Chapter 833

Evelyn Carter clutched her phone, her knuckles turning white. Suppressing the surge of worry, she asked softly, "Vivian said you're staying at a Hamilton Group hotel? It's safer there. Let me know if you need anything."

Alexander Hamilton sat nearby, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. Frost gathered in his eyes. Vincent Croix had dared to target someone under his protection—this debt would be settled sooner or later.

"I'm fine, don't worry." Bianca Langley's voice suddenly grew distant, her words slurring slightly at the edges.

The sound of a glass bottle toppling over echoed through the phone.

Evelyn's breath hitched. She could almost see Bianca curled up on the hotel carpet, empty liquor bottles scattered around her.

"How much have you had?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself.

"Not much." Bianca chuckled faintly, the rustling of fabric suggesting she'd shifted into an even more defeated posture. "I used to drink only when happy. Now? The more I drink, the more bitter it gets."

Evelyn remembered the redness around Bianca's eyes the last time she'd seen her smoking. Back then, she'd still been holding on for Baby Chloe's sake. Now, even that last pillar had collapsed.

"Did Vincent—"

"This time, it wasn't him." Bianca scoffed. "It was those old foxes at Langley Group, urging me to reconcile with Vincent."

The sound of nails scraping against a bottle label came through the line.

"They said my father's legacy needs restructuring, and they need the 'Langley heiress' to make an appearance." Every word dripped with sarcasm. "How laughable. When they betrayed us, no one cared that I bore the Langley name."

Evelyn glanced at the toddler playing by the floor-to-ceiling window. Sunlight gilded the little girl like an angel.

"Baby Chloe took her first steps. Would you like to see her?"

The other end of the line went deathly silent.

"No." Bianca's voice cracked. "Knowing she's happy is enough."

The call ended abruptly. Alexander took Evelyn's icy hand. "Vincent is forcing her out of hiding."

Two days later, Vincent's call came as expected.

"My daughter is with you." His voice slithered like a venomous snake.

Alexander twirled a pen, its tip bleeding ink onto a document. "Planning a career change into screenwriting, Mr. Croix?"

"Alexander Hamilton!" Vincent shed all pretense. "When we meet in court, we'll see if you're still smiling."

The pen snapped in half. Alexander studied the ink staining his fingers and smiled faintly. "Looking forward to it."

Outside the window, storm clouds gathered. The downpour was coming.