Always make you mine

Episode Five

Evelyn barely tasted the rest of her pasta. The rich, savory flavors turned dull and lifeless on her tongue as her mind relentlessly replayed those few tense seconds in the narrow walkway between tables. Damien Blackwood’s cold gray eyes locking onto hers. The brief flicker of recognition. The complete absence of warmth or interest before he simply continued on his way.

It was the exact same detached look he had given her at the gala.

Zara leaned forward across the table, studying her friend’s face with concern. “Okay, seriously. You went to the restroom and came back looking like you’d seen a ghost. What really happened?”

Evelyn hesitated, twisting her napkin tightly in her lap. “I… bumped into someone. Literally.”

“Someone hot?” Zara teased lightly, trying to lift the mood.

Evelyn let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not exactly. It was him. The man from the gala—Damien Blackwood.”

Zara’s eyes widened dramatically. “No way. The ruthless billionaire everyone calls the Ice King? Did he say anything to you?”

“No.” Evelyn shook her head slowly. “He just looked at me for a second. I think he recognized me. Then he gave this tiny nod and kept walking like I didn’t exist.”

Zara whistled softly. “That sounds exactly like the stories people tell about him. Ice cold. He doesn’t waste a single second on anyone who isn’t useful to his empire.”

Evelyn stared down at her half-eaten plate. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why it’s bothering me so much. He’s just some powerful stranger I’ve run into twice by chance. But seeing him again tonight… it felt like the universe is trying to tell me something.”

“Or maybe it’s just a weird coincidence in a city of eight million people,” Zara said gently, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “Forget about him. You have more than enough on your plate with your dad’s company. Twenty-eight days is still time. We’ll figure something out together—I promise.”

But the reassurance felt hollow against the growing dread in Evelyn’s chest. As they paid the bill and left the restaurant, stepping into the cool night air, she couldn’t stop thinking about those piercing gray eyes. Twice now their paths had crossed. Twice he had noticed her—and twice he had dismissed her without a second thought.

The walk back to the car was unusually quiet. Zara kept the conversation flowing, chatting about her work and an upcoming art exhibition in the city, but Evelyn could only manage short, distracted replies. Her mind was already back home, silently counting down the days until the bank’s next aggressive move.

When she finally returned to the house, the living room lights were still on. Her parents sat together on the worn couch, both looking utterly drained.

“How was dinner?” her mother asked, forcing a cheerful tone that didn’t quite mask her worry.

“It was nice,” Evelyn lied softly. “Zara forced me to eat something good for once.”

Her father offered a tired smile. “Good. You needed that break.”

The conversation quickly turned serious again. Another supplier had sent a strongly worded email demanding immediate payment or they would halt all future deliveries. One of their key ongoing projects now risked serious delays if materials didn’t arrive soon. The investor meetings scheduled for tomorrow had suddenly become their only real lifeline.

Evelyn listened in heavy silence, the weight of the shrinking timeline pressing harder on her chest with every word. She wanted so badly to help. She needed to help. But she felt completely powerless—trapped between her dreams and her family’s crumbling reality.

Later that night, alone in her room, she opened her laptop once more. More job applications. More silent prayers sent into the digital unknown. When the screen full of rejections became too much, she closed the laptop with a defeated sigh and lay down, staring up at the ceiling cracks that seemed to mirror the fractures in her family’s life.

Damien Blackwood’s indifferent face flashed through her mind again.

Cold. Distant. Untouchable.

A man who could probably solve her family’s financial problems with a single phone call—yet would never even consider it.

She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin against the growing chill.

It didn’t matter.

He had noticed her twice now and walked away both times without hesitation.

She was nothing to him.

And he was nothing to her.

That’s what she kept telling herself, over and over, until sleep finally claimed her.