Always make you mine

Episode Four

Evelyn stared at her phone screen in the dim light of her bedroom. Another rejection email. The familiar words “we regret to inform you” made her chest feel tighter with each passing day.

A soft knock sounded on her door.

“Evelyn?” Zara’s determined voice filtered through. “Open up. I’m not leaving until you do.”

With a heavy sigh, Evelyn unlocked the door. Her best friend stood there with hands planted firmly on her hips, looking every bit as stubborn as she sounded.

“You’ve been hiding away in this house for days,” Zara said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Your mom told me what’s happening with the company. I’m really sorry, but sitting here worrying yourself sick isn’t going to fix anything. You need to get out for a few hours and breathe.”

“I’m really not in the mood,” Evelyn muttered, sinking back onto the edge of her bed.

“Exactly why you’re coming with me.” Zara grabbed her arm gently but insistently and pulled her up. “There’s a new Italian restaurant downtown—nothing too fancy, just good food and a decent atmosphere. My treat. You need a break from all this stress. Twenty-eight days or not, you can’t help your parents if you burn yourself out completely.”

After twenty minutes of gentle insistence mixed with a healthy dose of guilt-tripping, Evelyn finally gave in. She changed into a simple navy dress that flattered her figure without trying too hard, brushed out her dark hair until it fell in soft waves, and let Zara drag her out of the house and into the evening air.

The restaurant, La Bella Notte, was cozy and warmly lit with strings of soft golden lights and candles flickering on every table. The aroma of garlic, fresh herbs, and baking bread wrapped around them like a comforting embrace. They were seated at a quiet corner table. For the first half hour, Evelyn actually managed to relax a little. The pasta was rich and perfectly al dente, and Zara’s animated stories about her latest workplace drama coaxed a few genuine smiles from her.

“You see?” Zara said triumphantly, pointing her fork. “This is exactly what you needed. A little normalcy away from the constant pressure.”

Evelyn nodded, twirling another forkful of pasta. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just… every time I close my eyes, I see those bank letters and the exhaustion on my dad’s face.”

Before Zara could offer more reassurance, Evelyn excused herself to use the restroom. As she weaved through the crowded tables, her mind still half-lost in her family’s troubles, she didn’t notice the tall figure stepping out from a private booth.

She collided lightly with a hard, unyielding chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—” she began, stepping back quickly.

Her words died instantly in her throat.

Damien Blackwood stood directly in front of her.

The same cold, distant man from the gala. Tall and imposing in another perfectly tailored black suit, his sharp gray eyes locked onto her face with instant recognition. He remembered her—the girl who had broken the champagne glass.

Evelyn’s heart stuttered violently. She hadn’t expected to see him again. Certainly not here in this modest little restaurant.

For a long second, Damien’s gaze remained fixed on her—cold, detached, and utterly unreadable. He took in the simple navy dress, the nervous way she clutched her small purse, the faint tension in her shoulders. He remembered the name from the file: Evelyn Hayes.

But he said nothing.

No greeting. No acknowledgment. No attempt at conversation.

His expression stayed icy and distant, as though she were merely another minor obstacle in his path. After that brief, piercing look, he gave the slightest, almost imperceptible nod and continued walking toward the exit without another word.

Evelyn stood frozen in place, her pulse racing wildly. The entire encounter had lasted less than ten seconds, yet it left her profoundly shaken.

She returned to the table on unsteady legs, her appetite completely gone.

Zara raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Evelyn lied, sliding back into her seat. “I just… bumped into someone.”

But she couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her mind. Those cold gray eyes had noticed her again. Recognized her. Yet he had walked away as if she were completely invisible.

Across the city, in the back of his sleek black town car gliding through Manhattan traffic, Damien Blackwood leaned back against the leather seat, his expression unchanged. The brief encounter at the restaurant had already faded from his thoughts.

Evelyn Hayes was nothing more than a minor coincidence.

Twice now.

Nothing worth his valuable attention.

He turned his gaze to the glowing Manhattan skyline outside the tinted window, already mentally preparing for the multi-million dollar deal awaiting him in the morning.