Chapter 289

The golden chandeliers of the ballroom cast shimmering reflections across Olivia Sinclair's champagne flute as she stood beside Alistair Kensington. Though she'd never spoken of her painful past to the elderly gentleman, Donovan Kensington had discreetly uncovered every detail.

Olivia had been orphaned before her tenth birthday. During Henry Winslow's lifetime, she'd known comfort and security. But after his passing, the mute girl had suffered countless indignities without the ability to voice her pain.

Alistair knew every injustice Liam Blackwood and Evelyn Hartley had inflicted upon Olivia. He'd tolerated their existence only because they weren't worth his attention. But tonight, watching Evelyn's approach, he silently vowed that any further provocation would meet with swift retribution.

His steel-gray eyes hardened like tempered blades.

Evelyn appeared then, clinging to the arm of a biracial gentleman whose sharp cheekbones gave him an aristocratic air despite his average looks. Her crimson lips stretched in a smile too wide to be genuine.

"Ms. Sinclair," Evelyn purred, raising her glass in mock salute. "What an unexpected pleasure."

Olivia's gaze flickered over Evelyn with glacial indifference before turning away.

The dismissal made Evelyn's smile twitch. Nearby, someone muffled a laugh into their cocktail.

Alistair adjusted his cufflinks with deliberate slowness. "Miss Hartley, unless you have business with my granddaughter, I suggest you find more suitable company." His voice carried the quiet authority of a man accustomed to obedience.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed wine-dark, but she held her ground. With theatrical grace, she gestured to her companion. "Lord Kensington," she simpered, pitching her voice to carry, "surely you remember our connection? At your birthday gala, you told Donovan I made quite the impression. I stood at your right hand all evening."

Murmurs rippled through nearby guests as memories surfaced. Indeed, Evelyn had basked in reflected glory that night, her proximity to Alistair granting her temporary status.

Across the room, Seraphina Kensington's fingers tightened around her clutch. "That scheming little—"

"Patience, Miss Kensington," Celeste Dumont murmured, restraining her employer. "Let's see how the mute girl handles this."

Seraphina's lips curled. "I detest Olivia, but Evelyn's insufferable. This should be entertaining."

Alistair's brow furrowed as he searched his memory. The birthday celebration had been clouded by personal turmoil, leaving only vague impressions of Evelyn - and an inexplicable revulsion he couldn't quite place.

To Evelyn, his hesitation read as confirmation. Her smirk widened victoriously.

The biracial gentleman cleared his throat, drawing attention. "Dominic Laurent," he introduced himself with a slight bow. "Evelyn's spoken so much about your family's... unique dynamics."

Olivia's fingers twitched against her skirt. Alistair's posture grew rigid, recognizing the veiled insult. The air between the four crackled with unspoken challenges.

Evelyn's eyes glittered with malicious triumph as she took a deliberate sip of champagne, savoring the tension she'd created. Around them, party guests leaned closer, sensing the brewing storm between the Kensington heir and the social climber who dared challenge her.