The first thing Evelyn Hart noticed was not the water running down the front of her white shirt.

"Adrian, my boy!" Victor boomed, clapping a heavy, overly familiar hand onto Adrian’s shoulder. "Magnificent estate you've got here. Reminds me of the old days when your father ran things with an iron fist—before the stroke slowed him down, God rest his soul."

Adrian didn't flinch. He simply shifted his shoulder slightly, forcing Sterling to drop his hand. "My father built a foundation, Victor. I am simply modernizing it. Care for some champagne?"

"Always," Sterling laughed, turning his heavy, bloodshot eyes toward Evelyn. He paused, his gaze lingering appraisingly on her face, her collarbone, and the emerald silk of her dress. A sleazy, knowing smirk crept onto his lips. "Well, well. Adrian, I must say, your father never hired talent quite like this. Where did you dig her up? A high-end gallery in River North?"

The implication was dripping with condescension and vulgarity.

Before Adrian could speak—before the cold fury in his eyes could translate into a lethal command—Evelyn stepped forward, her expression an absolute mask of serene, untouchable grace.

"I am Evelyn Hart, Mr. Sterling," she said, her voice crystal clear and perfectly leveled. "I manage special compliance projects for Mr. Vale. And your glass is empty."

Sterling blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by her polished composure. He let out a loud, grating laugh. "Compliance projects, eh? That’s a fancy word for a pretty face holding a clipboard. Tell me, sweetheart, does compliance involve pouring drinks, or do you handle the real dirty work in the back offices too?"

Adrian’s jaw tightened. The air around him dropped ten degrees. The muscle in his cheek flicked—a surefire sign that he was one second away from having Sterling thrown off the balcony.

Evelyn caught Adrian’s eye and gave him a microscopic, imperceptible shake of her head. Handle it, her eyes said.

She turned back to Sterling, offering a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Compliance involves making sure that people who try to manipulate contracts, inflate construction budgets, and embezzle from Vale Real Estate accounts find themselves looking for a new career before the fiscal quarter ends."

Sterling’s laughter died instantly. The color drained from his jowled face, leaving him pale and sweating under the warm chandelier light.

"What... what are you talking about?" Sterling stammered, his eyes darting nervously toward Adrian.

"Just a preliminary audit observation, Mr. Sterling," Evelyn said smoothly, stepping past him to place a fresh glass of champagne on a nearby silver tray. "Nothing for an honest man to worry about."

Sterling swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he grabbed a glass from a passing tray. He shot Evelyn a look of pure, unadulterated venom before retreating toward the far corner of the room where Marcus Vance, the head of legal operations, was waiting.

Adrian watched Sterling retreat, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips. He turned his head toward Evelyn, leaning in close so his lips brushed her ear.

"You just kicked a hornet's nest," Adrian whispered, his breath warm against her skin, sending a shiver racing down her spine. "They’re going to try to destroy you by midnight."

"Let them try," Evelyn replied, her voice steady. "I have a very good lawyer."

"You have me," Adrian corrected softly.

Dinner was served ten minutes later. As the guests took their seats, Evelyn moved fluidly around the table, refilling wine glasses, clearing plates, and listening with razor-sharp focus.

Seated three chairs down from Adrian, Victor Sterling leaned across the table toward Marcus Vance, whispering frantically under the cover of orchestral background music.

Evelyn, gliding silently behind Sterling’s chair with a bottle of vintage Bordeaux, caught every single word.

"She knows," Sterling hissed, his voice trembling with panic. "That little bitch knows about the harbor development accounts. If she looks at the ledger for the Marina project, we're all finished. Adrian will put us in the ground."

Marcus Vance adjusted his glasses, his face turning grim. "Calm down, Victor. She’s just a hired gun—probably an intern Adrian picked up off the street. We deal with her quietly. Tonight, after the gala, we plant the stolen offshore transfer files in her private locker on the second floor. When Adrian finds them tomorrow morning, he’ll think she was an industrial spy working for our rivals."

Evelyn’s hand holding the wine bottle didn't shake. Not a single drop spilled.