The ink painting wasn't the work of a master painter, but it held the only piece of Evelyn's soul that remained unbroken.
"Julian, stop," Evelyn whispered, her hand trembling on his sleeve. "It's just a painting. Don't waste this kind of money on a grudge."
Julian Sin looked down at her, a calm smile playing on his lips. "If it matters to you, the price is irrelevant."
Across the room, Michael Thorn raised his paddle with a lethal chill. "Thirty million."
Julian finally lowered his hand, yielding the floor, and the he auctioneer's hammer fell. "Thirty million! Sold to Mr. Thorn!"
Evelyn bit her lip. Thirty million. Michael was a fool, burning money just to prove he could still own her past.
As the night progressed, the tension only thickened. Julian secured a twenty-million-dollar antique, while Michael dropped fifty million on a French landscape. By the time the final guests were ushered out, Evelyn's smile felt like it was carved from stone.
As they reached the parking lot, Michael's car was parked horizontally across the exit, blocking Julian's path. Michael was leaning against the hood, his suit jacket draped over his shoulder, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked decadent, dangerous, and entirely focused on the woman in the red dress.
"Mr. Thorn, please move your car," Julian's driver requested, shivering under Michael's icy aura.
Michael took a final puff, crushed the ember under his shoe, and pointed at Evelyn. "Let her come and talk to me."
"Mr. Thorn," Julian intervened, stepping forward. "Aren't you in a hurry to get back to your 'partner,' Erica Jones?"
"I don't need to 'accompany' other women when I have my wife," Michael countered, lighting another cigarette. "But Mr. Chancellor, is your Country so short on women that you have to pester and cling to mine? Do you need me to ship you a dozen?"
Julian laughed, a sound that lacked any real mirth. "Quantity isn't the issue. It's about... taste. And mine happens to lean toward yours."
Evelyn had seen and had enough from both of the men. She strode forward, snatched the lit cigarette directly from Michael's hand, threw it to the pavement, and ground it into the asphalt with her eight-centimeter heel.
"I'm not allowed a single puff, but you're out here chain-smoking?" she snapped. Unlike Erica, who would have gently pleaded with him to stop, Evelyn's fury was raw and direct.
Michael didn't look at the cigarette. He looked at Julian. "Are you finished with my wife?"
"If you don't cherish her, Michael, someone else will," Julian replied, his voice dripping with provocation.
The air snapped. A figure blurred past Evelyn's face, a jacket was tossed, and suddenly, the Chancellor and the CEO were trading blows. Both men's bodyguards rushed in to pull them apart, and they both retreated with bruised jaws and burning eyes.
"Are you two teenagers?!" Evelyn screamed, throwing her own wrap onto the ground. "Keep fighting. Tomorrow morning, the entire world can watch the Chancellor and a CEO brawl over a woman like children!"
She turned on her heel, the sound of her heels echoing through the lot as she marched toward the main road.
"Stay away from my wife!" Michael roared.
"Start treating her like one first!" Julian shouted back.
Evelyn was halfway down the block when Michael's car roared up beside her. Michael leaned out, his face bruised but determined. He pulled her into the passenger seat, locking all four doors before she could jump back out.
"You're brave, Evelyn," Michael hissed, his eyes reflecting the dashboard lights. "Flaunting yourself in public with another man?"
"And you?" Evelyn yelled back. "Bringing a murderer into our home, playing house while I'm a ghost? You're the one who's heartless!"
"Playing house?" Michael leaned over her, his shadow suffocating. "Is that what you think?"
"I think you're a hypocrite! Let me out!"
"Are you scolding me?" Michael's voice dropped to a dangerous low. "No one talks to me like that and gets away with it. You need to be punished."
"I'm not going back to a house shared with Erica!"
Michael sneered, the jealousy he had been suppressing all night finally boiling over. "What's the matter? Thinking of climbing the wall to Julian Sin's villa already?"
"Maybe I am!" Evelyn challenged, her eyes red with unshed tears. "Better a new wall than a husband who's already cheated on our marriage with his 'Saint'!"
The rain-slicked streets of Arise City blurred past the car's window as the argument inside reached a new pitch. Michael Thorn didn't just look angry; he looked like a man who had finally run out of patience for the games his wife was playing.
"You think I cheated?" Michael let out a short, cynical laugh. "What evidence do you have, Evelyn? Or are you just projecting your own guilt?"
"What evidence do you have that I took our child away?" Evelyn threw the question back at him, her voice trembling. "How could you just decide it was me?"
"Evidence?" Michael slammed the brakes, pulling the car to a halt with a violent jolt. "Your hospital registration, the diagnosis sheet, your own signature on the consent form, is that enough for you?" He unbuckled his seatbelt and practically hauled her from the front seat into the back, his eyes dark. "You killed my child, Evelyn. You owe me. One won't make up for it. You'll give me five children."
"Five?" Evelyn gasped, pushed back against the leather. "Do you think I'm a sow?"
The next morning, the atmosphere at Springfield Villa was on a new low. Michael and Evelyn sat at opposite ends of the breakfast table, not a single word passing between them. Erica Jones sat in her usual place, waiting for Michael to notice her, acting as if the previous night's brawl in the parking lot had never happened.
The doorbell rang, and Dominic walked in, carrying a leather portfolio.
"Boss, the paperwork for the three vehicles you ordered is finalized," Dominic said, laying three sets of keys on the table. "We have the latest Tesla, one of the only two in the world. Then there's the red Mercedes for the young lady, and the limited-edition Ferrari for Miss Jones."
Evelyn's hand shot out, snatching the Ferrari keys before Erica could touch them. "Wait a minute, Dominic. Whose name is on this title?"
Dominic wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, sensing the shift in the air. "According to the Boss's instructions, it's in Miss Jones's name."
"Thank you, Michael!" Erica gushed, reaching out to clasp Michael's hand on the table. "I've wanted this model for a while now."
Evelyn stared at their joined hands, a cold smile touching her lips. "Michael, change the name. Give it to anyone else, but it cannot be her."
Erica's triumphant smile turned into a look of grievance. Michael didn't even look up from his coffee. "It won't be changed," he said firmly.
"No change? Fine," Evelyn laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. She dropped the keys heavily onto the table, the metal leaving a permanent scratch in the wood. "Then as of today, this family no longer has an Evelyn Meyers. I'll help you out."
Evelyn stormed upstairs to pack. She didn't care about the luxury; she just couldn't breathe in the same house as a murderer and a husband who rewarded her.
Downstairs, Michael elegantly wiped his lips. He looked at Dominic. "Dominic, change the Ferrari's registration to Mrs. Thorn."
The room went silent. Erica's face turned ashen. "Michael! You know it's not about the car, you have to give me some face!" But, Michael didn't respond. He stood up and followed Evelyn upstairs.
He found her throwing her things onto the dresser. "I'm leaving," she snapped. "I don't want anything you bought me." "Anyways, you took back the card you gave me!!"
Michael was sebt for a while, then spoke.
"I bought your clothes, too," he said, leaning against the doorframe.
"I'll pay you back!"
"No," He stepped into the room, his eyes scanning her. "If you want to walk out of this door claiming you want nothing of mine, then take off the clothes. I bought your dress. I bought your underwear. If you want to leave, leave naked."
Evelyn glared at him, her eyes red with fury. "Fine! I'll take them off! And don't blame me when I call another man to come pick me up!" She reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Julian Sin's contact.
Michael moved like a predator, pinning her against the door and snatching the phone away. "Calling your Chancellor to come and rescue you? Was that your plan?" He breathed on her face.
"I don't care about your affairs Michael, so stop caring about mine!" She tried to shove his chest away.
"You have no rights here, Evelyn. You killed my child," he hissed, his face inches from hers.
"How do you even know it was yours?" she spat, a reckless lie born of pure spite.
And the temperature in the room dropped. Michael's grip on her chin tightened, his eyes turning to ice. "Irritating me is a dangerous game Evelyn. If you ever carried another man's child Evelyn, I would kill you myself."
Evelyn shivered, but she had a meeting with Julian about an interview at a major entertainment company, and she couldn't be late. She suddenly changed tactics, wrapping her arms around Michael's neck and pressing a kiss to his lips.
Michael was momentarily stunned, his hand relaxing. Evelyn took the opportunity to sink her teeth into his lip. He recoiled with a hiss of pain, his lip bleeding.
"You bastard!!!" she shouted, darting out of the room before he could recover.