Chapter 13

The master bathroom's marble tiles gleamed under the soft lighting as the nurse meticulously patted Dominic's damp skin with a plush towel.

Dominic's legs trembled slightly, still too weak to support his full weight without assistance. The nurse, a middle-aged man with gentle hands who'd been caring for him since the accident, steadied him with practiced ease.

"You've developed a bruise on your thigh, Mr. Blackwood," the nurse observed while securing the silk bathrobe around Dominic's broad shoulders. "Let me fetch some arnica cream."

Alone for a moment, Dominic parted the robe to examine the discolored skin.

The truth was, he'd felt every bit of Evelyn's pinch yesterday. He'd simply chosen not to react.

Why did her tear-streaked face keep haunting him?

And that delicate floral scent clinging to her skin - why couldn't he shake the memory of it?

In all his thirty-two years, no woman had ever stirred such conflicting emotions within him.

What madness made him obsess over a woman he'd soon divorce?

Yet if given the chance to relive last night, he'd still tear that damned dress from her body without hesitation.

...

At precisely 7:03 AM, Evelyn tiptoed into the dining room, hoping to avoid another confrontation.

"Madam! You're early today as well!" Mrs. Wilkins chirped, emphasizing the last word.

Evelyn froze when she spotted Dominic already seated at the table.

"I prepared vegetarian ravioli especially for you," Mrs. Wilkins continued, guiding Evelyn to her chair. "You mentioned avoiding meat yesterday."

Evelyn perched stiffly on the edge of her seat, her discomfort palpable enough to fill the entire room.

Dominic didn't glance up, yet he felt the weight of her resentment like a physical force between them.

"We're visiting Mother after breakfast," he stated coolly. "You know what topics to avoid."

"When exactly do you plan to reimburse me for that dress?" Evelyn countered, her voice sharp.

"There's limited cash on hand," Dominic replied, sipping his black coffee. "I can transfer the funds if it's urgent."

"Perfect." Evelyn snatched her phone, displaying her account details with a flourish. "Five thousand dollars."

Dominic's gaze snapped up. "The tag said $4,500."

"Then why ask?" Evelyn retorted, extending her bruised wrist. "The extra covers medical expenses."

Dominic's jaw tightened at the sight of the purple marks his fingers had left. He transferred the $4,500 without further comment.

The notification chime soothed a fraction of Evelyn's fury.

"Don't think this settles anything," she hissed. "I wouldn't forgive you for twice this amount."

Dominic responded by silently wheeling himself away, extinguishing another portion of her anger with his indifference.

...

By 9 AM, the Blackwood family assembled in the grand sitting room of the ancestral estate, gathered around the recently discharged Eleanor.

This hospital stay had been more serious than Eleanor's usual hypertension episodes - the ICU admission spoke volumes.

"How are you feeling, Dominic?" Eleanor asked, her frail hand patting his.

"Well enough," he replied, swallowing the harsh words he'd prepared.

Eleanor turned to Evelyn. "And you, dear? Is my son treating you properly?"

Evelyn forced a smile. "He's... adequate. You should focus on your recovery."

"Dominic's never pursued women before," Eleanor said conspiratorially. "He lacks romantic finesse, but his career must come first. You understand, don't you?"

Evelyn nearly choked on her tea. Never pursued women? Had Eleanor met her own son?

"Evelyn," Eleanor continued, "I heard about Thornfield Industries' troubles. Our lawyers confirm the debts won't affect you. Just stay married to Dominic."

Evelyn's grip tightened around her cup. "My father wouldn't want his life's work destroyed. I'll save it myself."

"Oh please!" Beatrice Thorne sneered. "Your father barely spent on you when the company flourished. Why cling to a sinking ship now? Hoping Dominic will bail you out?"

Gregory Blackwood chimed in, "125 million is no small sum. Who'd lend that to you besides our family?"

Heat rose in Evelyn's cheeks. "You overestimate my influence. Dominic wouldn't give me a penny if I begged."

The collective sigh of relief from the Blackwoods was almost comical.

Eleanor grasped Evelyn's hand. "There is a way... Give Dominic an heir, and he'll help you."

Evelyn's free hand drifted to her abdomen as she shot Dominic a sidelong glance.

He sipped his tea, the picture of detached calm.

...

The return car ride was suffocating in its silence, both occupants lost in thought.

Then Dominic spoke, his voice like winter frost:

"If you ever carried my child, I'd remove it myself."

Evelyn's blood turned to ice. Her lips parted, but no words came.