The final polish

Chapter 4

Evelyn's POV

When I got back from the office, the house felt quieter than usual. I went straight to Leo’s room. He was sitting on his play mat, quietly lining up his toy cars in a perfect, straight line. He didn't look up when I opened the door, but I saw his little shoulders stiffen.

"Hey, Leo," I said, sitting on the floor a few feet away from him. "Those are some fast cars."

He looked at me quickly, then back at his toys. "Blue one is the fastest. Daddy says it looks like his car."

"It does," I said. I picked up a small green truck. "Can I play for a minute? Just until I have to get dressed?"

Leo nodded slowly. "Okay. But don't crash them. I don't like when they crash."

"I won't crash them. I promise." We sat there for about fifteen minutes. I asked him about his lunch and if he liked the pancakes. He started to relax, even telling me about a bird he saw outside his window. It was a small, normal conversation, but to me, it felt like winning a marathon.

Eventually, Mrs. Higgins knocked on the door. "Madam, the stylist is here."

I stood up and kissed the top of Leo's head. He didn't flinch this time. "I have to go to a party with Daddy, but I’ll be back to tuck you in. And tomorrow, we can go to the park. Just us. Okay?"

Leo’s eyes went wide. "The park? With the big slide?"

"The biggest one," I promised. "Be good for Mrs. Higgins."

I walked to my room, feeling a new kind of energy. I had something to protect now. But as I walked past the guest room, I saw Sarah’s coat draped over a chair. I went into my dressing room and sat at my laptop one last time. I needed to be sure.

I logged into my personal bank portal—the one my father had set up for me years ago. I hadn't checked it in months because I usually just let Sarah handle my "boring" paperwork. My breath hitched as I scrolled through the statements.

There were dozens of transfers. Small amounts at first, then larger ones. Five thousand here, ten thousand there. They were all going to an offshore account I didn't recognize. But the most recent one—a fifty-thousand-dollar "investment" made just yesterday—had a memo line that Sarah forgot to hide: M.A. Project.

Marcus Adams.

She wasn't just helping him steal Caleb’s company; she was using my own money to fund his lifestyle. I felt a cold rage settle in my stomach. I wasn't just a pawn to them; I was an ATM.

"Madam? Should we start with the hair?" the stylist asked, entering the room.

"Yes," I said, closing the laptop. "And make it perfect. I want to look like someone you shouldn't mess with."

The next hour was a blur of hairspray, pins, and makeup. I sat perfectly still while they worked. Sarah popped in once, clutching a glass of champagne.

"Oh, Eve! You’re not wearing the red dress?" she asked, her voice high and annoying. "Marcus is going to be so disappointed. He said red is your color."

"I decided I like blue better today," I said, looking at her through the mirror. "It feels more... loyal."

Sarah laughed, oblivious. "Loyal? Since when do you care about that? Anyway, did you put the files on the drive? Marcus texted me three times already."

"It’s right here," I said, patting my silver clutch on the vanity. "Tell him he’ll get exactly what’s coming to him tonight."

"You're so dramatic today," Sarah tittered. "I love it! I'm going to go finish my eyeliner. See you at the car!"

Once she was gone, I pulled the small black flash drive out of my drawer. I had spent the last hour of my "irrelevant" hair appointment secretly finishing the encryption. It looked like a standard Kingston Enterprises backup drive. But inside, it was a mess of corrupted data and a tracking script that would ping Caleb’s security team the moment it was plugged into an external server.

I slipped it into my clutch.

I looked at my reflection. I wore the midnight blue dress. It was elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves, but it fit me perfectly. I didn't look like a girl playing dress-up anymore. I looked like the woman who was about to take down two of the most dangerous people in my life.

I heard the front door open downstairs. Caleb was home.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and walked out of the room. I felt the weight of the drive in my hand. It felt like a weapon.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw Caleb waiting in the foyer. He was in a tuxedo, looking incredibly handsome and incredibly tired. He was checking his watch, probably expecting me to be late or to come down screaming about my hair.

Then he looked up.

He didn't say anything at first. He just watched me walk down the stairs. The suspicious look he usually wore softened, replaced by something that looked almost like shock.

"You're ready," he said, his voice a bit rough.

"I told you I would be," I said, reaching the bottom step. I looked over at the side of the room where Sarah was waiting by the door, already checking her phone, probably texting Marcus.

I turned back to Caleb and slipped my arm through his. He stiffened for a second, then he looked down at my hand on his sleeve. He didn't pull away.

"You look... different, Evelyn," he whispered so Sarah wouldn't hear.

"I feel different," I said. "Are you ready to go?"

"The car is waiting," he said. He looked at Sarah, then back at me. "Are you sure about this? You usually want to take the separate limo with her."

"I'm sure," I said firmly. "I'm exactly where I need to be."

We walked out to the car together. I could feel Sarah’s eyes on the back of my head, probably wondering why I was acting so strange. I didn't care. I watched the sun setting over the driveway and thought about the gala.

The trap was set. Marcus was waiting for his prize, and Sarah was waiting for her payday. Neither of them knew that the woman they thought they knew had died in a penthouse months from now, and the woman standing here today was finished being their fool.

I squeezed Caleb’s arm as he helped me into the back of the car. He looked at me again, his brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn't let go of my hand as he sat down beside me.

"Tonight is going to be interesting," I murmured as the driver pulled away.

"I just hope it's peaceful," Caleb sighed.

I looked ou

t the window at the passing trees. "It won't be peaceful, Caleb. But it will be worth it.”