Chapter 238

Flames of fury burned in Evelyn Roland's eyes.

She held Adrian Valentine and Isabella Langley's secrets in her grasp, but what good did it do?

None.

Not when Adrian could shatter her with three simple words: "I love you."

The pain was excruciating, like a blade piercing her heart.

She could barely breathe.

The agony made her restless, furious.

"Isn't this heartbreaking, Evelyn?" Isabella arched a perfectly groomed brow, looking down at her with disdain. "This is just the beginning. I'll make sure you suffer even more. Now get lost."

Evelyn was a shadow of herself—humiliated, defeated.

Without a word, she turned and walked away.

Giselle Valois watched Evelyn's retreating figure and lowered her voice. "Isabella, that woman needs to disappear. She's a ticking time bomb. If the truth about your interference gets out, the consequences will be disastrous."

Isabella wanted nothing more than to eliminate Evelyn, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself.

"Every plan we've tried has failed, Giselle. This time, we used Vincent Ashcroft against her, and instead, it backfired—his family went bankrupt."

"That idiot Vincent," Isabella scoffed, her lips curling in contempt.

"Once your father has squeezed every last bit of value from her, he'll dispose of her," Giselle said, her eyes glinting with calculation. "Now that the Ashcrofts are under our control, as long as they surrender their core technology, their company can be revived."

"Your father's strategy—using others to do his dirty work—is truly brilliant."

Isabella glanced around warily. "Not here. I just saw Adrian heading this way. Let's go find him."

The moment they disappeared around the corner, Vincent Ashcroft emerged from the shadows.

His gaze burned with hatred as he stared at Isabella's retreating back.

So it was all the Langleys' scheme.

Vincent turned toward the private lounge where Adrian was waiting and knocked.

The door opened, and Adrian frowned at the sight of him.

"Disappointed to see me?" Vincent smirked coldly.

Adrian studied the man before him. In just a few days, Vincent had changed—his usual recklessness now tempered with a dangerous calm.

"Or were you expecting your fiancée instead?" Vincent strode past him and dropped onto the sofa.

"You heard everything?" Adrian's voice was low.

A flicker of murderous intent flashed in Vincent's eyes. "Every word. Adrian, she's your woman now, so I can't touch her. But in six months—"

He stood abruptly, suddenly remembering Evelyn—her cold elegance, her unyielding pride.

"I've realized Evelyn has her own appeal. If I ever rise again, I'll pursue her properly."

"Vincent!" Adrian's voice turned icy.

"In six months, I'll make sure you both pay in blood." Vincent's smile was mocking. "A scumbag and a bitch—what a perfect match. Consider this an early wedding gift, since—"

"—women as 'virtuous' as Isabella are hard to come by."

Without another glance, he walked out.

Adrian remained still, his expression unreadable.

Was this what he had wanted?

To watch everyone he cared about drift further and further away.