Chapter 40

Victoria Blackwood pulled her daughter Cassandra into a tight embrace. "Don't cry, darling. I'll fix this. I swear I'll clear your name!"

Evelyn Whitmore stood nearby, arms crossed, lips curled in amusement. The sight of Victoria and Cassandra in such distress only made her chuckle softly.

Cassandra's tears stopped the moment she heard that laugh. Her face twisted with fury as she whirled on Evelyn. "This is your doing! You did this to me, Evelyn!"

Evelyn arched a brow, feigning innocence. "Me? A mere maid couldn’t possibly afford a front-page scandal. That kind of exposure costs a fortune."

Money hadn’t been necessary—just the right skills.

Cassandra glared. "Even if you didn’t pay for it, you made sure Dad saw it! You came here just to twist the knife!"

Evelyn sighed. "Funny. Wasn’t it you who insisted I come home today?"

Cassandra’s mouth snapped shut.

"Besides," Evelyn continued, "he would’ve found out eventually. If you didn’t want the world to know about your little scandals, maybe you shouldn’t have done them in the first place."

Cassandra trembled with rage, too furious to speak, her face streaked with tears.

Victoria couldn’t stand it any longer. The mask of kindness slipped. "Enough! Who do you think you are? Some illegitimate brat playing the perfect daughter in front of your father!"

Evelyn smirked. "You don’t know me. But I know exactly what kind of people you two are."

She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. "And this? This is just karma paying you back for every rotten thing you’ve ever done."

Without another word, she turned and headed upstairs to find Gregory. There were things she needed to discuss with him—alone.

Victoria watched her go, teeth clenched. That little witch. She won’t get away with this.

Her attempts to drive Evelyn out of the Whitmore estate had failed time and again. The Whitmores weren’t the wealthiest family, but their ancestors had left them prime real estate—enough to live comfortably off the rents.

Victoria refused to let an illegitimate child like Evelyn claim a single penny of it.

Her original plan had been simple: marry Evelyn off, ensuring she’d take her husband’s name and forfeit any inheritance rights. But every blind date she arranged had ended in disaster.

Now, she needed a new strategy—fast. Because as long as Evelyn stayed, she’d keep bringing them misery.

Gregory was still fuming in his study when a soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Get out!" he snapped.

"Dad, it’s me," Evelyn called gently.

His anger cooled slightly. "Evelyn? Come in."

The door opened, and Evelyn stepped inside, a painting tucked under her arm.