Evelyn glanced sideways.

She saw Marcus’s hand slip.

The dark liquid poured onto Margaret’s expensive suit.

A large, ugly stain spread instantly.

Marcus gasped, feigning shock. "Mrs. Blackwood! My deepest apologies! This was so clumsy of me!"

Margaret sighed, her expression tight. "It's fine. Just help me get this cleaned."

She turned to Evelyn. "Wait here, Evelyn. I won't be long."

"Alright," Evelyn replied softly, her mind already racing.

As they departed, Evelyn set her coffee cup down.

She had no intention of drinking any more.

Instead, she used the moment to study the lounge.

Every detail for Eleanor’s birthday celebration had to be flawless.

But something felt wrong.

A sudden dryness tightened her throat.

A wave of dizziness washed over her.

Her head spun.

Evelyn’s brow furrowed in alarm.

She knew immediately.

This wasn't right.

Connecting the dots from the evening, a cold dread seized her.

She had to get out.

Now.

She rushed to the door.

Her hand twisted the knob.

It was locked.

Solid. Unmoving.

Her heart plummeted.

Margaret.

This was Margaret's doing.

Panic rising, she pulled at the door again.

It didn't budge.

It was hopeless.

Meanwhile, Margaret and Marcus had walked further down the hall.

Margaret, now changed into a fresh outfit, scowled.

She was irritated about the ruined designer suit, even though it served its purpose.

She stopped abruptly and fixed Marcus with a stern look. "That will be all. You may go. Remember, not a word about tonight. You will be compensated handsomely."

Marcus grinned, nodding obsequiously. "Of course, Mrs. Blackwood. My lips are sealed."

Even after he left, Margaret felt a flicker of annoyance.

The suit was ruined beyond repair.

Those stubborn coffee stains.

This was all Evelyn's fault.

Her mood soured.

But then she remembered.

Evelyn was trapped.

A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips.

Her recent efforts to lower Evelyn's guard had worked perfectly.

Margaret knew the game well.

A soft heart was a weakness.

A liability.

"Evelyn should be completely subdued by now," she murmured to herself. "The next act is about to begin."

Her lips twisted into a contemptuous smirk.

Theodore wanted Evelyn.

He wanted her to divorce Alexander so he could have her.

But Margaret was certain.

Theodore didn't truly care for Evelyn.

His interest was purely physical. Primal.

He just wanted to conquer her.

The stage was perfectly set.

Theodore wouldn't miss this opportunity.

Once he had Evelyn, he would honor their deal.

He would free her son, Harrison.

Her thoughts drifted to Alexander, oblivious in his wheelchair.

"Poor Alexander," she thought with mock pity. "So clueless that his precious wife will soon belong to another man."

She felt no fear of Alexander.

What could a powerless cripple do against a man like Theodore Vance?

The thought made her feel invincible.

Confident, she pulled out her phone.

Her fingers typed a quick message to Theodore.

"Mr. Vance. The package is secured. Room 3093, The Regal Crestwood lounge. She's waiting for you."