Chapter 347

"Even if you grovel at her feet now, she wouldn't spare you a second glance."

Sylvia's words hung in the air as she stormed off, leaving her former clique exchanging uneasy glances.

Iris hesitated, one foot already stepping forward to follow. "Sylvia, wait—"

A manicured hand clamped down on her wrist. "Why bother? Haven't you heard? The Montgomerys are cutting ties with her family."

Iris blinked. "What do you mean?"

Laughter tittered through the group. "Her father's company is being acquired by the Kingsleys. Rumor has it Evelyn Carter personally ordered all her credit cards frozen."

The revelation made Iris pause mid-step.

"Imagine crossing Evelyn," someone whispered. "That girl's practically royalty now."

—

Sylvia didn't need to turn around to know no one had followed.

The parking garage echoed with her stiletto clicks as she reached her convertible—alone. Her knuckles whitened around the keys.

Then she saw her.

Evelyn stood bathed in golden light beside a Rolls-Royce Cullinan, phone pressed to her ear. The diamond bracelet on her wrist caught the light with every gesture.

Rage boiled in Sylvia's veins.

"This is all your fault," she hissed, slamming into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life.

Tires screeched.

"Look out!"

A deep voice cut through the garage. Evelyn's phone clattered to concrete as strong arms yanked her sideways.

Sandalwood.

The scent enveloped her before she registered the masked face—only piercing amber eyes visible beneath a black baseball cap.

"Who—?"

CRASH.

Sylvia's convertible plowed into a concrete pillar. The airbag deployed with a sickening whump.

Through the cracked windshield, she saw Evelyn—untouched—pressed against a broad chest.

Cursing, Sylvia reversed and peeled out of the garage.

Evelyn's pulse hammered against her ribs. "Thank you," she breathed, but the stranger was already walking away.

"Wait! Your name—"

He didn't turn. Within seconds, shadows swallowed his silhouette.

Bodyguards swarmed her. "Ms. Kingsley! Are you hurt?"

Evelyn shook her head, staring at the spot where he'd vanished. That scent... familiar yet foreign.

"Pull the security footage," she ordered, retrieving her shattered phone. "I want that driver identified."

As her guards scrambled, Evelyn touched her wrist where his fingers had been. Warmth still lingered.

Who was he?

Why did he disappear like smoke?

The limousine door closed with a muted thud. Through tinted windows, Evelyn watched raindrops streak the glass—each one carrying more questions than answers.