Chapter 2. Smiling Before the Ruin

Evelyn’s heels clicked softly against the plush carpet of the ballroom. Crystal lights shimmered off the wine glasses, lazy jazz floated through the air, but it was the whispers—low and awed—that filled the room as she stepped closer to the crowd.

“Lucas Callahan’s insane,” someone murmured from the corner. “Three years in and he’s already made the Callahan name skyrocket.”

“That must be his wife, right? She’s gorgeous. They look good together.”

“Yeah, heard she’s good at business too. Probably helped Lucas a lot.”

Evelyn kept her eyes on the couple under the grand chandelier. The man in the white suit stood confidently, wearing that calm, charming smile. Next to him, a woman in an elegant white gown looked polished and perfect. From afar, they looked like the perfect match.

If only that man wasn’t her husband.

Tightness crept into her chest as the compliments kept coming. Lucas was clearly soaking in the attention, while the woman beside him—Chloe—kept fixing her hair and stealing glances at him in a way that was too familiar. Their eyes spoke a language that didn’t need words.

Evelyn’s black gown brushed the floor as she stepped further into the room. She moved quietly, but her presence shifted the atmosphere the second she arrived.

Chloe spotted her and quickly pulled away from Lucas, smiling with forced sweetness. “You made it,” she said, voice too rehearsed.

“Evelyn,” Lucas turned and greeted her warmly, slipping an arm around her waist like nothing was wrong. Playing the doting husband like he was born for it.

Evelyn fought the urge to recoil at his touch. Her hand nearly slapped him away, but she held it in. Her eyes were cold, but her lips smiled as if she meant it. “What were you two talking about?”

“Oh, so you’re Mrs. Callahan. We’ve heard so much about you,” said one of the businessmen nearby, clearly trying to smooth things over.

People who had assumed Chloe was Lucas’s wife started picking up on the tension. They shifted, subtly, sensing something off.

Evelyn raised her glass with a calm smile and greeted a few familiar faces, voice steady.

Lucas, still clinging to his perfect husband act, gently took the glass from her hand and looked at her lovingly. “Babe, don’t drink too much.”

To outsiders, it looked like a sweet, caring gesture. Lucas and Evelyn—picture perfect. Successful. United. In love.

“Mr. Callahan and his wife look so in sync. I’m jealous,” someone nearby whispered.

Evelyn caught Chloe’s face hardening. She returned a thin smile, then leaned fully into the role she was expected to play. “Okay, babe. You drink for me, then.”

Lucas didn’t hesitate. He took the glass and downed it in one go, drawing applause from the crowd like they’d just witnessed some cute husband-and-wife moment.

Then suddenly, Chloe stumbled. Her wine spilled, bright red soaking into the fabric of her white dress. “Shit!” she gasped, panicked.

“Chloe!” Lucas immediately let go of Evelyn and rushed to her.

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, catching the quick, almost smug glint in Chloe’s eyes.

Chloe met her gaze with a sharp look before saying, “Evelyn, I totally ruined my dress. I’ve got a change of clothes in Lucas’s car. Do you mind if he takes me down there real quick?”

She looked at Evelyn like she was asking for permission, her expression soft—but Evelyn saw right through it. That look wasn’t guilt. It was a challenge.

She was the one who sent that photo. The rose tattoo on her shoulder wasn’t a coincidence. It was a message. A provocation.

And Lucas? What was his role in this?

Evelyn felt like glass had shattered inside her chest. She looked at the man beside her—his familiar face that once made her feel safe. But now, all of it felt fake.

Was Lucas part of this too? Was he letting this unfold, hoping she’d finally give up and ask for a divorce?

Still smiling like the world’s most devoted husband, Lucas said, “Evelyn, I’ll take Chloe to get changed, okay? You can stay and talk to the guests.”

The bitterness burned in her throat, but Evelyn smiled anyway. Thin. Empty. “Sure.”

As they turned and walked off, she stood still for a few seconds. Then slowly followed. Keeping her distance—not close enough to be obvious, but close enough to see where they were headed.

Lucas pressed the elevator button at the end of the hallway. The doors slid open. Chloe stepped in first, Lucas followed, and the doors began to close.

Evelyn reached the second elevator just moments later and hit the button. She stood stiffly, staring at the cold metal doors, her head spinning. Her breath was shallow. She couldn’t shake the image of Lucas’s back as he walked into that elevator... or Chloe’s smug little smile.

Her hand clenched her purse too tight, knuckles turning white. She could bust them right now—call them out, blow everything up. But her body didn’t move. It was like she was waiting. Waiting for something. She didn’t want to act on impulse and end up looking like the fool.

Ding.

The elevator next to her opened.

“Mrs. Sinclair?”

The voice pulled her out of her daze. She looked up.

Standing inside the elevator were Sebastian Reed and his assistant. The assistant had spoken. “Going down, ma’am?”

Sebastian didn’t say anything. But his eyes were sharp, cutting straight through her like he could see everything she was hiding.

“Thanks,” Evelyn murmured, barely audible. She stepped inside.

In that small, quiet space, Evelyn stared at her phone, unlocking and relocking the screen even though there were no new messages. The ride from the fiftieth floor felt like it lasted hours. She could feel Sebastian behind her. His cologne lingered in the air, crisp and expensive.

When the elevator reached the lobby, Evelyn walked out quickly. But then—

“Evelyn.”

She stopped and turned.

“Yes, Mr. Reed?” she asked flatly, keeping her voice steady.

Sebastian looked at her from the elevator, his eyes unreadable. “If this project’s too much for you, I can pull it. No problem.”

Evelyn blinked. He wasn’t talking about the project. He was testing her.

Her expression hardened. “Don’t worry, Mr. Reed. I know how to keep my personal crap out of work.”

Sebastian didn’t reply. His stare didn’t waver, but Evelyn felt like he’d just stripped her bare.

Then he gave the faintest smile and said, “Good.”

The elevator doors slid shut, taking him out of sight.

Evelyn stood still in the lobby, her heart pounding. That small, unreadable smile of his stayed stuck in her head as she turned and walked out of the building.

The night air was colder than she remembered. A few steps out, her eyes landed on Lucas’s car, parked not far away.

She walked toward it. But before she got close, something made her stop.

She heard sounds—faint, muffled moans coming from inside the car. It wasn’t the engine.

Her entire body froze. The car was moving. Just barely. But enough. A woman’s voice, a man’s low groan. Soft. Intimate. Unmistakable.

The doors were shut. The back windows fogged up. A handprint smeared across the glass.

There was no denying it now.

But instead of catching them in the act, Evelyn turned and walked away. Pretending to be the fool who didn’t know a damn thing.

Not tonight. Let them enjoy their little dance of lies and filth.

Their time was coming.