Chapter 10 - The Sovereign
The sun was setting over the Manhattan skyline as Evelyn stood on the private terrace of her new home—a penthouse duplex overlooking Central Park, three blocks from where her journey had begun.
The city below was a glowing sea of silver, amber, and gold.
Beside her, sitting on a small marble table, sat a cup of hot black tea and a freshly printed copy of The New York Times.
On the front page of the Business Section was a long feature article: Evelyn Carter: The Woman Who Rebuilt Luxury in Her Own Image.
Her phone buzzed softly on the table.
She picked it up. It was a message from Marcus Vance:
Mrs. Carter, the international patent registry in Geneva has officially confirmed the granting of your new eco-textile patents in forty-two countries. The global market valuation of Aveline House has crossed one billion dollars.
Evelyn smiled, setting the phone down without replying.
She picked up her teacup, leaning against the glass balustrade of the terrace. The cool autumn wind brushed against her face, carrying the crisp scent of falling leaves from the park below.
She thought of Graham, sitting in a cold cell in Pennsylvania, still wondering how his quiet wife had managed to outsmart him.
She thought of Blair, staring at four walls, realizing too late that beauty without substance is just a temporary dress.
And then she looked down at her hands— hands that knew how to cut, how to sew, how to build, and how to govern an empire without ever losing their grace.
She was no longer Evelyn Prescott. She was no longer a shadow in someone else's story.
She was Evelyn Carter.
May you like
The sovereign of Aveline House.
And her story was just beginning.
