CHAPTER 150: I SENT YOU A MESSAGE

Just as the doors were about to close, a hand shot through the gap, preventing them from shutting. The sudden motion startled Winn, making him stumble slightly.

And when Winn saw the face that belonged to the hand, his stomach dropped. The elevator doors slid fully open, and there he was—Evans Everest. Sharp suit, smug grin, and that unbearable air of self-satisfaction that always seemed to cling to him. Winn didn’t even need to think twice; the deal was as good as gone.

If Evans was here, it meant the investors had already lost faith and called him in. His rival. His nemesis.

"Hey guys!" Evans chirped. "Going up?"

"Yes," Joey answered.

"Hey, Joey," Evans continued, stepping into the elevator as if he owned the place.

"Uh... I sent you a message—I don’t know if you received it. I heard about your wife’s demise. I’m so sorry. I would’ve been at the funeral, but, you know...We’re kind of business rivals. Didn’t want to intrude. Would’ve been awkward, right? And I didn’t think my presence would be appreciated."

"It’s fine," Joey said finally. "I understand."

Winn ignored Evans completely, fixing his eyes on the glowing numbers above the elevator door, willing them to move faster. His patience was thin.

"So..." Evans drawled, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. "Winn... that sweet girl finally got some sense and left you at the altar, huh?"

The words hit Winn like a punch before he even threw one. It wasn’t just what Evans said—it was the way he said it. That smug, playful tone. That cruel glint in his eye that said I know exactly where to hit you. The sentence was barely finished when Winn snapped.

He lunged forward, grabbing Evans by the lapels of his overpriced jacket, and sent a sharp, brutal punch straight to his face. The impact echoed, a satisfying, meaty thud followed by a hiss of pain. Evans stumbled back, clutching his cheek.

"Winn!" Joey shouted, stepping between them. "For God’s sake—this isn’t the time or place!" He pushed Winn back, his arm braced against his chest.

Winn’s breathing was ragged, his chest heaving. "You don’t get to talk about her," he hissed.

Evans straightened his jacket, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and checking for blood.

"Oops. Sore subject? It should be." Evans said with a smirk that could have infuriated a saint.

"Evans, quit it!" Joey snapped. The elevator finally dinged open, the cheerful chime mocking the storm inside. They stepped out into the corridor. Joey moved instinctively into the middle, the reluctant referee between two alpha males circling for dominance.

"See you inside," Evans said, adjusting his tie and striding off.

"Winn, you have to keep your temper in check," Joey muttered, turning to his friend.

"I can’t stand him, Joey. I... I can’t." Winn ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting toward the direction Evans had gone.

"Don’t let him get under your skin, okay?" Joey said, lowering his tone, trying to diffuse the tension before it erupted again. He clapped Winn on the shoulder, grounding him. "When exactly is our appointment?"

"Ten," Winn muttered.

Joey checked his watch. "It’s thirty minutes till. Let’s just wait since he’s here already. Come on." He gestured toward the seating outside the hotel’s conference rooms. They passed a few guests and a server.

Joey sank into one of the cushioned seats, exhaling heavily. "Come on, Winn. Sit."

"I don’t think we should wait around, Joey." Winn stayed standing, pacing a few steps, the agitation vibrating off him. "There’s no use. They’re going to go with Evans, and I’d rather not be here to see him gloat when he comes back out. I might end up decking him again."

Joey looked up at him. "Come on, Winn. You’ve experienced loss before. You’ve been through worse than this. Don’t let him define your breaking point."

"I do not want to lose to him again, Joey. And if I am going to lose to him, I’d rather not see his face after that."

"Winn... come on," Joey sighed, rubbing his temples. He could already feel the tension coiling tighter between his shoulder blades.

"Fine," Winn muttered, flipping his jacket before sinking into the chair beside him. His jaw was still clenched, his pulse ticking visibly in his neck. He exhaled slowly, forcing calm he didn’t feel.

*****

"Mr. Everest! Welcome," Bernard exclaimed as he rose from behind the table in the opulent conference room.

Bernard extended his hand, and Evans gripped it firmly, his smile polished and warm. He shook hands with the other two investors, Simon and Willem, before sliding gracefully into his seat.

"I’m glad you called," Evans began, "but I’m also intrigued as to what this is about." He leaned back slightly, his posture casual.

Bernard folded his hands and exchanged a quick look with Simon before speaking. "As you know, we had chosen Mr. Kane’s designer mall project over yours. It was a close call, but we believed his proposal offered the highest yield in the long term. However..." He paused.

"With recent events, we plan on going with your idea instead. It’s a lucrative venture, and your numbers hold strong even in the current market."

Evans’s brow arched. Of course. Ivy’s wedding fiasco. The canceled event, the investors losing confidence in Winn. It was business as usual. His father would’ve leapt at this.

"Well," Evans said smoothly, "I’m honored and grateful, gentlemen. Everest Bevy of Condos has been a dream of my father’s—one I’ve spent years preparing to realize. But..."

Simon leaned forward, his sharp eyes narrowing. "But? You hounded us for this, Evans. Now you’re hesitating?"

Evans sighed. "I did pursue this deal aggressively," he admitted. "And I still believe in its potential. But I’ve reviewed Mr. Kane’s design again. The projections are, frankly, impressive. Beyond impressive. The long-term profit margin he’s proposing, paired with his company structure and market presence—it’s... genius."

He gave a rueful chuckle. "Not a word I use lightly."

The men exchanged surprised glances. Bernard frowned. "You’re recommending a competitor’s proposal?"