Ticking Time Bomb  

Chapter 5: 

Evelyn's POV

The sleek black town car purred away from the Kingston estate, its engine barely audible beneath the silence.

Inside, the climate control was set too low. Icy air cut across my bare arms despite the long sleeves of my midnight-blue dress.

But the cold wasn’t from the vents.  

It radiated from Caleb.

He sat rigid beside me, staring straight ahead like I didn’t exist. His broad frame filled the space, and every time the car turned, cedarwood and leather and cologne drifted toward me. I used to hate it. Tonight it was the only thing that felt familiar.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was a fortress.

Up front, Sarah shifted constantly. Her dress rustled against leather. Every few seconds her iPhone lit her face as her nails clicked across the screen.

Marcus was waiting. Good. Another step toward undoing my last life.  

Every tap reminded me of the betrayal that had killed me.

I rubbed my arms, shivering.  

Without looking at me, Caleb reached over and lowered the fan.  

It wasn’t kindness. It was a reflex. Preventing another scene. “Thank you,” I murmured. He didn’t answer.

“Eve,” Sarah called, not turning. “You’re awfully quiet. “Yeah ..Nervous about the press.. It's a big night for Kingston Enterprises.”  

“I understand”, she muttered with a knowing smile I guess.

Let them keep thinking I was the weak woman from my past life.

Twenty minutes later, the car slowed at the Kingston Foundation Gala.

A crimson carpet ran up marble steps. Velvet ropes held back a sea of photographers. Flashes lit the night while reporters shouted over each other.

Then our car hit the drop-off point. The moment they saw Caleb’s license plate, the crowd surged.  

“Caleb Kingston!”

“Mr. Kingston! Comment on the quarterly shares!”

The driver opened Caleb’s door. He stepped out looking untouchable. Instead of walking in, he paused.

He circled the car and opened my door before the valet could.

He didn’t offer his hand. He just stood there, shielding me. I stepped out.

The paparazzi froze for half a second. Then the flashes exploded. “Evelyn! Caleb! Together?” “Mrs. Kingston, united front tonight?” “First public appearance in two years. What changed?”

I slipped my arm through Caleb’s. His body stiffened. He didn’t pull away — cameras — but he didn’t acknowledge me either. 

We walked through. Behind us, Sarah hurried from the front seat, irritation barely hidden. She’d been cut from the shot.

Inside, the ballroom was a winter dream.  

Crystal chandeliers. Midnight-black velvet. Ice sculptures glowing under warm light. White orchids and crimson roses. A string quartet above the murmur of money.

The moment we cleared the entrance, Caleb removed my arm.  

“Play your part tonight, Evelyn,” he said flatly. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t embarrass my family on that stage.”

Before I could answer, I saw him. Marcus Adams.  

At the bar, scotch in hand, in the charcoal suit I’d bought him.  

Devastatingly handsome. The same arrogant smirk that once fooled me.  

He caught my eye and gave a slow nod.

The next hour was noisy. Handshakes. Small talk. Lydia in white, circling the board. My eyes kept going to the clock.  

9:30. 9:40.  

10:00. Time to drop the bomb in a flash drive..  

“I need the restroom,” I told Caleb quietly.  

He didn’t look at me. Just a distracted nod.

I slipped through the glass doors to the botanical gardens.  

Winter air bit instantly. Fairy lights in frost-covered hedges. Empty paths.

“You kept me waiting, Eve.”  

Marcus stepped out from behind the stone fountain. Eyes locked on my silver clutch. “Did you get it?”

“Of course.” I unzipped it. Pulled out the small black drive.  

“Everything, Marcus. The complete Kingston encryption keys.”

Greed flashed. “I knew I could count on you, beautiful.” He reached eagerly to snatch it.

I pulled back an inch. Studying the face of the man who’d ended me. “Promise me you’ll handle this carefully.”

He stepped closer, arm around me.  

“You can count on me. By tomorrow Caleb’s front-page news. And we’re on a plane. Finally free.”

I handed him the drive. Inside, I smiled. He’d just accepted his death sentence.

He pulled me into a hug. Every instinct screamed to shove him off.  

A shudder ran through me. I laughed softly into his shoulder to hide it. 

“Careful,” I whispered. “Someone might see.”  

“Let them,” he said, hands on my waist.

Then my eyes moved past him. My heart skipped.

Behind the glass doors, lit by the ballroom, stood Caleb. Watching. No rage. Only exhaustion.

  

His shoulders sagged like a man confirming what he’d always known. Another betrayal. From the wife he stopped believing in.

He turned and walked back inside. Panic hit my chest.

Marcus slipped the drive into his pocket, still smiling.  

“Ten thirty. South exit. We’ll be gone before the headlines drop.”  

He walked away, disappearing by the coat check.

My hands shook. I waited two minutes. Then followed.

Of course, he couldn't wait till 10:30 pm. On a small table beside a hidden pillar. With Laptop open. 

The ballroom was muffled behind him.  

He glanced around, smug, and pulled the drive out.

He plugged it in. The screen flickered.

  

A folder: `KINGSTON_ENCRYPTION_MASTER`  

Inside: hundreds of files. `Q4_Financials`. `Board_Votes`. `Offshore_Accounts`. `Acquisition_Protocols`. All locked with the Kingston cipher. All labeled exactly how he’d dreamed.

Marcus exhaled. A low, victorious laugh.  

“Got you,” he whispered to the screen.  

He leaned back, rolling his shoulders like he’d won a war.

He had no idea the files were hollow. No idea the drive was counting down. No idea that in six hours, every account tied to that cipher would start bleeding.

He closed the laptop. Slipped the drive into his jacket. Stood. Victorious. Untouchable.  

Doomed.

Across the ballroom, Caleb was still watching me.  

Shoulders slumped. Eyes empty. 

Believing I was still a vain socialite. The troublemaker. If only he knew.

The bomb I deliver is on a countdown to Marcus's death.