Chapter 9
The guests were still gawking. Cedric swept a cold glance around the courtyard.
That look alone was enough. Anyone who met his eyes quickly looked away, pretending to chat as they dispersed.
"Let's go." Cedric put his arm around Evelyn's shoulders and guided her toward a private elevator in the opposite direction.
Half an hour later, they were in Cedric's private penthouse apartment.
Evelyn sat on a wide leather sofa while a doctor treated the wounds on her arm and palms.
The antiseptic stung. Evelyn flinched.
Cedric stood nearby, holding a glass of warm water, his eyes fixed on her injured arm.
"Be gentle," he said to the doctor.
The doctor's movements became even more careful. Once the wounds were bandaged, he left some anti-inflammatory medication and excused himself.
Now it was just the two of them in the living room.
Cedric set the glass of water on the coffee table in front of her.
"Drink."
Evelyn picked up the glass with her uninjured hand and took a sip. "Thanks, Cedric. I'm sorry you had to see all that."
Cedric sat down in the armchair across from her, crossing his legs, his posture relaxed.
"I wouldn't say I'm entertained. But I will say, Ms. Kendall, your taste in men could use some work."
Evelyn gave a bitter smile.
"Yeah. Took me three years to realize I was blind. At least I'm cured now."
Cedric studied her calm expression and asked, "The security footage—do you want me to have someone look into it?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"No point. Even if we prove Arianna tampered with it, Sebastian will just find another excuse for her. I don't care what he thinks. I'm getting a divorce."
Cedric didn't push. He just nodded.
"Stay here tonight. The guest room's ready."
Evelyn hesitated, about to refuse, but Cedric was already standing.
"If you go back looking like this, your friend will worry. And don't you have that meeting tomorrow? Get some rest."
He mentioned the meeting. Evelyn swallowed her refusal.
He was right. She needed a quiet place to pull herself together.
The next morning, Evelyn changed into a sharp professional outfit. The bandage on her arm was hidden under long sleeves.
Following the address Mr. Harrison had given her, she arrived at an upscale club in the city center.
The renewable energy project Mr. Harrison had mentioned was run by a man named Larry, who had a reputation in the industry for being difficult.
Evelyn waited in the private room for almost half an hour before the door finally opened.
A paunchy middle-aged man walked in, reeking of alcohol.
"Mr. Larry." Evelyn stood to greet him.
Mr. Larry looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her face and body. His mouth curved into a greasy smile.
"Ms. Kendall, right? Harrison says you're very capable. I turned down several meetings today just to see you."
Evelyn pushed down her discomfort and handed him the proposal she'd prepared.
"Mr. Larry, this is the preliminary market plan for the renewable energy project. Please take a look."
Mr. Larry didn't even glance at the documents. He pulled out a chair and sat down right next to her, close enough that she could smell the cigarettes and liquor on him.
"Why bother with documents? Ms. Kendall, when we talk business, it's all about sincerity."
He reached for the wine bottle on the table and poured two glasses of red wine, sliding one in front of Evelyn.
"Come on. Drink this first, then we'll chat."
Evelyn looked at the full glass, her tone polite but firm.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Larry. I'm not feeling well today. I can't drink. Let's just talk about the project."
Mr. Larry's face darkened immediately.
"You won't drink? That means you don't respect me." He snorted coldly. "Ms. Kendall, you're not the Ashford family's young missus anymore. I heard you and Sebastian split up? Without Ashford Group backing you, who do you think you are, acting all high and mighty with me?"
Evelyn's expression hardened.
So he'd already done his homework on her. He came here today specifically to make things difficult.
"Since you're not here to talk business in good faith, I won't waste your time."
Evelyn picked up her bag and headed for the door.
She reached the door, grabbed the handle, and twisted hard.
The door was locked.
Evelyn's heart sank. She turned back to look at Mr. Larry.
Mr. Larry swirled the wine in his glass, his smile predatory.
"What's the rush? You think you can just walk into this room and leave whenever you want without making me happy first?"
He stood and started walking toward her, step by step.
"I've had my eye on you for a while. That idiot Sebastian doesn't know what he's got. He's got a gorgeous woman like you and he's chasing after that sickly sister-in-law of his instead. Why don't you stick with me? I'll put you in charge of the whole project. What do you say?"
Evelyn took a step back, her back pressing against the door.
"Mr. Larry, have some self-respect. This is an upscale club. If I scream, someone will come in."
"Go ahead and scream." Mr. Larry didn't care at all. "I rented out the whole floor."
He lunged at her, reaching for her shoulder.
Evelyn reacted fast. She ducked under his arm and rolled to the side.
She ran to the table and grabbed an unopened bottle of red wine.
Mr. Larry missed her and his face twisted with rage.
"You're dead!"
He charged at her, arms outstretched, trying to pin her against the table.
Evelyn didn't back down.
She gripped the wine bottle with both hands. The second Mr. Larry lunged, she swung it with all her strength and smashed it into his head.
A dull thud.
The thick glass bottle didn't break, but Mr. Larry's movements froze instantly.
He stared at Evelyn, eyes wide. A few seconds later, bright red liquid ran down his forehead like blood, dripping onto his white shirt.
Mr. Larry clutched his head and let out a howl, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor.
Red wine mixed with blood streamed down his face.
Evelyn's hands were still shaking as she held the bottle.
She stared at Mr. Larry on the floor, her mind buzzing for a few seconds before she realized—he wasn't getting up anytime soon.
She dropped the bottle on the carpet with a heavy thud.
Evelyn spun around and rushed to the door, twisting the handle with both hands. It wouldn't budge.
She looked down. It was an old-fashioned spring lock that needed a key to unlock from the inside. The key wasn't in the lock.
Mr. Larry mumbled something behind her, slurred and indistinct. Evelyn didn't catch it and didn't have time to care.
She scanned the room. One of the windows was cracked open.
Evelyn hurried to the window and looked down. Second floor. Below was the club's parking garage—concrete floor, no cushion.
She couldn't jump.
Behind her, she heard the scrape of a chair being shoved aside. Mr. Larry was using the table to pull himself up, already cursing.
"You bitch... you're gonna pay for this..."