THE MYSTERY BEHIND EVELINE'S KISS

In a hotel room in the heart of Velmore, Eveline trembled beneath John Vale as thick curtains sealed the room from the city outside, hiding the affair neither of them wanted to stop.

“Keep going, John… don’t stop…” Her breathing turned uneven as warmth spread slowly through her.

“Yes, babe,” John whispered against her ear, his voice rough with desire.

“Ahh…” Eveline groaned softly, her fingers digging into the wrinkled sheets as she fought to keep the louder moan from escaping her lips.

“God, Eve… you’re ruining me,” John whispered against her lips, his breath hitching before he kissed her again — deep, reckless, desperate. His hands moved over her slowly, as though trying to memorize every inch of a woman who belonged to another man. Lost in each other, they surrendered completely to the heat between them, leaving only tangled sheets and uneven breaths behind them.

When it was over, their sweat-slicked bodies stayed locked together, breathing still shallow and uneven. John smirked, his gaze cold yet adoring as he looked down at Eveline. “Look at yourself, Eve…” he whispered darkly. “You’re living proof that money is always more loyal than love.”

Eveline offered a faint, cryptic smile. Her eyes sharpened—not from the lingering afterglow, but from the ravenous ambition clawing at her mind. “And now,” she said, her fingers dancing on John's chest, “we can have it all.”

Eveline slowly slipped from John’s embrace, pulled her red dress back on, and walked toward the balcony. John followed, hastily buttoning his pants. He lit a cigarette, the smoke gently drifting towards Eveline.

“It’s Edward’s turn to be part of my plan,” Eveline whispered, her gaze fixed on the glittering lights of the city. “I’ll meet him tomorrow. My poor uncle still thinks I’m just an innocent niece.”

John nodded, smiling faintly. “Take it slow, Eve. Convince the old man to hand everything over to you.”

Eveline laughed softly, leaning against John. “He’s lonely, John. Lonely people trust easily. Just one small act of kindness, and he’ll give me everything.”

John held her from behind, whispering in her ear. “If that’s the case, why not deal with Richard too? Your husband. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Eveline turned around, gently pushing against John’s chest. Her gaze turned ice-cold. She caught John's chin with her fingers, pressing down slightly. “Richard still has to live,” she said softly, but it was enough to silence John. “Remember, John! I’m the one who decides who we execute. Don’t ever try to boss me around.”

***

The next day, the sun was beginning to peek out from behind the clouds when Eveline arrived on the outskirts of Velmore. Edward Moreau's estate stood quietly there, while the rich scent of grapes drifted from the backyard vineyard into the dining room.

Edward was relaxing in his casual T-shirt when Eveline came in with a warm smile. She called out to him, her eyes shining with innocence. "Uncle, look, I brought you your favorite apple pie," she said sweetly, placing the dish on the table.

Edward grinned widely. "You truly are the most considerate niece, Eve. You always know how to make me happy. Sit down, come join me for a bite."

They enjoyed their meal together. Eveline took care of her uncle—pouring wine, fixing his plate, and even gently dabbing the crumbs from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. She looked so elegant and genuine. But deep down, her thoughts were racing.

"Uncle," she started, her voice soft and innocent, "have you ever thought about the future? Hmm... I mean, about how to ensure everything you’ve built stays intact." Her words faded off slightly as she lowered her gaze.

Edward looked a bit surprised, his eyebrows lifting in astonishment. He placed his wine glass down and observed Eveline with newfound curiosity. “Are you talking about wealth?” He let out a soft sigh. "Don’t worry, Eve. If I ever fall ill or something happens to me, I have some savings and insurance. It’s enough for me to live comfortably without burdening anyone.”

Eveline looked down shyly, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. "Oh, it's not like that at all, Uncle. I don't think that way." She lifted her face, her eyes filled with warmth. "I just want you to be at peace. All your hard work, everything you've built—it's so precious. I just don't want it to go to waste."

Edward froze. A flicker of doubt crossed his aging eyes. “But honestly, Eve,” his voice slowed, “don’t you want anything from me? Wealth tends to attract people who only care about the commas in my bank account.”

Eveline was stunned for a moment, then quickly looked down, her shoulders slumping slightly as if hurt by the implication. But when she lifted her face again, it held nothing but pure innocence. ​“Uncle …” her voice trembled softly, “it breaks my heart that you would think that.” She clasped her hands tightly on the table. “I’m not here for your wealth. I’m here because you’re my closest family, after my mother. If even you don’t believe in me, then who else will?”

The doubt in Edward’s eyes crumbled. He let out a heavy sigh.

​“To be honest, Eve—” Edward's expression softened as he looked at her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I’m old now, with no children or wife. My wealth, though modest, must fall into the right hands.”

​He took a sip of his wine, then smiled faintly. “Do you remember your cousin, Andrew Moreau? The one who has lived abroad since he was a child? A long time ago, I used to visit him whenever I had business in Zovaria. I hear he’s grown into a fine young man. Even though we rarely see each other, he’s still family. After all, he’s the heir to the Moreau name.”

​That name made Eveline’s fingers tighten for a brief second, though her expression never changed. She folded her hands neatly on the table, masking the sudden rush of panic with a look of gentle surprise.

​“Oh, Andrew,” she murmured, her eyes widening. “Of course I remember him, Uncle. He’s Uncle Edy’s only child, right? It was such a tragedy when Uncle Edy passed away and Andrew had to move abr