“Zane, you’re finally here,” Marco beamed, stepping forward eagerly, hand outstretched. “My engagement party wouldn’t be complete without you.”
But the young man—Zane Mitchell—ignored his hand completely. He didn’t even glance at Marco. Instead, his eyes locked directly onto Evelyn.
“You’re Evelyn Carter?” he asked.
She blinked, startled, before nodding.
Zane’s expression softened into a faint smile. “He hid you well. Otherwise, we’d have crossed paths much earlier.”
Marco assumed Zane meant him and frowned in confusion. But he quickly masked it and gestured grandly to the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Zane Mitchell, heir of the Mitchell family of New York—the Crown Prince of the capital itself. The Mitchells are the strongest backers of my Ramirez family here in Charleston!”
“I’ve got a phone. Want me to call the cops for you?”
The group of swaggering lackeys burst into loud, mocking laughter.
I lowered my head, scrolling lazily through my phone, too disinterested to respond further.
But one thing was clear—Evelyn Carter really was trying to protect me.
The engagement ceremony wrapped up soon after.
Then came the real purpose of the event: food, drinks, and networking.