CHAPTER 7: What will be their relationship

"We can handle it, Evangeline; you can take a rest inside the car," Chris said seriously, straightening his whole body.

"Rest............. Why?" Evangeline sneered, flipping her hair back. "I'm the only one who knows everything about this house. So, it's easy to catch him, right?"

Chris and Michael exchanged a look of a lack of certainty.

"Guys..... I have a weapon!" Evangeline declared, opening her bag. "Chris, Michael, it's time. Grab your weapons," she whispered dramatically, handing them their tools.

She gave Chris a pair of scissors. "You can use this if that thief attacks me, got it...? We have to prove scissors aren't just for cutting paper." Her voice was serious.

Chris nodded, his eyes showing clear confusion as he scanned the harmless-looking scissors in his hand. What is this? Is this weapon going to attack the thief? I was trained for bodyguards, but she treated me like a kid, Chris thought and a disappointed smirk appeared on his lips.

Micheal, laughing at the corner of his mouth, raised an eyebrow at Chris, discreetly patting the Glock beneath his jacket.

Next, "This is for you; it's not that big, but we'll make it work, okay?" she handed Michael a knife.

Chris held his laugh, speaking with his eyes, My weapon is better than you, idiot.

"Why? You don't like that, do you want to exchange?" She asked, watching Michael's disappointed face.

"Nope, I am fine with this one............:"

Finally, she picked up a ruler for herself, holding it like a sword and striking a dramatic pose. Her eyes gleamed with determination.

"We're ready to attack. I'll go in first—follow my lead!"

They stayed still in the same place. She turned and counted her steps without glancing back. Chris and Michael glanced at each other, their minds telling them, "Now I understand why the previous bodyguards ran away."

Evangeline tightened her grip on the ruler and signalled with her hands to come. "Ready... One, two, three… go!" She said, running soundly toward the person sitting in the hall.

"Welcome home, my little cat," a familiar voice welcomed.

Evangeline froze for a second; her ruler fell from her hands, her gaze snapping to the couch where her brother, Max, sat casually with a book in hand, an amused smirk on his face.

"Shit! Idiot!!!!!!!!!!! You scared me. What are you doing here, Max?" she demanded, exasperated.

Max chuckled, closing his book placed on the table smoothly and walking toward her face. "Our parents didn't teach you how to respect your elders? Um! "

"I haven't seen you in about a month. I just felt like a missing sister, so I just want to check on you," he said in a deep voice.

Missing me, my ass, her lips twisted into a tight-lipped smirk, barely concealing her irritation. She knew her father was keeping close tabs on her these days, and Max was always a good liar when he needed to be. I can't blame him, though. He is my brother, Evangeline thought.

She returned his grin, schooling her features. "It's good to see you here, Max."

"Don't force a smile, little sis. I'm not staying here long. I’ll swing by every week or so, depending on how busy I am,” he grinned.

She let out a relieved sigh, a genuine smile spreading across her lips. My goodness! This was the best news I had heard all year, she thought.

Max snickered. " Anyway, I've got a business trip tomorrow, so I just inform you before leaving"

Evangeline hugged him tightly, her expression softening. "Okay, bro. Be safe... I'll miss you," she said, her voice warm.

Max hugged her back gently, patting her hair gently. "Be a good girl. I know you had a bad past; don't be afraid of anything, Eve," he said as he cared.

She nodded up and down.

Max adjusted his coat and walked near the door; he turned to the bodyguards, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Good luck, guys," he said. Christopher and Michael exchanged puzzled glances.

That evening, just before sunset, the bar burst with music and sound, flashing colorful lights everywhere. Nate, in a black oversuit and white shirt. stood at a reserved table, a drink in his hand, an elegant smile playing on his lips as he spoke with a man in his 50s, also sharply well-dressed.

Kim approached. "Nate, you have a call. It's your dad."

Nate excused himself and answered the phone. "Yes, Dad?" he said, his voice instantly professional.

His father's voice was steady. "I've reviewed all the documents. You need to sign the contract; it's a $10 billion deal."

"Understood, Dad," Nate replied, his tone unchanging.

He hung up, the weight of the $10 billion deal settling on his shoulders. He returned to the table, the contract lying open before him. He scanned the pages, his eyes lingering on a few key clauses.

He picked up his pen and hesitated for a moment before signing. The signature felt final and binding. He capped his pen and returned to his conversation with David.

As Nate returned to his conversation, David's phone buzzed insistently. The screen flashed a name: Ethan Winters. Nate paused mid-sentence, his gaze flicking to David's phone. Ethan Winters. The name echoed in his mind. What was the connection between them?

David glanced at the screen, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, and he excused himself before picking up the call. He answered briefly, his voice low. "Yes, Mr. Winters…"

He listened to the opposite call voice, then replied, "I'll let him know." He ended the call and placed the phone on his suit now and turned to Nate. "Everything in order, Nate?"

"Yes, David, "he said, signing his last paper.

After, "Okay, Nate Damien Blackwood, I will mail you further details." he said and handled every document and file. David left the place.

Across the bar, a figure in a black hoodie hides in the shadows of crowded people. They raised a camera, adjusting the angle.

Click. Click.

The figure snapped photos of Nate, their face hidden by the hood. Satisfied, they sent the photos to an unknown number and then slipped away into the night.