~Evelyn’s POV ~
My reflection in the full-length mirror felt like I was staring at a stranger.
Gone were the sharp, structured lines of my blazers and the starched collars that served as my daily armor.
In their place was something…
soft.
Feminine.
I had chosen a slip dress of deep, midnight-burgundy gown that clung to my frame like a second skin, leaving my shoulders bare and exposing the curve of my collarbone.
I looked less intimidating and approachable.
Or at least, that was the intention.
Reaching up to adjust my diamond earring, my fingers suddenly stilled.
My focus blurred, and for a split second, I didn’t see my own cold expression in the glass.
I saw Clara.
Not the terrified, fragile girl I had dragged away from the Sterling mansion, but the woman I saw in the art studio.
I remembered the sudden spark in her eyes when she held a paintbrush, that raw, unguarded burst of joy that had made my heart stutter for a heartbeat i still hadn’t accounted for.
A strange, unwelcome warmth stirred in my chest, a feeling of lightness that terrified me.
I pushed it down ruthlessly, letting out a sharp, steadying breath.
“Focus, Evelyn,” I told my reflection.
“She is just an acquisition. A cog in a machine. Nothing more.”
I grabbed my clutch and stepped out of the room.
To my surprise, Clara was still in there, sitting exactly where I had left her before going upstairs to change.
When she looked up at me and our eyes met, the space between us went completely quiet.
Her curious eyes slowly traveled the lines of the gown, lingering on my bare shoulders with a raw, quiet wonder.
Her silent stare made me feel far more exposed and self conscious than the dress ever could.
I saw her swallow, her pulse fluttering at the hollow of her throat.
For the first time since I become who I am, I felt a sudden wave of panic wash over me.
I wanted to look away, but the intensity in her eyes kept me rooted to the spot.
“Goodnight,” I finally found my voice.
The word sounded too quiet, carrying a slight rasp I couldn’t quite smooth over.
Clara didn’t answer.
She just kept staring, her lips parted slightly as I stepped past her.
As I brushed by, the faint, clean scent of her vanilla shampoo drifted over me, clinging to my senses all the way out to the car.
Stepping on the gas I drove out of the estate, the engine’s low purr the only sound in the quiet night.
The leather steering wheel felt cold under my palms, a welcome contrast to the warmth still lingering under my skin.
I needed the noise of the city to drown her out.
By the time the gates of the Venus Club appeared ahead, I had successfully hauled my mask back into place.
The moment I stepped out of the car, the club’s owner, a polished man in his mid-thirties, hurried forward.
He was flanked by a small army of staff in matching uniforms.
“Good evening, Ms. Vance,” the staff chorused, bowing in perfect unison.
“We are deeply honored to have you with us tonight, Ma’am.”
The owner offered a theatrical, slightly dramatic bow.
“Forgive me, where are my manners? I am Rafael Pantova, the owner of Venus. The moment I heard you were coming, I personally ensured that everything tonight is… absolute perfection.”
I gave him a brief, dismissive nod, mentally rolling my eyes at his posturing.
Men like Rafael didn’t see a person when they looked at me; they just saw a walking bank account.
“Lead the way, Rafael,” I said.
“It would be my absolute pleasure. This way, please.”
He led me to a private, glass elevator that bypassed the main floors, opening directly into the VVIP lounge.
The air up here was different, thick with the scent of old money, expensive cedarwood cigars, and the rich smell of vintage cognac.
And there she was.
Catherine was dressed elegantly across a plush sofa, the shifting neon lights from the glass floor below bathing her in shades of blue and purple.
The glow caught the perfect, breathtaking symmetry of her face, features that were currently plastered across billboards all over the country and abroad.
Over a decade ago, when I first ran away from home, Catherine and I had met with nothing but ambition and hunger to make our own names. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
She had her beauty and a natural talent for drama; I had a sharp, calculating mind and razor sharp instinct for business.
Now, she was the country’s top A-list actress and the founder of a massive fashion empire.
But to me, she was just Kathy.
The only person in the world allowed to see the woman behind my “Ice Queen” mask.
The moment our eyes met, her face lit up with a smile so warm it felt physical.
It was a contagious look, and despite my best efforts to stay stoic, I felt the corners of my mouth lift in response.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she purred, springing from the sofa and wrapping her arms tightly around my neck, paying no mind to the other VVIP guest.
I let out a rare, light chuckle at her theatrics, feeling the lingering tension of the day finally begin to fade.
She had always been like this, dramatic, tactile, and relentlessly affectionate.
“If you keep holding me like an octopus, Kathy, I might actually suffocate,” I teased.
She finally pulled back, though she kept her hands resting on my waist, looking up at me with an intensity that would have made anyone else blush.
“Don’t you think it should be illegal to look this gorgeous? Honestly, Eve, every time I see you, I’m mesmerized all over again.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
If I wasn’t so used to her actress persona, I might have taken her seriously.
Catherine lived her life in front of a camera; she didn’t know how to turn off that “romantic lead” energy, even around her best friend.
Deciding to play along with her drama, I smirked.
“You’re right. It’s a heavy burden. Let’s just get married and save the world the trouble.”
Her reaction was instantaneous.
Her hands loosened around my waist and she stepped back a full inch.
Her expression flickered with a strange mixture of panic and a deep, sudden shyness.
A rosy color rushed to her cheeks, and I was certain it wasn’t just the club’s lighting.
“Eve… don’t tease me like that,” she pouted, crossing her arms in a fake display of annoyance.
So dramatic, I thought, amused by how easily I could fluster her.
She’s probably terrified that a headline like that would ruin her brand anyway.
“Come, sit with me,” she finally said, her voice a little softer than before as she took my hand and led me to the sofa.
We gave our drink orders to a waitress who stood at a respectful distance.
The moment she retreated, I reached into my clutch and pulled out a small, velvet-wrapped box.
“Congratulations on your new milestone,” I said, handing it to her.
“Opening a fashion house in Milan is quite the trophy.”
“Aww, Eve… you didn’t have to,” she beamed, her eyes sparkling as she tore into the packaging.
The smile she wore now was three times brighter than the one she had greeted me with.
“It’s beautiful,” she cooed, staring at the diamond-encrusted bracelet inside.
She looked up at me, her eyes lingering on my lips for a fraction of a second before jumping back to my eyes.
“Help me put it on?”
I took the bracelet from the box and leaned in close, carefully clasping the diamonds around her left wrist.
The stones looked perfect against her skin.
The waitress returned a moment later, placing our drinks on the low table before retreating to the very edge of the VIP lounge, leaving us in complete privacy.
I swirled the liquid in my glass, watching the ice chip against the crystal before taking a slow, deep sip.
The scotch was top-shelf, burning the back of my throat before settling into a steady, comfortable warmth in my chest.
For a moment, it worked like a shield, blocking out the restless, unsettled thoughts I had brought with me from home.
“I heard a rumor circulating through our circle,” Catherine whispered, leaning in so close that the faint, sweet scent of her floral perfume whizzed across my face.
I raised an eyebrow.
Usually, I had no patience or interest for socialite gossip, but coming from Catherine—who sat at the center of every powerful table in country, it was usually accurate data.
“And what are the streets whispering about this time?”
“They’re saying you’ve partnered with the Sterlings,” she murmured.
“That you threw a massive lifeline to a sinking ship. Is it true, Eve? People are wondering if you’ve finally lost your touch.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Julian or his pathetic father had leaked the rumor themselves, hoping my name would bait other investors into their sinking mess.
“I didn’t partner with them, Kathy,” I said, meeting her curious gaze with cold finality.
“Which asset?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with genuine curiosity.
She was an actress afterall, always looking for the twist in the script.
For a split second, Clara’s quiet, vacant eyes flashed in my mind.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” I said, offering her a subtle, knowing smirk before taking another sip of my drink.
“And you know me… I like to keep my acquisitions quiet until they’re ready for the market.”
Before my glass could even touch the table, a waitress appeared silently, refilling it.
I stood up, wanting to stretch my legs, and walked to the edge of the VVIP balcony.
Below us, the high-stakes casino floor was packed, bathed in a sea of lights and desperate players.
Catherine came to stand beside me, her shoulder gently brushing mine.
“Maybe one day we’ll try our hand at the baccarat tables,” she murmured, looking down at the crowd.
“I have better ways to burn my money, Kathy,” I replied.
We were talking about the upcoming fashion week when a familiar, arrogant stride caught my attention.
Julian Sterling walked onto the casino floor, looking as smug as if he owned the place.
He was flanked by a striking, sharp-eyed woman who looked like a professional predator.
Another mistress already, I thought, a cold smirk tugging at my lips.
Painfully predictable.
I watched him order a round of vintage champagne, puffing his chest out as he spent money that was technically a loan from me.
Go ahead, I thought, watching with quiet satisfaction.
Let’s see how fast a fool burns through billions he didnt own.
“I have to go home, Kathy,” I said abruptly.
The mere sight of Julian made the club feel stale.
“Already?” she pouted, her lower lip trembling in that perfect, practiced way that had won her so many awards.
“Eve, we’ve only been here for two hours.”
I couldn’t help but reach out and pinch her cheek.
She was a twenty-five-year-old fashion mogul in her own right, but around me, she still acted like a lonely child who hated being left alone.
I saw a brief flicker of disappointment cross her features before she quickly masked it with a smile.
“It’s late, and I have an important appointment at seven tomorrow,” I said.
Though it was technically true but mind went straight to the quiet girl in the North Wing.
“Sleep over at my place, then,” Catherine suggested, grabbing her clutch.
“It’s ten minutes from here anyway, right next to your office. We can have breakfast like we used to.”
The offer was tempting.
In the past, I would have accepted without a second thought.
But tonight, the idea of sleeping under any roof that wasn’t my own felt…
wrong.
I had a guest who required my personal oversight.
Or at least, that was the excuse I gave myself.
“Tempting, Kathy. But I can’t. Not tonight. Next time, I promise.”
“Fine,” she sighed, though she lingered for a long moment before she finally let me go.
The cool night air hit my face like a reset button the moment I stepped outside.
I wound down the windows of my car, letting the roar of the wind fill the cabin as I hit the expressway.
I had gone to the club to drown out the thoughts of the woman i had brought home.
I had drunk expensive scotch, laughed with my best friend, and watched my enemy take his first steps toward ruin.
And yet, as the glittering skyline of city blurred into streaks of light, the only thing on my mind was the condition I had set for Clara.
I wondered if she was asleep.
Or if she was already working on the canvases I had bought for her.
Stepping on the gas, I raced back to the estate that had suddenly started feeling like a home.
Thank you so much for reading this chapter and sticking with Evelyn and Clara’s journey!
It really helps the story grow!
Question for you guys: What are your first impressions of Catherine (Kathy)?
Do you think she’s just a really clingy best friend, or is there something more there?
Let me know what you think in the comments!