Chapter 91

Evelyn pushed open the car door and stepped onto the pavement.

"My muscles could use some exercise." Her sharp gaze swept across the gang of armed men. "All at once or taking turns?"

The knife-wielding thugs exchanged glances, sizing up their unconscious comrade in the bushes before peering into the vehicle.

Seeing only one opponent, their tension visibly eased.

The ringleader, a tattooed brute with a cigarette dangling from his lips, swaggered forward.

"Numbers don't lie, sweetheart. Hand over the signet ring and we'll make this painless."

Evelyn's lips curled. "Alistair's lackeys, I presume?"

"Shut your mouth and give us the damn ring!" he snarled.

In a blur of motion, Evelyn snatched the cigarette and stamped it out on his forehead.

A spinning kick sent him crashing to the pavement.

"Seems you're the chatty one," she remarked coolly. "You first."

"Bitch broke my teeth!" The tattooed man spat blood as he scrambled up. "Get her!"

The gang surged forward - only to be systematically dismantled.

Within eight minutes, the street resembled a battlefield of groaning bodies.

Evelyn towered over their leader. "You call this leadership?"

"Technically... yeah."

"Funny. You sounded tougher five minutes ago."

Her boot connected with his ribs. "Pair up and march yourselves to the precinct."

"Come on, lady! We swear we'll never—"

"Option one: die here. Option two: jail." Her glacial stare left no room for negotiation. "Choose."

"We're going! We're moving!" The thugs hastily bound each other, terrified she might reconsider.

Satisfied, Evelyn slid back into the car. "Drive, Maxwell."

Her assistant's usually composed face betrayed undisguised awe before professionalism reasserted itself.

"Right away, Ms. Carter."

En route to Kingsley Estate, Maxwell voiced his concern. "Should we inform Mr. Sterling about this incident?"

"Unnecessary. Amateur hour." Evelyn examined her nails. "With Alistair's precious heirloom in my possession, he won't risk escalation."

"Understood."

"Actually, help me locate that ring when we get back."

She frowned in recollection. "After winning it, I believe I tossed it in a red velvet pouch. Probably in one of the garage trunks."

Maxwell nearly swerved off-road.

Only after being ambushed did she remember the artifact? And storing a seven-figure antique in a random pouch?

Truly... remarkable.

Upon arrival, Evelyn discovered Dominic and Elliot video-calling their grandfather in Darai.

The screen showed Leonard Kingsley - true patriarch of Kingsley Industries - looking markedly improved in his hospital bed.

"Grandfather! You're awake!" Evelyn nearly collided with the monitor, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "This is all my fault—"

"Nonsense, child." His voice, though aged, carried its familiar strength. "Let me see you properly."

Evelyn dashed away tears. "I'm booking the next flight to Darai."

"Doctor says I'll be dancing at my seventieth birthday." Leonard's eyes crinkled. "Speaking of which, you'd better be there, young lady."

Julian pouted. "Why's Evelyn the only one getting a personal invitation?"

Leonard's expression darkened. "Need I remind you of that concert debacle? Your sister endured public humiliation because of your thoughtless remarks!"

"I got carried away in the moment," Julian mumbled, properly chastised.