Chapter 49

The scorching sun baked the asphalt, heat waves distorting the distant scenery.

Evelyn Sinclair narrowed her eyes as a sleek black luxury car approached. Its polished surface gleamed coldly under the sunlight, like a lurking panther.

Her spine stiffened instinctively.

The window rolled down, revealing Alexander Kingsley's sharply defined features. His gaze cut into her like a blade.

"What a coincidence?" Evelyn took half a step back, fingers digging into her palms.

Alexander pushed the car door open, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. The dark gray suit he wore accentuated his pale, icy complexion.

Evelyn turned to leave.

Footsteps closed in behind her. She quickened her pace, only for his hand to clamp around her wrist.

"Running away?" Alexander pressed her against the sunbaked wall, his breath hot against her ear. "Didn’t you come here just to see me?"

She tilted her head up, her gaze clear. "I’m here to interview Vincent Sullivan."

Alexander scoffed. "You can’t even lie properly. The old man never gives interviews."

His thumb traced the delicate curve of her wrist, his voice laced with danger. "The ten-day deadline isn’t up yet. Couldn’t wait to come back?"

"Who else but you would bully me?" Evelyn suddenly smiled, though her eyes remained frozen.

Alexander’s expression darkened. He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You call that bullying?"

Flecks of sunlight scattered between them.

Evelyn turned her face away, her voice barely a whisper. "Think whatever you want."

Her indifference ignited his fury. He dragged her toward the car. "Enough games. I have business to attend to."

Just as Evelyn struggled, the vermilion gates of the Sullivan estate creaked open.

The butler emerged, his eyes flickering between them. "Mr. Kingsley, the master is expecting you."

Alexander shoved Evelyn toward Ethan Miller. "Keep an eye on her."

Inside the traditional hall, sandalwood incense curled through the air.

When Evelyn rose to use the restroom, Ethan followed like a guard dog. She glanced back. "Planning to follow me into the ladies' room?"

Ethan flushed and stopped at the corridor’s bend.

...

In the archives, Vincent Sullivan adjusted his reading glasses as he searched. "The butterfly brooch... Found it!"

Alexander took the yellowed catalog, his breath hitching. The brooch in the photo matched the one Evelyn treasured perfectly.

"Will you sell it to me?"

Vincent shook his head. "It was auctioned off a decade ago." He pointed at the record. "Charity auction. Proceeds went to an orphanage."

Alexander studied the date, brow furrowed. The timing was too coincidental.

"Where did you acquire it?"

Vincent’s eyes flickered. "A friend transferred it to me." He lowered his voice. "This wouldn’t happen to belong to your family, would it?"

Without missing a beat, Alexander fabricated a story. "It’s a family heirloom of a friend. His mother was wearing it when she died..."

Vincent took the bait, vowing to help trace its origins.

When they returned to the courtyard, Ethan was pacing in a sweat.

"Where is she?" Alexander’s voice turned glacial.

Ethan paled. "M-Miss Sinclair... She’s gone."

At the end of the corridor, Evelyn slipped behind an ornate wooden door. She pulled out her phone and dialed swiftly.

"Grandfather Sullivan, it’s Evelyn. About the butterfly brooch—I have crucial information..."