damning words reverberated through the hall, plunging the room into stunned silence.

Then—chaos erupted.

"Holy hell! Did he just admit to setting this up?"

"So they did sleep together, but it was all Caleb’s doing?"

"What kind of man willingly makes himself a cuckold? He’s lost his damn mind!"

Penelope and Luna’s faces drained of color. They shot to their feet, ready to intervene—but before they could take a single step, four towering bodyguards shoved them back into their seats.

"Let us go!" Penelope shrieked, but her voice was drowned out by the uproar. Her frantic struggles only made her look unhinged.

"Help! Someone—!" Luna’s cries were even more desperate.

With a sharp flick of her wrist, Lydia signaled the guards, who promptly clamped hands over the women’s mouths, silencing them.

Well played, someone murmured in the crowd. Madam Lydia is really exposing her own son.

And yet, the real spectacle was Caleb—his arrogance had been his downfall.

It was painfully clear now—Lucas had outmaneuvered him.

The game was far from over.

The trap had been perfectly set—only someone who knew Lucas Thornton intimately could orchestrate such a scheme. After all, villains always fell victim to their own arrogance. Pride came with a price, and Caleb Moore would soon pay dearly for his. A smirk curled Evelyn Sinclair's lips.

Nathan Blackwood recognized this as the best strategy Lucas could devise. Unless Caleb confessed everything with his own words, any accusations would only lead to endless arguments, leaving Lucas and Beatrice Holloway's reputations forever stained. But if Lucas played his cards right, the outcome might exceed expectations. Now, everything hinged on Lucas's ability to manipulate the conversation.

Of course, Lucas wouldn’t let the other two off easily. His voice dripped with cold amusement as he said, "I didn’t lose to you, Caleb. I lost to my own mother and sister. How did you convince them to drug me? Did you threaten them, or did you promise them something in return?"

Caleb’s laughter boomed through the hall, arrogant and unrestrained. "Still making excuses for them, are you? Since you’re anyway, I might as well enlighten you. The entire plan was your mother’s idea. She didn’t want you to inherit the Winters family, so she came to me for help. Once your reputation was ruined, the Winters would never accept you as their heir. Your own flesh and blood despises you enough to destroy everything you’ve built. How pathetic is that?"

Caleb, knowing full well of Penelope Collins’s affection for Lucas, deliberately targeted his emotions by dragging his mother into this. What he didn’t realize was that in doing so, he had just exposed his own schemes—along with Luna Morgan and Penelope’s treachery.

By now, the crowd in the hall had erupted into chaos.

Luna and Penelope stood frozen, their faces drained of color as they stared at the screen in horror. Their minds reeled—how had everything unraveled so spectacularly? In mere seconds, their carefully constructed lies had crumbled into dust.

When the weight of hundreds of accusing eyes turned toward them, panic finally seized them.