Chapter 94

"Absolutely not. I need to stand tall now more than ever. The world won't see me cower."

They expected her to crumble under the weight of their accusations, but surrender wasn't in Evelyn Carter's vocabulary.

She threw off the silk sheets and strode to the ensuite, splashing cold water on her face. The reflection staring back was steel wrapped in satin—unbreakable.

Over at Kingsley Industries, the media circus had descended. Reporters from every major outlet jostled for position outside the glass towers.

The growl of an engine cut through the chaos as a crimson Porsche 911 pulled up.

Inside, Maxwell Donovan adjusted the rearview mirror. "Ms. Carter, perhaps some sunglasses? The paparazzi flashbulbs might—"

"Let them shoot." Evelyn's lips curved as she reapplied her signature red lipstick. The mirror caught the dangerous glint in her hazel eyes. "I want every lens to capture how little their words affect me."

Maxwell exited first, signaling the security detail. Black-suited guards formed a barricade as cameras exploded like fireworks.

When Evelyn emerged, the crowd inhaled sharply. Her emerald-green Valentino gown caught the morning light, each hand-sewn crystal reflecting her defiance. The whispers began instantly—how could someone embroiled in scandal look so utterly victorious?

"Evelyn! Does Nathan Sterling know about your affairs?"

"Who else did you sleep with during your marriage?"

"Care to comment on the bullying allegations?"

A projectile whizzed through the air—a half-empty coffee cup aimed at Evelyn's head. A tanned hand intercepted it mid-flight, splashing caramel macchiato across Italian leather shoes.

Dominic Kingsley's voice turned arctic. "Find that person. Now."

Evelyn's breath hitched as her eldest brother materialized beside her. She threaded her arm through his, drawing strength from his presence. Of course he'd come. The Kingsleys always protected their own.

The reporters turned rabid.

"Mr. Kingsley! Will your family still accept her after this?"

"Does Leonard Kingsley approve of his granddaughter's behavior?"

Dominic's jaw tightened. He propelled Evelyn through the revolving doors, his silence more terrifying than any outburst.

In the executive suite's sanctuary, he handed her a steaming mug. "You were supposed to stay home."

Evelyn's laugh sparkled like champagne. "And let them think I'm hiding? Never."

Her brother flicked her forehead affectionately. "Stubborn as always." He grew serious. "Grandfather's announcing your true identity at his gala. The world will finally know you're a Kingsley."

Memories surfaced—boarding school under an alias, art galleries where no one knew her lineage. The carefully constructed anonymity ending in three days.

"Ready to claim your birthright?" Dominic searched her face.

Evelyn squared her shoulders. "Born ready."

"Good. Pack for Darai. We leave after the—"

Her phone chimed. A message lit up the screen:

Calico, we made it to Pamore. Can you meet us?

Evelyn's heart swelled. These were her scholarship kids—the ones she'd mentored in secret. Against all odds, they'd kept their promise.

Her fingers flew across the screen: Name the place.

The game wasn't over yet. It was just beginning.