The Almighty Tycoon Reclaims His Queen

The blue light from the phone screen illuminated Evelyn's pale face in the dark apartment.

The name Julian Hawthorne burned into her retinas.

Her knees gave out. She slid down the cold wooden door until she hit the floor. The phone slipped from her numb fingers and landed on the cheap rug with a soft thud.

Thunder rattled the thin windows of her apartment. Evelyn pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. Her thin shoulders shook violently as a wave of absolute helplessness crashed over her.

The next morning, harsh sunlight sliced through the broken blinds and hit Evelyn's face.

She groaned and pushed herself up from the floor. Her head pounded with a vicious migraine. She walked into the tiny bathroom and gripped the edges of the sink. She stared at her swollen, red eyes in the mirror. She slapped her own cheeks hard, forcing the blood back into her skin.

Her phone started ringing on the floor.

She picked it up. It was Clara Mercer, her best friend and assistant.

Evelyn answered. Clara's panicked whisper immediately filled her ear.

"Eve! Did you read the email? That ruthless tyrant from Hawthorne Group actually bought our garbage company!"

Evelyn closed her eyes. Her throat felt like sandpaper. "I saw it, Clara. He isn't just a tyrant. He is..." She swallowed the words my ex-boyfriend.

Clara kept talking, her voice frantic. "HR is losing their minds. They are making everyone wear full corporate formal. He is coming in an hour. Do not be late!"

Evelyn hung up the phone. She looked at her closet full of cheap, worn-out blazers.

She made a decision. She was not going to stand in a cubicle and let Julian humiliate her in front of her coworkers. She needed to pay off that car repair debt today. She needed to cut the chain Julian had wrapped around her neck.

The only way to do that was to get the money from the owner of the wrecked car. Preston.

Evelyn pulled out her sharpest black blazer. It was a piece of armor to hide how badly she was shaking inside. She applied a dark, aggressive shade of red lipstick.

She didn't go to the office. She ordered an Uber and headed straight to the Upper East Side.

The car pulled up to The Obsidian Club, a highly exclusive private lounge. Evelyn paid the driver and walked in her heels toward the heavy gold-trimmed revolving doors.

A massive security guard stepped in front of her, holding up a thick hand.

"Sorry, ma'am. Members only. I need to see your black card."

Evelyn straightened her spine. She looked the guard dead in the eye with cold authority. "I am Preston Vance's fiancée. He is inside."

The guard checked an iPad. His posture immediately relaxed into submission. He stepped aside. "Mr. Vance is in VVIP Room 3. Go right in, ma'am."

Evelyn walked down the long corridor. The floor was covered in thick Persian rugs. The heavy bass from the club's sound system vibrated in the soles of her feet. The air smelled like expensive vodka and heavy perfume.

As she got closer to Room 3, her heart started to beat faster. A sick feeling settled in her stomach. Preston had told her he had a mandatory family trust meeting this morning.

She stopped outside the heavy velvet door. It was cracked open just an inch. Dim purple light spilled out into the hallway, along with the sound of women giggling and men cheering.

Evelyn held her breath. She leaned forward and looked through the crack.

Her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

Preston was slouched back on a massive leather sofa. His expensive shirt was unbuttoned to his stomach. He held a crystal glass of champagne, a sloppy, drunk smile on his face.

Straddling his lap was Kenzie Locke. She was a well-known socialite who spent her life in VIP sections.

Kenzie laughed loudly and popped a peeled grape into Preston's mouth. Their bodies were pressed tightly together. Three other rich men in the room whistled and clapped.

A cold chill shot from Evelyn's feet straight to the top of her head.

It wasn't just anger at the betrayal. It was a deep, sickening wave of self-pity. She had tolerated this pathetic excuse for a man just to keep her family afloat.

She dug her nails into her palms. The sharp pain cleared the fog in her brain. She wasn't here to cry over a cheating fiancé. She was here for the money.

Evelyn lifted her right foot. She kicked the heavy velvet door with all her strength.

The door flew open and slammed against the interior wall with a massive crash. The sound echoed over the heavy bass of the music.

The laughter inside the room died instantly. Every head snapped toward the doorway.

Evelyn stood there, her black blazer sharp, her red lips set in a cold, hard line.

Preston jumped so hard he spilled his champagne all over his pants. He shoved Kenzie off his lap. His face went pale.

"Eve... Evelyn? What are you doing here?"