Chapter 72
Evangeline had just stepped through her front door when her phone rang.
Glenn had dropped her off after driving her home. The contract was signed, and she was scheduled to start work the next day. The UME office address was set–thankfully, it wasn’t far from her place.
Glenn was still staying at a hotel; he hadn’t had time to find an apartment yet. She’d wanted to help him look, but he wouldn’t let her, worried her injured foot hadn’t fully healed.
So, Evangeline returned home by herself.
The moment she stepped inside, something felt off.
Ever since that break–in at the Fawkes house, she’d been left with a lingering sense of unease. Living alone now, she’d adopted a small ritual for her own peace of mind: every time she left, she’d arrange the welcome mat just so, angling it in a specific way only she would notice.
But now, the mat was askew–clearly, someone had moved it.
She didn’t dare go further in. Instead, she pulled the door shut and called building management, asking to see the security footage.
The response was blunt and mocking. “Seriously, lady, you live in this place–what could anyone possibly want from you?”
“People who rent here barely have two nickels to rub together. If a thief did break in, he’d probably cry from pity and slip a twenty under your pillow.”
“Relax, nothing’s going to happen.”
Evangeline was irritated, but she couldn’t deny there was some truth to it.
This building was notorious for being old and shabby; the residents were mostly penny–pinching retirees or people down on their luck. Anyone with real means wouldn’t be caught dead living here.
Still, she couldn’t shake the anxiety.
She refused to gamble with her own safety.
When management flatly refused her request for the security footage, she threatened to call the police.
The manager huffed and insisted there was no way anyone had broken in, but at
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Chapter 72
the mention of the police, he caved and sent her the footage from the time she’d
been out.
She watched it carefully. There was no sign of anyone entering her apartment.
Maybe she really was overthinking things. Or maybe someone had tampered with the cameras.
If it was just her nerves, she could relax. But if someone had the skills to mess with surveillance, there was nothing she could do to protect herself.
Either way, she got nowhere–just a few more snide remarks from the building manager, and then she went back inside.
No sooner had she set her bag down than her phone rang again–this time, it was Soren.
His voice came through, low and tinged with a kind of sardonic amusement. “So, you finally decided to pick up.”
Evangeline blinked, thrown off. Shouldn’t she be the one saying that? He’d been impossible to reach just a little while ago.
She stayed silent. Soren spoke again. “Come back to the house tonight. We need to talk.”
He’d planned to let her stew in her own game of hard–to–get, to ignore her until she came around. But in the end, he changed his mind.
Yes, she’d made mistakes. But he knew it was Poppy’s return that had her on edge, feeling unsafe.
He remembered that Evangeline hadn’t worked in ages, while Poppy, with her prestigious degree and glittering resume, had outshone people even at Fawkes Enterprises.
It was only natural for Evangeline to feel insecure.
He ought to be more understanding.
But Evangeline couldn’t make sense of his call. Hadn’t he told Macy she wasn’t allowed anywhere near the house? And now he wanted her to come back?
It was almost laughable. For a moment, she wondered if Soren saw her as a person at all, or just a well–trained dog–petting her head when he was pleased, kicking her away when he wasn’t.
She exhaled sharply. “No need. If you have something to say, just say it now.”
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Not that she expected there was much left to say.
Soren could hear the edge in her voice. He frowned, but held his temper, his tone clipped and businesslike. “There’s an opening for a secretary on my team. I’ve already spoken to Human Resources. You can start tomorrow.”
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