“Well, this has been enlightening.”
She watched him rise. Composed. Unmoved. “It always is.”
“Gideon may not want this family. But he understands it. And that’s what makes him dangerous.”
Alex stilled mid-step. “Dangerous?”
Evelyn swirled her tea with slow elegance, watching the spiral form.
“He thinks he can separate himself from us. That blood is something you can outrun with enough distance or disdain.”
She finally looked up. Cold. Calculating. Like a knife behind fine china.
“But blood always leaves a trail.”
He said nothing.
“And while you wrestle with your… domestic failure,” she continued, “Gideon’s been making decisions. Quiet ones. Strategic ones. And they concern me.”
Alex lifted his brow, amused. “What decisions?”
She set her teacup down. The porcelain kissed the table with a soft, deliberate sound.
“Miss Rivers.”
His expression flickered with amusement, mostly.
“The bartender?”
He took another sip of bourbon. No concern. No worry. Just mild interest.
“That’s cute.”
Evelyn said nothing. She didn’t have to. She simply watched him, letting silence do the work.
He shook his head—dismissive, certain she was overreacting. “So what’s the play?”
Her smile was serene. Her gaze? Surgical.
“One problem at a time, darling. For now, worry about yours.”
He gave a shallow nod: not agreement, but acknowledgment. He didn’t see the threat.
Not yet.
Arden Rivers was a passing novelty. A flicker of interest.
That was how Alex saw it.
But Evelyn? She saw more.
As Alex moved toward the door, she reached for her phone without hesitation. Dialed.
The door swung shut with a muted finality, but the warning stayed.
One ring.
“Colton,” she said.
