Evelyn stepped into the room. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor. She ignored the empty bottles and discarded jackets on the rug, walking straight toward the leather sofa.

Kenzie Locke picked herself up from the floor. She didn't look embarrassed at all. She smirked, pulled her silk strap back up her shoulder, and leaned against Preston's arm.

The other men in the room exchanged excited glances. They loved watching a trainwreck. One of them let out a low, mocking whistle.

Preston's face turned red, then white. He stood up, trying to puff out his chest to look like a man in charge.

"Evelyn, have you lost your mind? Who let you in here?"

Evelyn didn't even look at Kenzie. She reached into her leather bag and pulled out the crumpled repair estimate for the Rolls Royce.

She slammed the paper down onto the crystal coffee table. The glass table shook violently.

"Yesterday, while I was driving your Aston Martin to pick up your dry cleaning, I rear-ended someone." Evelyn's voice was ice cold. "This is the repair bill. Pay it."

Preston blinked. He looked down at the paper. His eyes scanned the seven-figure number at the bottom. Then his eyes locked onto the gold stamp at the top: Hawthorne Group Legal Department.

Preston sucked in a sharp breath. He stumbled back a step.

"Are you insane?!" Preston's voice cracked into a high pitch. Pure terror flashed in his eyes. "You hit Uncle Julian's car?!"

The words 'Uncle Julian' felt like a rusted needle jabbing directly into Evelyn's heart. Her stomach dropped, but she forced her face to remain completely blank, suppressing the sudden wave of nausea.

"It is your car, Preston. It is your liability."

Preston looked around the room. His friends were watching him, waiting to see if he would fold. His fear quickly turned into deep, ugly embarrassment. He swiped his hand across the table, knocking the estimate onto the floor.

"My car? You are the one who doesn't know how to drive! Why the hell should I pay a million dollars for your mistake?" He pointed a shaking finger at her face.

Kenzie covered her mouth and giggled. "Oh, Preston. Can't your poor little fiancée afford a simple car crash? How pathetic."

Evelyn shot Kenzie a look so sharp and cold that the socialite instantly shut her mouth and stepped back.

"Preston," Evelyn said, her voice dropping an octave. "If you do not pay this, the Hawthorne legal team will sue you directly. Do you think your father will let you keep your trust fund when you drag the family into a public lawsuit with Julian Hawthorne?"

Evelyn had grabbed him by his throat.

Preston's face twisted with panic. He knew she was right. If he pissed off the tyrant of the Hawthorne family, his father would cut him off completely.

He gritted his teeth. He reached into his jacket, pulled out his checkbook, and furiously scribbled a string of numbers. He ripped the check out.

Evelyn reached out her hand to take it.

Preston suddenly yanked his hand back. He held the million-dollar check high in the air. A sick, malicious smile spread across his face. He wanted his pride back.

"You want the money? Fine."

Preston pointed down at his expensive leather shoes. A drop of spilled champagne stained the toe. Then he pointed at Kenzie.

"Get on your knees. Apologize to Kenzie for ruining our morning."

The room erupted into loud laughter. The rich men started clapping. "Yeah! Make her kneel! On your knees, princess!"

"Or," Preston added, his voice dripping with cruelty. He reached out and tipped Kenzie's chin up. "You can crawl over here, kiss the tip of my shoe in front of everyone, and I'll hand you the check."

All the blood rushed to Evelyn's head.

A wave of humiliation so intense it made her physically dizzy washed over her. Her hands shook violently. Her fingernails dug into her palms until she felt warm blood.

She stared at the piece of paper in his hand. That check was the only thing standing between her and Julian's absolute control. It was the price of her freedom.

The room went quiet. Everyone was waiting to see the ruined heiress break.

Evelyn closed her eyes. Her chest heaved. Slowly, her knees began to bend.

Preston threw his head back and laughed. The sound was loud, victorious, and disgusting.

Just as Evelyn's knees were an inch from touching the carpet, the heavy velvet door of the VIP room suffered a catastrophic impact.

A deafening crash shook the walls. The entire door, along with the wooden frame, was kicked completely off its hinges. It flew through the air and smashed into the floor, kicking up a massive cloud of dust.

The laughter in Preston's throat died instantly.

Chapter 5

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