Chapter 391

Evelyn Laurent paid no attention to the others' progress.

Even when she noticed the other three groups copying her methods—weaving grass mats, building cabins, gathering wild fruits—she merely glanced at them indifferently.

As long as they didn’t disturb her, she had no complaints.

Surprisingly, the next two days passed in unusual peace.

The other guests seemed to finally understand that survival, not competition, was the priority on this island.

Crystal Rothschild and Hugo Rothschild chose to reinforce their tent—building a cabin was too labor-intensive for just two people.

By the fourth day, all four camps had taken shape.

Evelyn’s team’s cabin remained the most impressive.

Rachel Clemenson and her brother still slept in tents. The hard bedding left Rachel sore and exhausted every morning.

Beatrice Quincy’s group had managed to build a cabin, though it stood crooked and unsteady.

Xander Quincy had woven her a comfortable grass mat, at least easing her discomfort.

Just as everyone settled into their routines, Evelyn grew restless.

She had explored nearly every corner of the island. If not for Timothy Gold stopping her, she would’ve ventured further.

Bored, she chopped down a few more trees.

This time, even Julian Langley couldn’t decipher what she was making.

She carefully stripped the bark and began carving something with her combat knife.

Julian and the others focused on gathering food.

Evelyn, however, was crafting gifts for her family.

She had decided to carve wooden figurines of them.

Though she only had a combat knife, her hands moved with astonishing precision.

The sea breeze brushed past as she worked, utterly absorbed.

Ethan Sullivan quietly gathered wild fruits, washed and sliced them, then sat beside her to feed her.

Their seamless coordination created such a warm atmosphere that Julian couldn’t help but envy them.

He tried to join, but Evelyn reminded him, "Julian, you’re blocking the light."

Grumbling, he stepped aside, shooting Ethan a resentful look.

That guy was too good at this.

Why was he always one step behind?

Julian lingered behind his sister, watching her deft fingers dance across the wood.

Twilight descended as city lights began to glow.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the glittering skyline.

My phone screen lit up suddenly. A message from Ethan Sullivan: "Meet me at our usual spot. 8 PM."

My fingers hovered over the screen before typing a single word: "Okay."

At 7:50, I pushed open the door of the secluded café.

Ethan was already seated in the corner, his slender fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.

"You're here." He looked up, his dark eyes unreadable.

I took the seat across from him. The rich aroma of coffee filled the air.

"What did you find?" I cut straight to the chase.

Ethan slid a manila envelope from his briefcase.

"Lowell Group's accounts are compromised." His voice dropped. "Someone's siphoning funds."

I flipped through the documents, my hands trembling slightly.

Each page revealed staggering sums. The endless zeros made my breath catch.

"Where is this money—" I lifted my gaze to meet his.

"Funneled into an offshore shell company." He took a sip of coffee. "Whoever's behind this is careful."

Suddenly, blinding headlights flashed through the window.

Instinctively, I turned away, shoving the files into my bag.

"Are you being followed?" Ethan's sharp eyes noticed my tension.

"Not sure." I pressed my lips together. "I've felt watched lately."

His gaze turned razor-sharp.

"Be careful around Vincent." The warning came abruptly.

My pulse jumped. "What do you mean?"

"He's been—" Ethan's words cut off as the café door burst open.

A familiar silhouette stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the streetlights.

"What a coincidence." Vincent's voice carried amused warmth. "I didn't know you two frequented this place."

My fingers tightened around my bag strap.

Ethan rose smoothly. "Mr. Lowell. Fancy seeing you here."

Vincent's gaze flickered between us. The air grew thick.

"Mind if I join you?" He pulled out the chair beside me with effortless grace.

His cologne wafted over me—spiced amber with a faint metallic tang.

"Of... course." I forced calm into my voice.

Ethan's phone vibrated sharply.

He checked the screen, his expression shifting. "Excuse me. An emergency."

Vincent smirked. "The busy life of a lawyer."

Ethan gave me a meaningful look before striding away.

Now it was just Vincent and me.

His fingers began tapping the table in the same rhythm Ethan had used earlier.

"I heard..." He leaned close, his breath warm against my ear, "you've been auditing company finances."

My blood turned to ice.

"Who told you that?" My voice came out brittle.

Vincent chuckled, his lips nearly brushing my skin.

"Nothing stays secret in this city, darling."

His hand slid to the nape of my neck. Cold as a serpent's touch.

"Especially not from you."