Soren tapped open his phone and saw a brief message from Evangeline. 

“I’m at the manor.” 

He frowned. “Didn’t we agree I’d pick you up?” 

Evangeline replied, “You’re late.” 

He glanced at the time. “Only by an hour.” 

Worried something might happen at the birthday celebration, he’d hired extra security and spent time making sure everything was in place. It had slowed him down. 

Today was his grandmother’s birthday, and he thought Evangeline would 

understand. 

Evangeline was waiting in the entry hall of the old manor when Soren’s message came through. She wasn’t surprised by his response. 

Just an hour. 

For Soren, an hour really was “just” an hour. When he was in a good mood, he’d show up two or three hours late to meet her; when he wasn’t, he’d leave her waiting all night. 

An hour was nothing. 

She used to think nothing of it, but this time, she simply didn’t feel like waiting 

anymore. 

When she didn’t reply, Soren sent a question mark. 

She answered calmly, “An hour is still time, and I have things to do with mine.” 

“No one will wait for you forever.” 

Soren laughed in disbelief when he read her message. 

He thought she was being dramatic–but her words had a certain bite to them. He’d slipped up before, but she’d never spoken to him like this. 

Clearly, UME’s launch event had given her some new backbone. 

They’d been married five years. He knew Evangeline’s capabilities–an ordinary college degree, no advanced studies, nothing to her name except being the 

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17:551 

Chapter 184 

Whitmore family’s heiress. Nothing special. The big robotics project–he doubted she’d really done it herself. Most likely, Glenn had arranged for her to get the credit. Knowing all this, he didn’t take her new attitude too seriously. He messaged back, “When are you going to explain signing on with UME?” 

Quite a few people in their circle were watching the silent war between Fawkes Enterprises and UME. By joining UME now, Evangeline was basically announcing their marriage was on the rocks–even if that wasn’t exactly true. 

He didn’t care what people thought. What bothered him was the sense that something between them had shifted. Her choice put him at a disadvantage. 

“We’ll talk when we see each other tonight,” Evangeline wrote. 

She sent the message just as Old Mrs. Fawkes entered the sitting room. Evangeline had planned to go straight to the hotel for the celebration, but her grandmother had asked her to come to the manor first. 

Old Mrs. Fawkes’s face lit up when she saw her. Even her wrinkles seemed to 

soften. 

“Evangeline, I saw your press conference on TV. You did wonderfully. I’m so proud of you,” she said warmly. 

Evangeline felt a little embarrassed. 

Though she’d stepped away from public life, Old Mrs. Fawkes was still, in truth, the real power behind Fawkes Enterprises. By working at UME, Evangeline was, in a way, going against her. 

Sensing her unease, Old Mrs. Fawkes squeezed her hand and smiled. “My time is nearly up. The world ahead belongs to your generation. Don’t hold back–do whatever you believe in.” 

Evangeline pressed her lips together, saying nothing. 

Her grandmother held her hand a little tighter. “It’s a shame. I’m getting old, and I won’t be around to see everything that unfolds.” 

Evangeline felt a pang in her chest. 

She quickly grabbed her grandmother’s hand, her other palm brushing the wooden banister nearby, and knocked on it three times for luck. 

“Grandma, don’t say things like that. Knock on wood–you’re going to live to a 

hundred.” 

17:55 

“Today’s your birthday. We’re only allowed good words and happy thoughts.” 

Evangeline wasn’t usually superstitious, but she sincerely wished this woman–who had always cared for her as if she were her own–could stay healthy and well. 

Old Mrs. Fawkes watched her, eyes shining with joy and a trace of sadness. 

“Evangeline, if you really want to make me happy, will you promise me something?” “No matter what I say tonight, just do as I ask. Please?”