Chapter 207
The room fell silent, every gaze turning toward Old Mrs. Fawkes with genuine respect.
Despite the Fawkes family’s relatively recent arrival in Serenity City, they had managed to rise to the very top in record time. While much of their success was credited to Clyde’s and Soren’s formidable talents, it was Old Mrs. Fawkes who had laid the solid foundation that kept the family’s power unshakable.
Even at seventy, she still held the largest share of the Fawkes fortune, and no one dared to question her authority.
Tonight, though, everyone understood-without needing an official announcement that while they were here to celebrate Old Mrs. Fawkes’s birthday, there was another agenda: she would be handing over her shares.
All eyes shifted to Soren, their expressions a complicated mix of apprehension, dread, anxiety, and, for some, eager flattery.
Soren hadn’t even fully unleashed his potential, yet his influence in Serenity City was already frightening. Once the transfer was complete, no one even wanted to imagine what he’d be capable of. Crossing him now would be suicidal.
As that thought settled over the crowd, several people couldn’t help but glance at Evangeline, who, just moments ago, had been plotting to oppose Soren. Some even felt a twinge of pity for her.
In a show of loyalty, someone discreetly messaged Soren about Evangeline’s attempt to slip out her business card. They even sent him a photo of the card, now torn in pieces, vowing never to work with UME.
Soren took one look at the shredded card, Evangeline’s name barely visible above UME’s logo, and gave a short, derisive laugh.
A moth trying to shake the tree.
UME might have potential, but as soon as Fawkes Enterprises entered the fray, they wouldn’t last long.
He dismissed the message with a glance, uninterested. Just as he was about to put his phone away, it buzzed again.
Soren opened the app that had pinged-a social platform popular in their circles. This time, it was an alert about a betting thread.
Somebody had started a wager a month ago about his marriage-specifically, whether he’d stay with his wife. These kinds of bizarre bets weren’t unusual, and he usually ignored them, but curiosity got the better of him. When he clicked in, he saw that plenty of people had joined in. The vast majority had bet on “divorce p>
The ratio was nine to one, divorce to staying together—a landslide.
He hadn’t expected so many people to be hoping for his marriage to end.
After thinking it over, Soren had placed a hefty sum on “stay together.” He didn’t love Evangeline, but after five years, he’d gotten used to her. Divorce just wasn’t on the table for him-not yet.
Most people saw the bet as just a bit of fun and only wagered small amounts, a few thousand at most. But perhaps because his own stake was so large, after he placed his bet, the gap narrowed; soon the odds steadied at about three to one.
But now, for some reason, the gap had widened drastically again.
Twelve to one.
Twelve million dollars on divorce.
One million on staying together.
Seeing that, Soren felt an unexpected tightness in his chest.
Without thinking, he tossed another ten million onto “stay together p>
“Holy hell, is this guy nuts?” Liam nearly spit out his drink when he saw the sudden jump—ten million dollars—on the “stay together” side of the pool.
Everything Soren had done tonight, every sign, pointed to him choosing Poppy. Who in their right mind would bet on him not getting divorced? Must be a charity
case.
Did they really think the Fawkes family would keep the divorce under wraps?
Fat chance.
With their own little push, the results would be out soon enough.
Thinking about what was about to unfold later that evening, Liam quietly transferred another hundred thousand into the “divorce” pot from his own private stash.
Up on the stage, Old Mrs. Fawkes offered her thanks to everyone, her words gracious and warm. Then her gaze fell on Evangeline, her eyes soft with affection but shadowed by sorrow and reluctance.
Before coming tonight, the city registrar had already told her about Evangeline’s impending divorce from her grandson. She’d known it was coming, but still, hearing the news had stung.
From across the room, Evangeline met Old Mrs. Fawkes’s gaze.
In that single look, she understood everything.
Today was Old Mrs. Fawkes’s birthday, and Evangeline didn’t want to ruin it with bad news. She’d hoped to keep the divorce a secret, planning to announce it tomorrow instead. But now, it was clear the secret hadn’t held.
On second thought, with their marriage under such scrutiny, it was only natural that as soon as the papers were signed, word would reach Old Mrs. Fawkes.
Perhaps it was for the best-no more delaying the inevitable.
After a minute’s silence, Evangeline drew a steady breath and started walking toward Old Mrs. Fawkes.
But she’d barely taken two steps when the giant screen behind the stage flickered, and a new video began to play.
It was the footage-captured just moments ago of her kissing Finn in the lobby downstairs.