Chapter 38

Dominic Reeves held his cigarette between his fingers, tilting his head as he absently scratched his scalp with his pinky.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward her. "Still, I should be courteous enough to make the stakes clear," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Since you insist on being so stubborn, I have no choice but to calm you down first. Then we can talk."

With a dismissive flick of his chin, he signaled to his men and turned away. This was beneath him—he shouldn’t have to dirty his hands with something so trivial.

Then came the sharp whistle of wind, followed by the sickening thuds of fists and feet meeting flesh. Dominic frowned. Why were his bodyguards struggling with one woman?

He barely had time to turn before a cold blade pressed against his throat. The steel glinted dangerously in the dim light, sending a shiver down his spine. Sweat beaded at his temples.

"W-What the hell are you doing?" he choked out.

"That depends on your next move," Evelyn Carter replied, her voice icy. There was no hesitation in her grip, no flicker of weakness.

Dominic’s mind reeled. The past few days had been a nightmare—a woman he thought he knew, someone he had loved for years, now standing before him like a stranger. Was this really Evelyn? Or had she always been this ruthless?

"You’re wondering how I know how to fight?" she sneered, reading his thoughts. "I learned because of you."

Dominic didn’t understand, but the blade at his throat was real. "Don’t be reckless! This isn’t a game. Put the knife down."

"My demand is simple," Evelyn said, disgust curling her lip as she watched him sweat. "Return what’s mine, and we’re done."

"Fine. I promise."

The pressure on his neck vanished. By the time he regained his composure, Evelyn was already walking away, her silhouette cutting through the dim light. Behind her, his bodyguards groaned on the ground, defeated.

Dominic cursed under his breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had planned to sweet-talk her, manipulate her—but she had turned the tables.

Evelyn flexed her wrist as she strode toward the street, scanning for a taxi. It had been too long since she’d used her combat skills, and her knuckles ached. She had given up so much for Dominic, but no more.

Then—headlights.

A sleek car pulled up, its high beams blinding her. She shielded her eyes, squinting—and then her tense shoulders relaxed.

He was here.