Chapter 2 The Deep End Of Betrayal
Evelyn Ross couldn't bring herself to believe that everything from last night had been orchestrated by Clara Sinclair.
Even though Evelyn had seemed slightly agitated when returning Liam Hayes' necklace at the wedding, inviting speculation about their relationship, she had after all not disrupted the ceremony. Besides, her cousin had always been kind-hearted and incapable of harming her.
After much thought, Evelyn decided to confront her cousin first. As she walked through the deserted corridor and turned the corner, she saw Clara leaning against the cabin door, smoking—a stark contrast to her usual demure image.
"Clara, about last night..." Evelyn approached.
Clara flicked the cigarette into the sea and turned, a wisp of smoke still on her lips. "Let's talk on the deck, cousin."
The unfamiliar look in Clara's eyes sent a chill down Evelyn's spine. Could last night's events really be related to her? No, there must be some misunderstanding...
The two walked along the observation corridor to the deck one after another. Clara stopped and looked back, a cunning glint in her eyes. "That man was carefully chosen for you. Did you like him, my dear cousin?"
Evelyn felt as if struck by lightning, staring at the person before her in disbelief. So this had all been premeditated—even if she hadn't returned the necklace at the wedding, the same thing would have happened.
She grabbed Clara's wrist fiercely, her trembling voice shattered by the sea wind. "Why would you do this to me?!"
"Because I was afraid you'd try to steal Liam from me again," Clara chuckled. "Although I'm married to him now, what if you rekindled your old feelings? After all, I'm the third party here. I had to plan ahead."
She shook off Evelyn's hand, her smile undiminished. "So I recorded your... 'intimate encounter' so Liam could see your sordid side. That way, he'd only feel disgusted by you."
The deck was deserted, and the early winter sea wind cut like a knife, but it couldn't compare to the searing pain in Evelyn's heart. She had never guarded against Clara!
Overwhelmed by betrayal and deception, Evelyn lunged at her. "I'll kill you!"
Clara was pushed halfway over the railing, her shawl torn away by the wind like a withered leaf floating into the sea. "You don't have the guts," she sneered.
Evelyn trembled in the cold wind. She truly wanted to push the viper before her into the abyss, but in the end, she released her grip—Clara was right, she couldn't do it. Even after everything!
"But I do." Clara's expression turned icy. Before the words finished, a burly bodyguard emerged from the shadows, clamping down on Evelyn's wrist and shoving her against the railing.
Caught off guard, Evelyn fell backward, flipping over the railing until only one hand clung to it. "Clara!" she instinctively cried her cousin's name, fear freezing her veins. Even now, she couldn't believe Clara would really kill her.
Clara looked down at her, a cruel arc on her lips. "Sis, once you're dead, Liam will be completely mine. Don't worry, I'll be happy."
As she spoke, her high heel stomped down on Evelyn's hand. Agony shot through Evelyn's fingers, and her grip faltered. She plummeted into the icy sea like a pebble, bitter saltwater flooding her mouth and nose. She struggled and screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the roaring waves.
The sun rose above the horizon, yet all Evelyn saw was darkness. Vaguely, she thought she saw her parents in heaven reaching out to her—When I'm dead, the cold will end. When I'm dead, maybe I'll be free...
Three years later.
At the entrance of the Film Festival Awards Ceremony, reporters from major media outlets had gathered early, the atmosphere buzzing. As an entertainment reporter for Starburst Media, Evelyn Ross arrived with her team leader, Baron Klein. Before the event, Team Leader Klein had repeatedly emphasized: industry sources indicated the organizers had invited a major figure as a guest presenter—likely Finn MacLeod, the new CEO of MacLeod's Group. Securing an interview with him would be a huge coup for the company.
The young female reporters around her lit up at the mention of Finn MacLeod, gushing nonstop. "Mr. MacLeod has an otherworldly aura, and his looks are breathtaking—no, not just breathtaking, but intimidatingly noble! Plus, he's decisive in business, showing the bearing of a seasoned leader despite his youth..." Everyone craned their necks in anticipation.
Evelyn was nervous too, but not because of Mr. MacLeod. She simply wanted to do her job well. Previously a foreign correspondent, she might never have returned to Crist City or stepped into this glamorous world of fame and fortune if not for the company's restructuring. But she needed money badly and had no choice but to follow orders.
To avoid being recognized by old acquaintances, she had deliberately applied an unflattering makeup: uneven, dull skin tone, topped with a wide-brimmed fisherman's hat. Even Baron Klein had stared blankly at her initially, exclaiming, "Strange! Most people use makeup to look prettier. Why are you doing the opposite?"
Evelyn smiled awkwardly. "I'm new to makeup, still getting the hang of it."
The photographer joked, "It works. With Miss Hall's beauty, other media might mistake you for a socialite!"
She ducked her head to hide her expression—"Skylar Hall" was her current alias.
Baron Klein laughed. "Fair enough, we're not here for the red carpet. Skylar, stay sharp. If we can't get MacLeod, interviewing last year's Best Actress would still be a win."
Evelyn's fingers curled slightly, but she nodded calmly, pulling down her hat to mask the hatred in her eyes.
Last year's Best Actress was none other than Clara Sinclair. Two years ago, Clara had entered the entertainment industry and skyrocketed to fame, her news impossible to miss. It didn't take much to deduce she had Liam Hayes' full support behind her rise.
Watching the woman who had tried to kill her thrive infuriated Evelyn, but she knew that as a lowly reporter, she had no power to confront Clara. She only wondered—did Liam Hayes know about Clara's venomous nature?
The crowd suddenly stirred. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the Royal Hotel entrance, and Clara stepped out in a golden evening gown, smiling radiantly under the flashbulbs. Her poised elegance made her the epitome of a beloved star, but who could forget that three years ago, she had viciously pushed her own cousin into the sea?
Recalling her struggles to survive these past years, Evelyn's nails dug into her palm. Distracted, she was suddenly shoved forward, crashing into the red carpet barriers and landing awkwardly on her knees at Clara's feet.
Gasps and snickers erupted. Evelyn kept her head down, gritting her teeth to stand, when another jostle threw her off balance—
A slender, elegant hand steadied her waist, and she stumbled into a cool, faintly scented embrace.