Chapter 255

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?" Evelyn poked a finger at Sophia’s forehead, pushing her back into her seat.

"Hey! There are just some things we can’t explain in this world!" Sophia huffed, adjusting herself as she sat back down, convinced her logic was flawless. "I think the universe is finally punishing Dominic for all his terrible deeds!"

Evelyn shook her head. "Enough. I’m getting the bill. Stay put, gossip queen."

"You’d be bored out of your mind without my juicy updates!" Sophia shot back defensively.

As Evelyn stood, her gaze lingered on Sophia’s phone still open on the table. The screen displayed images of the accident, making her wonder—Was this really karma catching up to Dominic?

After parting ways with Sophia, Evelyn wandered down Antiquarius Lane, savoring her rare free time. The street was lined with antique shops, a mix of genuine relics and clever forgeries, leaving buyers to judge authenticity for themselves.

Halfway down the lane, a small, unmarked shop caught her eye. Though modest in size, its wares were meticulously arranged, reflecting the owner’s refined taste.

The moment Evelyn stepped closer, a delicate fragrance enveloped her—subtle yet refreshing, perfectly matching the shop’s serene atmosphere. Inside, no one greeted her, as if the place operated without an owner.

She studied the items, noting most were carved from wood, each piece distinct in design and material. The craftsmanship wasn’t extraordinary, but every piece had a unique charm. Something about this place felt different from the others.

Evelyn lingered, admiring without touching, in no hurry to leave. Then, a deep voice broke the silence. "Looking for something specific?"

Startled, she turned toward the corner where a man sat, previously hidden by shadows and clutter. Now, his steady gaze met hers—calm, like the wooden artifacts surrounding them.

"Just browsing," Evelyn replied with a smile. "Your shop has an interesting scent—like a blend of stories."

The man, who appeared no older than his late twenties, arched a brow. "Most customers care about the items, not the air." His tone was sharp.

Evelyn smirked, eyeing the half-carved piece in his hands. "Did you make everything here?"

"Buy or leave. Does it matter who carved them?" He exhaled impatiently, ready to dismiss her.

"Of course it does," Evelyn countered. "I wouldn’t eat a dish made by a chef I dislike. If these are yours, I might buy. Since they’re not, I’ll pass."

His grip tightened on the carving tool. "Here to argue instead of shop?"

She grinned. "You looked lonely. Thought I’d keep you company."