Chapter 102

Evelyn said firmly, “Dominic, I won’t take your money. Don’t bring it up again.”

His voice darkened. “Why not? Is my money tainted?”

She hesitated before answering, “I don’t want anyone’s money. I don’t want to rely on others.”

Her words left Dominic silent.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t disturb me.”

Evelyn turned her back to him, her slender frame barely visible under the thin blanket. Dominic reached out to tuck the thicker blanket around her, but she pushed it away immediately.

“Use yours. Don’t touch mine.”

The bed held two blankets—his thick, hers light. The heater hummed softly, keeping the room warm.

“You should take the thick one,” Dominic offered. His weakened constitution made him sensitive to the cold, and he assumed she felt it too.

Evelyn scoffed. “Trying to give me heatstroke? Just sleep. You need to leave before my mom gets back tomorrow. Your presence is disrupting our lives.”

Dominic pulled his blanket up. “Fine.”

Ten minutes later, Evelyn grabbed her phone and turned toward him. The dim glow illuminated his face—his eyes open, dark and unreadable.

“Why aren’t you asleep? Are you cold?” she asked.

“A little. Aren’t you?”

Evelyn wore a short-sleeved shirt, her arms bare, while Dominic was bundled under layers. They might as well have been in different seasons.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get you another blanket.” She started to rise.

Dominic caught her wrist. “Just share yours.”

“Oh.”

She reluctantly shifted, allowing him half of her blanket. But now, the only way to stay covered was to press closer to him. Realizing this, she tried to sit up again.

“Stop moving,” he murmured, pulling her back. His arm draped over her, warm and heavy.

Eleanor Blackwood sat stiffly on the sofa in Dominic’s mansion, too furious to eat. When the driver returned from delivering Dominic’s belongings, she interrogated him.

“Is the apartment small?”

“Tiny,” the driver admitted. “The entire place isn’t as big as this living room.”

Eleanor’s gaze swept the grand space, her blood pressure spiking.

“When I left, Clara had already checked into a hotel. Only Mr. Blackwood and Evelyn are there now.”

“That girl—” Eleanor’s hands clenched. “What if she harms him? Dominic is ill! How could you leave him alone with her? Where’s the bodyguard? He must never leave his side!”

The driver stammered, “It’s… probably fine. The bodyguard mentioned they, uh… reconnected earlier. There might still be feelings.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened. “He’s sick! How could he—? That vixen! I’m bringing him home. If he stays with her, she’ll drain him dry!”

Mrs. Wilkins exchanged a glance with the driver before stepping forward. “If you go now, you’ll only push him further away. Let the driver fetch him tomorrow.”

“You’ve been brainwashed too!” Eleanor snapped, shaking her off.

Mrs. Wilkins retreated, wisely silent.

“Take me there,” Eleanor ordered the driver. “I’ll just watch from outside. I won’t go in.”

Minutes later, the car idled outside Evelyn’s rundown apartment complex. Eleanor stared at the peeling paint and cracked sidewalks, tears welling in her eyes.