Chapter 106

Alistair's most prized possession, the diamond thumb ring that had been passed down through three generations of Delaneys, was always kept in a velvet-lined safe when not worn.

Seeing Evelyn casually dangling it in a plastic bag made his stomach twist violently.

"Miss Carter—" His voice cracked.

At Evelyn's slight nod, Maxwell placed the ring into Alistair's trembling palm.

For a brief moment, hope flickered in Alistair's chest. Perhaps she was showing mercy after all.

"Ms. Carter, your beauty is only matched by your generosity—"

His fingers twitched toward the family heirloom.

Then Evelyn's icy voice cut through the air. "If you truly wish to atone, prove it by crushing this under a hammer."

The blood drained from Alistair's face.

Destroy it?

This couldn't be happening. The Delaney ring was priceless—a symbol of their lineage since the Gilded Age.

"You can't be serious!" His voice rose an octave. "This is a museum-quality artifact! Its value—"

"Wasn't it you who offered compensation?" Evelyn tilted her head, watching his panic with detached amusement. "Unless... you're having second thoughts?"

This wasn't just letting go. This was tearing out a piece of his soul.

But with Kingsley Industries poised to dismantle Delaney Enterprises, Alistair had no choice.

His jaw clenched. "Fetch... a hammer."

Gasps rippled through the assembled executives.

Dominic's voice cut through the murmurs. "Your men attacked my sister. Your granddaughter orchestrated that 'accident.'" His glare could freeze lava. "Consider this merciful."

Alistair's hands shook. "Those were rogue employees! I knew nothing—"

The lie tasted bitter. One word from the Kingsleys could erase generations of Delaney wealth.

Especially now that Nathan Sterling had chosen Evelyn. The power imbalance was catastrophic.

"Funny," Evelyn mused, tapping one manicured nail against her champagne flute. "I distinctly recall threats about exposing me to Leonard."

Alistair wanted to vomit. That phone call would haunt him forever.

"Ms. Carter, listen—when Isabella delivers her child, I'll personally ensure she faces justice. Name your price for the attacks, the slander... anything."

Leonard Kingsley's cane slammed against marble. "You think money fixes everything? That my granddaughter can be bought?"

"No! I swear—"

"Prove it." Evelyn extended the hammer Maxwell had procured.

Alistair's vision swam. Seventy years of family history balanced on this moment.

With a strangled cry, he brought the hammer down.

The resounding crack echoed like a gunshot.

As diamond shards skittered across the floor, Evelyn finally smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Maxwell produced another plastic bag—this one containing documents that made Alistair whimper.

The real game was just beginning.