Chapter 4

EVELYN 

FEW MONTHS LATER

“Get everything ready, including the documents I need at the company” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You set, honey? We have to get ready soon so we can meet up, remember you said you want to meet my family” Alexander said, pressing a soft peck on my lips.

I met his eyes and nodded. “Yes, I am super excited.”

He studied my face for a moment, then smiled. “Then be fast and let’s make an entrance.”

Tonight was important. Not for him, but for me. The moment I had been waiting for was finally here. The gala was packed with the city’s elite—billionaires, politicians, socialites. The perfect setting for what I had planned.

As we stepped into the grand hall, all eyes turned to us. Alexander Wilson, the man everyone admired, and me, his mysterious wife. I felt the weight of their stares, the whispers trailing behind us like shadows.

Alexander held my waist protectively, leading me through the crowd. People greeted us with forced smiles, murmuring polite congratulations on our marriage. But I could see the curiosity in their eyes. They were dying to know who I was, where I had come from, and how I had captured one of the most powerful men in the country.

I let them wonder.

Then I saw her.

Victoria.

She was dressed in a sleek black gown, her makeup flawless, her smile calculated. The moment she spotted Alexander, her expression flickered—surprise, longing, and something else. Regret.

She made her way toward us, her steps confident, as if she still had a claim over him.

“Alexander,” she breathed, her eyes lighting up. She reached out, moving to hug him.

Alexander took a step back. “Victoria.” His voice was cool, detached.

A flicker of hurt crossed her face, but she masked it quickly. She glanced at me, curiosity creeping into her gaze, but before she could ask, Alexander smiled—a slow, knowing smile.

“I want to introduce someone.” He turned slightly, his grip on my waist tightening.

I took a step forward, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The room seemed to quiet as I met Victoria’s gaze head-on.

“Evelyn, meet my ex-wife,” Alexander said smoothly. Then, he turned to Victoria. “Victoria, meet my wife.”

Silence.

For a split second, Victoria didn’t react. Her expression froze in place, like her brain hadn’t fully processed what he had just said. Then, her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

My smile didn’t waver. I extended my hand, turning slightly.

“Damian,” I said sweetly, meeting his cold stare. “Your stepmom.”

A sharp inhale.

The tension in the air thickened instantly.

Damian’s jaw tightened, his grip on his champagne glass firm. His expression was unreadable, but I caught the way his fingers curled slightly—restrained anger, disbelief, shock.

Alexander had no idea. He didn’t know that his precious son had once been my fiancé. That this entire moment was orchestrated to shake them both.

Victoria’s stunned expression was priceless. Her gaze flickered between me, Alexander, and Damian.

“You—” she started, her voice shaky.

“Yes, don't be surprised” I cut her off smoothly, my eyes never leaving Damian’s. “I’m his wife now.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The realization hit them all at once.

Victoria swallowed hard. “You... married Alexander? You married my husband?”

I tilted my head slightly, feigning innocence. “Ex-husband and yes I did.”

Damian’s grip on the glass tightened further. “When?” His voice was sharp, laced with an edge I knew all too well.

“A few weeks ago, I can barely remember” Alexander answered casually, oblivious to the storm brewing beside him. He smiled at me, pride evident in his eyes. “But I must say it's the best decision of my life.”

Damian’s eyes darkened. His jaw clenched. He was barely holding himself together.

“Excuse me,” Victoria murmured, stepping back slightly. “I—I think I need a drink.”

She turned and walked away, her composure cracking with every step.

I let my gaze drift back to Damian, my lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Something wrong, Damian?” I asked, my voice light, teasing.

His blue eyes burned into mine, the weight of unspoken history pressing between us.

“You knew,” he said lowly.

I took a sip of my champagne, never breaking eye contact. “Knew what? I don't understand what you mean”

His voice dropped lower. “You planned this, you had everything planned out, you deceived me.”

I smiled, tilting my head. “Planned what, exactly?”

He exhaled sharply, jaw flexing. His anger was bubbling beneath the surface, barely restrained. He couldn’t lash out, not here, not in front of his father.

Alexander, oblivious, placed a hand on my lower back. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s meet the rest of the board members.”

I let him guide me away, but not before giving Damian one last look—one that told him everything he needed to know.

This was only the beginning.

—

The night continued with forced conversations, fake smiles, and glasses of expensive wine. Alexander introduced me to investors, business partners, people who pretended to care about our marriage but were really just waiting for it to fall apart.

I played my role perfectly.

But every time I glanced across the room, I felt Damian’s eyes on me. Watching. Burning.

He was unraveling, slowly, painfully.

Victoria had retreated to a corner, speaking in hushed tones with a few women, probably gossiping about me.

Let them.

I had come here to make a statement, and I had succeeded. But I wasn’t done yet.

Alexander was pulled into a conversation with a senator, leaving me alone for a moment.

That’s when Damian approached.

“Why?” His voice was low, dangerous.

I turned, meeting his glare head-on. “Why what?”

His hands were in his pockets, but I could see the tension in his body. “Why him?”

I smirked, taking a step closer. “Why not?”

“I know he is your father Damian and I married him because I love him” I said.

“You left me for my father?” Damian asked, and then my gaze flickered towards Isabella who was standing in the middle of the guest.

“Ask your mother what she did,” I said.

Damian was about to speak when Isabella walked in. “Why are you still talking to this slut?” She yelled in my face.

I wiped the smirk off my lips, tilting my head as I stared at Isabella’s fuming face.

"You must think the bankruptcy that happened to your company months ago was just bad luck?" I mused, my voice smooth and taunting. "I planned it all. And guess what?" I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice just enough to make them lean in, hungry for what I was about to say. "I’m one of the major shareholders in that company."

A collective inhale. The weight of my words sank in like a dagger.

Isabella's eyes widened before they narrowed into pure hatred. "How dare you?" she seethed, lunging toward me.

Before she could reach me, Damian grabbed her wrist, holding her back. His grip was tight, controlled—but his eyes never left mine.

"Evelyn," he said my name like a warning, his voice rough, low. He took a step forward, his fingers twitching like he was about to touch me.

I let my lips curl, my chin tilting up. "You wouldn’t want to touch your father’s wife, would you?"

Damian froze. A muscle in his jaw twitched, his nostrils flaring. The unspoken weight of what I’d done crushed down on him.

"You married him for revenge," Isabella spat.

I turned to her slowly, deliberately. Then, my gaze flickered to Victoria, whose face had gone pale, her mask of composure cracking.

A slow smile stretched across my lips. "I’m carrying his child."

Silence.

Isabella stiffened. Victoria’s breath hitched. And Damian—his whole body went still, like I had just shattered whatever fragile control he had left.

The sound of Alexander’s voice echoed through the hall as he continued his speech on the stage, oblivious to the war happening on the other side of the room. The guests were too engrossed in his words to notice the sheer tension suffocating us.

But I felt it. I saw it.

Damian’s fingers curled into fists, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. He looked like he wanted to say something, wanted to demand the truth.

But I didn’t give him the chance.

Instead, I leaned in, just enough for my words to be for him and him alone.

"This is just the beginning," I whispered.