The heavy rain battered the windows of the Carter mansion, a perfect symphony for the cold calculation in Evelyn's eyes. She spent the afternoon monitoring the "Alpha Investor" group chat, where the digital shadows of the city's elite gathered.
[White Knight]:Next week is up in the air. If I have time, I'll show.
Evelyn watched the notification, her lips curling. Lucien—the "White Knight"—was as arrogant in the digital world as he was in a lab coat.
[Coach Yu]:@Mrs. Li, still recovering?
[Mrs. Li (Evelyn)]:Yes. My body isn't ready for a social circus yet. You guys enjoy. Dinner is on me—I'll drop a massive red envelope in the chat when the bill comes.
She figured she was likely the wealthiest person in this circle of six. If she couldn't show her face, she could at least buy their loyalty with cold, hard cash.
[Zzhou]:@Mrs. Li, out of curiosity, how old are you?
Evelyn smirked at the screen. [Mrs. Li]:My grandson is already in preschool.
A string of shocked emojis flooded the screen. [White Knight]:She's lying. Don't be idiots. If she doesn't want to tell the truth, stop asking. Intuition says she's thirty-five, tops.
Evelyn let out a dry, hollow laugh. Thirty-five? He wasn't nearly as smart as he thought he was. She let the chat fade into the background. She had a real-world transaction to handle: the penthouse.
The next day, the rain had cleared, leaving the city smelling of wet pavement and opportunity. Nora accompanied Evelyn to the real estate office, but the owner was an hour late.
"He's a surgeon," the agent explained, looking apologetic. "An emergency at the hospital."
"Another doctor," Evelyn muttered. It felt like she was tripping over them lately. Her sister's fiancé was a doctor; the arrogant jerk in her group chat claimed to be one; and now the owner of the apartment was one too. "I'm starting to think the city is infested with them, Nora. Remember that man I shouted at? Lucien Hale? I'm convinced he's a quack."
Nora looked horrified. "Evelyn, stop! Dr. Hale is a genius. He funds half the medical research in this city. He's a god in the operating room."
"He's a capitalist in a white coat, Nora. He invests in research so he can monopolize the patents. It's a business model, not a calling."
A roar of an engine interrupted them. A sleek, all-black Koenigsegg pulled up—a five-million-dollar masterpiece of carbon fiber and ego. The agent rushed out to greet the driver and led him into the conference room. When Evelyn and Nora walked in, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Lucien Hale sat there, looking like a high-powered predator in a bespoke suit. He looked up, and his cold indifference shattered into a dark, piercing scowl.
"You?" he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register.
"Hale?" Evelyn countered, her eyes narrowing.
"The apartment isn't for sale," Lucien stood up immediately, pushing his chair back with a harsh screech. "I'm leaving."
"Wait!" Evelyn blocked the door before he could take three steps. "I've already paid the deposit. We have a legally binding contract."
"I'll refund it. Double."
"Not good enough. You're in breach of contract. I want the house, not your pity money."
Lucien looked down at her, his height designed to crush her resolve. "Are you that desperate for a payday, Ms. Carter? Trying to hustle me?"
"I'm buying a thirty-five-million-dollar penthouse. Do I look like I'm 'desperate' for a refund?"
The agent was sweating profusely. "Dr. Hale... please. This house has been sitting for a year. This is a perfect deal..."
"I don't care about the deal," Lucien snapped. "I'm not selling to her."
Evelyn leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "So, not only is Dr. Hale a mediocre surgeon, but he's also a coward. A petty, thin-skinned little man who can't handle a woman who doesn't bow to him."
"Evelyn, stop!" Nora whispered frantically.
Lucien turned back, his face a mask of simmering fury. "Why do you want this apartment so badly?"
"I like it," Evelyn said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. She gave him a cold, elegant smile. "Your personality is trash, Lucien, but your taste in real estate is impeccable."
Lucien let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Should I thank you for the compliment?"
"No need. I'm always fair. Keep your apartment, Doctor. Let the rats have it. They'll be better company for you anyway." Evelyn stood up to leave, her defiance sharp enough to draw blood.
"Thirty-five million," Lucien's voice cut through the air as she reached for the handle. "I'll include the two underground parking spots. Take it or leave it."
Evelyn froze. She turned back slowly. "Did your brain short-circuit?"
Lucien leaned back, a mocking curve on his lips. "I like your friend. She has manners. I'm doing her a favor, not you."
Evelyn calculated instantly. 34.5 million including the premium spots. It was a steal. "34 million," Evelyn countered. "And I pay the full amount in cash on the day the deed is transferred. No loans. No waiting."
Lucien's eyes sharpened to lethal points. "Cash? All of it?"
"Every cent."
"You're either a brilliant liar or the most dangerous woman in this city," Lucien murmured, his gaze traveling over her as if seeing her for the first time. "Where does a 'disowned' daughter get thirty-four million in cash?"
"That," Evelyn said, leaning over the table until she could see the gold flecks in his eyes, "is none of your business. Do we have a deal, Doctor? Or are you still afraid of me?"
Lucien didn't blink. He reached for the pen. "Sign the papers before I change my mind."