Chapter 649
No.1
One year?
Far too short!
Alexander's knuckles whitened.
He knew exactly what she planned.
Did she truly think she could walk away after a year? Never.
"By the way, thank you today." Evelyn's voice cut through the tension like winter sunlight.
His rigid posture eased slightly. "For what?"
No.2
"The legal team." She left it at that.
The Kingsley Group's lawyers hadn't appeared by accident.
Officially, they'd investigated the forged cease-and-desist letter. In truth, they'd come to shield her.
"Hn." Alexander's acknowledgment was barely audible.
The charged atmosphere in the car gradually softened...
After the Wendy incident, Horizon Media's video division became noticeably quieter.
The troublemakers had left. Those who remained kept to themselves.
No.3
Evelyn threw herself into assembling a new team and preparing fresh programming.
Office rumors swirled—some claimed Xavier Stapleton faced attempted murder charges, while others whispered Hugo Lee had privately apologized to the Sullivans after a surface-level reconciliation.
Two days before the Sullivan gala, Roman Young returned.
Now bearing the Sullivan name as Roman Sullivan, he'd spent his post-hospital days adjusting to family life before reappearing at work.
"Evelyn." Transformed, his eyes alight with purpose, he handed her an ornate box. "You must come tomorrow. Mother prepared this gown—see if you like it. The designer can make adjustments."
Evelyn teased, "'Mother' rolls off your tongue rather easily."
Roman scratched his head sheepishly. "Just conveying her exact words. I'm clueless about women's fashion."
No.4
When Evelyn lifted the lid and saw the snow-white fabric, she froze.
"You dislike it?" Roman tensed.
"No, it's beautiful." She managed a faint smile.
White... How long had it been?
That color had vanished from her world after leaving Alexander.
"Never mind." Roman repacked the gown. "There are blue and purple options. I'll have them sent over."
Madam Sullivan had provided multiple dresses. He'd chosen his favorite white one, only to misread her reaction.
No.5
Years of hardship had honed his ability to read subtle cues.
"I actually have suitable attire," Evelyn said without insistence.
She truly wished to avoid white, but wouldn't refuse genuine kindness.
True healing meant no longer deliberately avoiding reminders.
Roman worked swiftly. Soon, an array of gowns arrived.
Trying them in her office, Evelyn admired Madam Sullivan's impeccable taste. They'd met only twice, yet the woman had gauged her measurements perfectly.
Each gown boasted distinct styles, all flawlessly fitted.
No.6
She finally selected an amethyst chiffon dress with delicate sleeves and a skirt dusted with sequins that shimmered like starlight.
"Please thank Madam Sullivan for me." She returned the others.
The Sullivans' goodwill, so long as it remained appropriate, she would accept.
Her family's downfall had taught her—there was no virtue in unnecessary pride.
On the gala evening, the Sullivan car arrived punctually.
Autumn's chill had set in. Evelyn arrived at the venue wrapped in a lilac trench coat.
When she shed the outer layer, the attendant's eyes widened at the vision in violet.
No.7
The ballroom lights seemed to converge on her alone.
Evelyn Sinclair entered in stilettos, and the air momentarily stilled.
"Whose daughter is that?" someone whispered.
"That dress..." A socialite tightened her grip on her champagne flute. "I tried it on and looked like a walking purple lantern."
Yet the violet sequined gown draped Evelyn's figure like it was custom-made. Not a single crease out of place, every seam sculpting her elegant curves to perfection.
"I remember now!" a guest gasped. "She's that journalist!"
Madam Zade rushed forward, eyes glistening. "Miss Sinclair!"