Chapter 11

Evelyn's POV

The room went quiet.

I could feel eyes on my back. Sense the shift in atmosphere. I didn't care. All my focus was on these two women who thought they could tear Adrian apart and face no consequences.

Scarlett opened her mouth. Probably to make excuses.

I stepped closer. Invaded her space. Her eyes widened with fear.

"Let me make something very clear." Each word dropped like a stone. "Say whatever you want about me. Call me a gold digger. A fraud. I don't care. But if I ever hear you speak about Adrian that way again, I will make you regret it. Understand?"

"You can't threaten us," Vivian said. But her voice shook. "We didn't do anything wrong—"

The slap came before I'd decided to do it.

My hand connected with Scarlett's cheek. The crack echoed through the silent room like a gunshot. She stumbled back with a cry. Hand flying to her face. Eyes wide with shock.

I felt nothing.

No satisfaction. No guilt. Just cold calculation that this had been necessary.

For a moment, Scarlett just stood there, stunned. Then her shock twisted into outrage.

"You bitch!" She lunged forward, but Vivian grabbed her arm. "You can't just—how dare you! Someone do something! She assaulted me!"

Her voice went shrill. Heads turned. A few guests shifted uncomfortably, but no one moved to help her.

"You hit me!" Scarlett's free hand still pressed against her reddening cheek. "In front of everyone! What gives you the right—"

"The right?" I cut her off. My voice stayed calm. Level. Which somehow made it more cutting than if I'd shouted. "I'm Arthur Winthrop's widow. This is my husband's wake. In my family's home."

I took a step closer. She flinched back.

"You walked into my house," I continued, each word precise and cold, "wore an inappropriate dress to my husband's funeral, drank my champagne, and used my grief as an opportunity to spread vicious lies about my stepson."

Scarlett's mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.

"So yes," I said softly. "I have every right to discipline guests who disrespect this family. Especially ones who mistake a wake for a social climbing opportunity."

"That's not—I wasn't—" Scarlett looked around wildly for support. "Vivian, tell her! We were just talking! She can't treat us like this!"

But Vivian had gone very quiet. Very pale. Smart enough to know when to shut up.

"You were 'just talking,'" I repeated. "About how disgusting my stepson is. About his supposed Oedipal complex. At his father's funeral." I tilted my head slightly. "Tell me, Scarlett. What exactly did you expect would happen when I overheard you?"

She had no answer for that.

"That," I said, gesturing to her red cheek, "was for using that filthy tone when talking about Adrian. He's the Winthrop heir. Not gossip for social climbers to tear apart for entertainment."

I turned to Vivian. She looked like she wanted to run but couldn't move.

"And you. You encouraged her. Added your own poison. Feel clever now?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Real fear in her eyes now. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry you got caught." My voice stayed level. Conversational. Somehow that made it worse. "Not sorry for what you said. Not sorry for trying to destroy someone's reputation because you're bored and cruel."

Movement behind me. Someone coming to intervene.

I wasn't done.

"Stay away from Adrian," I said. My voice dropped lower. Took on the edge Viktor's had when making promises instead of threats. "Stay away from me. And if I hear you spreading these lies again, slapping you will be the least of your problems. Clear?"

They both nodded frantically. Scarlett still holding her red cheek. Vivian looking ready to cry.

Good.

Let them be scared.

I turned away without waiting for a response. Found myself facing a room full of stunned guests. The silence was deafening. Everyone staring. Some shocked. Some disapproving. A few looking almost... impressed.

My eyes found Adrian across the room.

He stood frozen by the casket. His face carefully controlled. For a moment our gazes locked. I saw surprise flash in his eyes. Concern. Something else I couldn't name.

I looked away.

Couldn't think about Adrian right now. About what he'd just witnessed. What he thought of me. Whether I'd just destroyed whatever fragile peace existed between us.

Then I noticed her.

Catherine on the staircase. One hand gripping the bannister. Face pale. Eyes wide.

She was staring at me.

And in her expression I saw something that made my stomach clench.

Fear.

Catherine was afraid of me.

She'd tried to hit me hours ago. Screamed her hatred in my face. Now she was looking at me like I was dangerous. Unpredictable. Like she'd just realized I wasn't the harmless woman she'd expected.

I looked away from her too.

Scanned the room one more time. Cataloging reactions. Then I spotted Adrian moving toward me. Expression concerned. Determined.

I couldn't face him right now.

Couldn't explain. Couldn't justify what I'd just done.

I needed to leave. Needed air. Space. Distance from all these watching eyes.

But before I could move, a figure stepped into my path.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black suit that looked both respectful and vaguely threatening.

A stranger.

But something about him set off every alarm Viktor had installed in my head. He was too composed. Too watchful. His pale gray eyes assessed me with professional precision that had nothing to do with social curiosity.

Everything to do with threat evaluation.

He smiled.

It didn't reach his eyes.

"Quite a performance, Mrs. Winthrop."