Chapter 131

If Evelyn shared a drink with another man, it would be like stepping directly into Nathaniel's warzone. The fallout would be catastrophic—there was no way she could risk it.

After a tense pause, Evelyn attempted to negotiate with Christopher. "How about another time? I'll drink with you as much as you want then."

Christopher didn't budge. "No deal. It's now or never. Time doesn't wait for anyone—especially not for women."

Damn him.

Evelyn flushed slightly and glanced at Nathaniel. He was still sipping his tea, his back turned, completely indifferent to her predicament.

She turned back to Christopher, her resolve hardening. "Just to be clear—if I drink with you, you'll give me Vivian Sterling's works for free, right?"

Christopher smirked, nodding without hesitation. "The moment you do, they're yours."

Evelyn stole another glance at Nathaniel. Still facing away, his posture was relaxed, as if he couldn't care less about what she did.

If she acted fast, maybe he wouldn't notice.

Determined, she reached for the glass of orange juice on the table. "Fine. Let's drink."

Christopher blinked, surprised by her sudden agreement. She must really want those paintings. Who is Vivian Sterling to her?

Seeing the fierce determination in Evelyn's delicate features, his lips curved into a half-smile. Intrigued, he lifted his teacup, slowly bringing it toward her glass.

Their cups clinked softly.

As they leaned in, their gazes locked—

"I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid—To take a stand, to take a stand—It's been a ride—Everybody—"

Her phone blared, shattering the moment.

Evelyn jerked back, nearly dropping her glass. The screen flashed—Nathaniel Grayson.

Did he see me?

Her blood turned to ice.

She spun around—and met Nathaniel's piercing glare. The entire room had gone silent, all eyes on her, including Cassandra's.

Cassandra shot her a disapproving look, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

Nathaniel's expression was unreadable as he pressed the phone to his ear, his gaze never leaving hers.

She had no choice.

Swallowing hard, Evelyn answered.

"Come here." His voice was dangerously calm.

If she responded—or worse, obeyed—Cassandra would realize they knew each other. The entire Whitmore family would find out, and her carefully constructed peace would shatter.

Steeling herself, Evelyn turned to Christopher. "Excuse me. I need to take this."

She set down her glass and strode out of the room. Once she was far enough, she hissed into the phone, "I'm not coming back in! If you have something to say, meet me outside!"