The manager of the boutique Evelyn and Jade had gone to, to seek employment was more than happy to hire them; one employee was leaving for a wedding and another for maternity leave. Between Jade's experience and Evelyn's natural elegance, they fit perfectly.
Finally, Evelyn felt a sense of peace. But as she counted the days on her fingers, she realized it had been nearly a week since she'd seen Michael.
"The Master has been living at the office quarters Madam," Mrs. May had told her that morning. "The merger is taking everything out of him."
Evelyn felt a pang of guilt. Despite their fight, he had saved her from jail. She decided to extend an olive branch. She packed a bag with fresh clothes for him and grabbed the keys to the Maserati.
Thorn International Headquarters
The security guards didn't recognize Evelyn's face, but they certainly recognized the license plate of the Maserati. She was waved through the underground garage and took the private elevator straight to the 70th floor.
When the doors opened, Dominic Cassian nearly dropped his coffee. He rushed to meet her, looking like a man who had seen a ghost,or a ticking time bomb.
"Hello, handsome. I'm here to see Michael," Evelyn said with a breezy, flattering smile. The female secretaries exchanged shocked glances. Who is this woman calling the President by his first name?
"Uh, Madam, the President is in a very important meeting," Dominic stammered, trying to block the door. "Let me go in and announce you."
"No need. I'm just dropping off clothes and leaving." Evelyn was too fast. She dodged Dominic and swung the heavy double doors open.
Dominic covered his eyes. I'm dead. We're all dead.
Inside the office, the scene was not what Evelyn expected. A young, stunning girl was sitting directly on Michael's lap. Michael was looking at her with a cold, focused intensity.
Evelyn's "apology smile" died instantly. It didn't just fade; it evaporated into pure, white-hot rage.
"MICHAEL THORN!"
The roar made the girl on his lap jump, and even the secretaries outside winced.
"Brother Michael, who... who is that?" Isabella Thorn asked, frozen in place. She had been pestering her brother for her upkeep advance, but she'd never seen a woman dare to scream at him like this.
Evelyn marched in on her French heels. She slammed the bag of clothes onto his desk, knocking several multi-million dollar contracts to the floor.
"I came here to apologize like a fool!" Evelyn shouted, pointing a finger at the bewildered Isabella. "And you? You're here soaking up 'future flowers of the motherland'! Little girl, don't let this mannequin fool you! He has a wife at home, a superstar on his phone, and apparently a wandering eye in the office! Run while you can!"
Isabella blinked, completely lost. Wait, she thinks I'm his mistress? This is amazing.
"Michael Thorn, you are an absolute scum!" Evelyn hammered her fists onto his desk twice for emphasis, spun on her heel, and stormed out.
"Stay right there!" Michael's command echoed, but Evelyn was already through the doors.
She stopped at Dominic's desk on the way out. "Dominic! Your boss is out here harvesting saplings! How can you allow this? Your supervision is a disaster!"
Dominic wanted to crawl into his desk. She's younger than you, Madam! That's his sister!
In the office, Isabella finally burst out laughing. "Michael, she is incredible! I have to be her friend. Who is she?"
"Out," Michael growled, his face a terrifying shade of stone. Isabella didn't need to be told twice; she grabbed her bag and bolted before the iceberg fully froze over.
Michael looked at the mess on his desk, then at the bag of fresh, neatly folded clothes. A strange, complicated emotion flickered in his eyes. She'd come to take care of him, only to find him in a compromising position.
"Dominic!"
Dominic snapped to a military-grade salute at the sound of the intercom. "Yes, Boss!"
"Handle the situation with Isabella. And find out where Evelyn went."
Evelyn was currently tearing out of the parking lot in the Maserati. Her blood was still boiling, but the memory of that night made her ease off the gas. She couldn't afford another high-speed chase.
Evelyn had reached her limit.
The next morning, Evelyn met up with Jade. "We're not going back to the mall," Evelyn told Jade firmly. "We're finding something new. Together."
They spent the afternoon at The Island Shopping Mall, where Evelyn treated Jade to an expensive set of French cosmetics. She swiped the card Michael had given her with a vengeful flourish. If he's going to let other women sit on his lap, I might as well spend his money, she thought, though the total on the receipt still made her wince. She bought an even better set for herself, an armor of vanity for the war ahead.
After dinner, Jade went home to tutor her brother, and Evelyn, still simmering with resentment, headed to the Poppy Bar.
The Poppy Bar was the antithesis of the rowdy SOHO. It was sleek, exclusive, and strictly managed. Evelyn booked a private room and began to sing or rather, roar. An hour later. Evelyn had only had two small glasses of hard liquor, but on an empty, angry stomach, she was completely gone.
Evelyn stumbled out of the room, barefoot and disoriented.
"Bathroom... where's the bathroom?" she mumbled. Her legs gave out, and she began to tip forward, only for a pair of strong arms to catch her from behind.
She looked up into a face that radiated calm authority. "Wow... you're really handsome," she giggled, leaning into his chest.
The man looked down at the flushed, drunken woman in his arms. Her again? Arise City was starting to feel very small. This was the third time they'd crossed paths in two weeks.
glancing behind her, he saw the open door of a room and put two and two together.
"I need the bathroom. I think I'm going to die," she groaned, collapsing against him.
The man's assistants moved to intervene. "Sir, this could be a setup. This woman is trouble."
"Don't worry about that," The man muttered, ignoring them. He carried Evelyn into the room and called for a female attendant. When the attendant arrived, she took Evelyn into the bathroom and the man stepped back outside. As the door was about to close behind him, a muffled ringing came from Evelyn's discarded bag on the sofa. He hesitated, then reached in and pulled out the phone.
Caller ID: My Husband.
The man's eyebrows rose. Married? He pressed the accept button.
"Evelyn," a voice called from the other end. It was deep, cold, and instantly recognizable to someone of the man's status.
"Hello," He replied calmly.
In the back of his car, Michael's eyes snapped open. The voice on the other end was cultured, masculine, and entirely too close to his wife.
"Where is Evelyn?" Michael's voice dropped to a dangerous octave.
"She's taking a bathroom break."
Beside Michael, Dominic Cassian felt the temperature in the car drop to sub-zero.
"Who are you?" Michael demanded and the man chuckled. He knew exactly who was on the other end. "Someone very interested in her."
"A pity," Michael hissed, his ego flaring. "She's married. To me."
"So what?" The man countered smoothly.
The line went dead. Michael didn't wait. He ordered Dominic to pull over, tossed him out of the car with a command to find a taxi, and tore toward the bar himself.
Michael stormed into the place like a force of nature.
He reached the suite and immediately, the door opened to reveal Evelyn laying on the sofa.
Michael's eyes practically spat fire. He lunged past the man at the door and went towards her.
"This is Evelyn's room," the man said. "I was just passing by!"
"And, you thought it was fun to irritate me? Mr. Sin." Michael muttered his voice a low, dangerous vibration.
Julian Sin bowed his head with a small smile. No one usually dared to threaten him, the leader of a sovereign nation, but Michael Thorn wasn't "anyone." Julian found himself becoming increasingly fascinated by the woman who had brought this iceberg to a melting point.
Just then, the girl on the Sofa, twisted and turned rousing attention from the two men.
"Evelyn! Sober up!" The man commanded. The sharpness of his voice acted like a bucket of ice water. Evelyn blinked, her vision clearing just enough to recognize the "mannequin" from the office.
"Scum," she muttered, the alcohol fueling her sarcasm. "What are you doing here? Go back to your 'Garden of Flowers'."
Michael fought the urge to toss her over his shoulder right then and there. He went towards her and carried her from the Sofa, then went out of the room, followed by Julian.
The two titans moved across the quiet corridor, their auras contrasting each other.
Michael threw the car into gear, driving toward the villa with a terrifying silence. Evelyn felt like she was floating, the world spinning in nauseating circles.
"Stop! I'm going to throw up!" she cried.
The brakes screeched as Michael pulled over. He got out, hauled her to the side of the road, and held her hair back as she retched. After she finished, he handed her a bottle of water. She rinsed her mouth until the bottle was empty, her head finally clearing by eighty percent.
"Feeling better?" he asked coolly.
Evelyn remembered the girl on his lap and decided to ignore him, heading back to the car. But before she could sit, Michael pulled her toward the back seat.
"Michael, stop! Not here..." she pleaded.
"Not here?" he whispered, his voice dark and melodic. "Was it okay for the other man back there? Did you want to catch him too? Hmm?"
Evelyn glared at him. "What are you talking about? He just helped me! Let go!"
Ignoring her struggle, Michael leaned in, his shadow looming over her. "Think about how I should punish you for all the trouble you've caused this week. The brawl, the car theft, the police chase... and now this."
The night grew thicker, and even the moon seemed to hide behind the clouds to avoid witnessing the storm inside the Car.