Chapter 6
Evelyn was charmed by his tone, and the atmosphere between them grew even more relaxed.
Matthew's gaze remained locked on that blazing red figure in the distance. Zeal. He recognized the man.
The Jennings family's most unpredictable heir, and tonight's guest of honor. How did he end up tangled with Evelyn?
Watching Evelyn smile at Zeal, the nameless fire in Matthew's chest burned hotter. He'd shown up here to help her fix the Sparkle mess, and what was she doing? Instead of looking stressed and desperate, she had the leisure to chat and laugh with another man?
Was she here to solve problems or pick up guys?
"Mr. Perkins?" Britney felt the tension in his arm muscles and followed his gaze, naturally spotting Evelyn in that eye-catching red dress.
A flash of jealous hatred crossed her eyes before she displayed perfectly calibrated surprise. "Isn't that Eve? She doesn't have an invitation. How did she get in? She's not... looking for a sugar daddy, is she..."
She trailed off suggestively, leaving plenty of room for imagination.
Matthew's lips pressed into a tight line. He'd made such a big entrance, but Evelyn hadn't spared him even a glance of explanation. She just tilted her head slightly, listening to Zeal talk with an unmistakable focus that made Matthew's blood boil.
He abruptly withdrew the arm Britney was holding.
"Go mingle on your own." His voice was low.
Britney's smile froze, uncertainty flickering across her face. "Mr. Perkins?"
Matthew didn't look at her again, striding directly toward Evelyn and Zeal with only a parting command: "Don't follow me."
Britney stood rooted in place, her nails digging deep into her palms. Evelyn again! That damn woman wouldn't go away!
She took a deep breath, turned and melted into the crowd, sweet smile back in place, though her mind was already spinning schemes. Soon enough, through Britney's "casual" gossip, several socialites and wealthy ladies nearby learned the scandalous secret that Evelyn had used unsavory means to infiltrate the gala just to climb the social ladder.
Matthew had barely approached Evelyn when he overheard two pot-bellied middle-aged men nearby speaking in hushed tones, their eyes sleazily roving over her.
"That chick in the red dress—you see her? Fresh face. Hot as hell!"
"Spotted her already. She's with Mr. Jennings though, so... damn shame. No wonder you didn't dare approach..."
"Zeal probably won't keep her around long. Give it a bit, ask around, and maybe... heh heh, with that body, that face, she'd be worth this much for one night!"
One of them made a gesture, and both shared a knowing, lecherous chuckle.
Matthew's steps halted. He turned his head, his gaze icy as it swept over their faces. He recognized them—two nouveau riche who'd made their money in building materials.
"Gentlemen." Matthew spoke, his voice not loud, but it made obsequious smiles quickly plaster themselves across both men's faces.
"Mr. Perkins! What a coincidence..."
"Mr. Perkins, might there be an opportunity to collaborate..."
Matthew ignored their flattery, his eyes cold and devoid of warmth. "You two seemed to be having quite the chat just now."
Both men froze, not understanding his meaning.
"However," Matthew continued, his tone as bland as a weather report, "the Perkins Group and all its subsidiaries will no longer have any business dealings with either of you. The legal department will deliver termination notices tomorrow."
Their faces turned ghostly white. "Mr. Perkins! Why... is there some misunderstanding..."
"No misunderstanding." Matthew cut them off, his eyes ruthless. "I simply feel your character doesn't qualify you to appear on the Perkins Group's partner list."
With that, he turned away from the ashen-faced men without another glance, but Evelyn was nowhere to be seen. Zeal had also disappeared.
The frustration in Matthew's chest burned even hotter. Even trash like that dared to fantasize about her behind her back... and where was she now?
He pulled out his phone and dialed Evelyn's number.
At the end of the corridor, at the stairwell corner leading to the second-floor terrace, Evelyn's phone buzzed in her clutch. She glanced at the name flashing on the screen and hung up directly, then switched the phone to silent.
Zeal pretended not to notice her little maneuver, simply jerking his chin upward. "Up and left on the terrace. Ellen's usually out there smoking around this time. Make it quick—the old man's patience is limited."
Evelyn nodded and started up the stairs.
The night breeze on the terrace was cool. A white-haired old man in impeccable attire stood with his back to the door, deep in thought, a cigar smoldering between his fingers.
"Mr. Ellen, pardon the interruption." Evelyn approached, getting straight to the point. "I'm Evelyn Arden, project lead for the Perkins Group's Sparkle initiative. Regarding the final design draft your team received—the one with serious defects—I'd like to..."
"Design draft?" Ellen cut her off, his gaze lingering on her striking red dress and makeup before undisguised disgust and mockery surfaced. "Ha. Has the Perkins Group's leadership really sunk so low that you need to resort to these tactics to get attention?"
Evelyn's heart sank, but she remained composed. "Mr. Ellen, I don't understand what you mean. I came here hoping to clarify the professional issues with the design itself and..."
"Professional?" Ellen thought of the rumors he'd heard circulating in the main hall and scoffed, crushing his cigar heavily into the ashtray. "A woman who snuck into this gala through shady means with questionable motives?"
The contempt in his eyes practically overflowed. "I have zero interest in your designs, and even less interest in wasting time with someone so morally bankrupt. Security!"
He raised his voice on that last word.
Nearby security personnel immediately approached, gesturing firmly for Evelyn to leave.
"Mr. Ellen, there must be some misunderstanding..." Evelyn remained calm and direct, but the guards were already moving to escort her out.
"Whoa, hold up there."
A lazy, amused voice interrupted.
Zeal had somehow made his way onto the terrace, strolling over casually with his hands in his pockets like he was wandering through his own backyard.
He gave Evelyn a reassuring wink first, then turned to face the displeased Ellen.
"Old man, don't get so worked up." Zeal approached and casually clapped Ellen on the shoulder with familiar ease.
Ellen saw him and his stern expression faltered, then his brow furrowed. "Zeal? What are you..."
"What am I doing here?" Zeal picked up the thread, smile unchanged. "Miss Evelyn is my friend. I'm hoping you'll give her—give that potentially tampered design draft—a chance to be cleared up."
He paused, his tone still light but carrying more weight. "Consider it... a favor to me?"