Chapter 126

Vincent Blackwood settled into his seat, launching into an animated pitch for his new film project, hoping to secure investments from the four powerful CEOs present.

Beside him, Cassandra sat quietly, her gaze drifting toward Nathaniel Grayson. The longer she stared at that impossibly handsome man, the more regret twisted inside her chest.

It could have been her.

Not long ago, she had nearly married him. The Grayson family’s bridal procession had already stepped into her home—yet somehow, fate had snatched that future away. The extravagant dowry still sat untouched in her family’s vault, a constant reminder of what she’d lost.

If only things had gone differently, she’d be Mrs. Grayson now, seated proudly beside Nathaniel, the envy of every woman in the room.

Lost in her bitter fantasies, she jerked when her elbow knocked over her teacup. Hot liquid splashed onto the designer gown she’d borrowed.

"Damn it!" Cassandra shot to her feet, frantically dabbing at the stain.

"Are you hurt?" Vincent asked, frowning.

"I'm fine," she muttered, flustered. Then she snapped at her assistant, "Evelyn! Get me tissues from my bag!"

"Of course."

Evelyn Whitmore had been standing silently in the corner, holding Cassandra’s purse. She kept her head down as she retrieved the tissues, her movements efficient but her mind seething.

She just had to say my full name. Please tell me Nathaniel didn’t hear that.

Evelyn prayed the common name wouldn’t draw attention.

But the moment Cassandra uttered "Evelyn," all four men at the table looked up sharply. Their eyes locked onto the assistant who had been trying so hard to stay invisible.

Dominic Prescott smirked. "Doesn’t that name ring a bell, Nathaniel?"

Evelyn wore a simple calico dress, her hair in two unassuming braids. Yet Nathaniel’s gaze burned into her with such intensity it could have scorched the fabric.

She felt it—the weight of his stare—but refused to meet his eyes. The last thing she needed was for the Blackwoods to connect her to Nathaniel.

Cassandra finally noticed the shift in the room. Her smile stiffened as she realized all four men were staring at Evelyn.

What the hell?

She’d deliberately dressed Evelyn like a peasant. How was she still stealing attention?

That little witch.

Forcing a laugh, Cassandra cut in. "Why is everyone staring at my assistant? Is her outfit that ridiculous?"

Nathaniel’s icy gaze slid to her. "She’s your assistant?"