Chapter 8

Evelyn stood frozen in the doorway, her breath catching at the sight before her.

Dominic was curled into himself, arms wrapped tightly around his knees as he leaned against the wall.

His usually immaculate dark hair was disheveled, strands falling haphazardly over his forehead.

At the sound of movement, he lifted his head slowly, his gaze unfocused and distant.

"Dominic!" Evelyn gasped, her pulse spiking at the sight of his ashen face. "What happened to you?"

Her hands trembled as she took in his hollowed cheeks, the cracked dryness of his lips. His breathing was uneven, labored, as if speaking took more effort than he could muster.

Mrs. Wilkins hurried in with a steaming cup of tea, pressing it into Dominic’s hands.

"Drink this, Master Blackwood," she urged softly. "You'll feel better."

Evelyn’s eyes darkened with fury. "He hasn’t been eating?" Her voice was sharp, laced with disbelief. "Is this Evelyn’s doing? Is she starving him?"

The realization hit her like a physical blow.

She stormed into the living room, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she confronted her son.

"Dominic, Evelyn is your wife—the one I chose for you. Do you have any idea how this looks? How it makes me feel?"

Dominic’s expression remained cold, detached. "She’s being punished for her mistakes. If not for you, she wouldn’t even be here."

His voice was devoid of emotion, as if discussing the weather rather than a person’s suffering.

"Mistakes? What could she possibly have done?" Evelyn demanded.

In her eyes, Evelyn was nothing but respectful, obedient—far too intelligent to provoke Dominic deliberately.

Dominic’s lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to answer.

"I know why you’ve resisted marriage all these years," Eleanor continued, her voice breaking. "And because I know, I won’t let you destroy this. Evelyn stays. Even if it’s in name only!"

Tears welled in her eyes, her chest heaving with the force of her emotions.

Dominic tensed, about to retaliate, when he noticed the pallor of his mother’s face. He signaled to his bodyguard, who immediately stepped forward to steady her.

"You won’t send her away," Eleanor gasped, her vision swimming. "Not unless you find someone else. I won’t let you spend your life alone—"

Her words cut off as her knees buckled.

Thirty seconds later, Eleanor Blackwood, freshly discharged from the hospital that morning, was rushed back in an ambulance.

Dominic hadn’t anticipated this.

His mother’s stubbornness, her fury—it complicated things.

He despised Evelyn.

But more than that, he despised the idea of any woman in his life.

There would be no replacement. No divorce.

Not yet.

——

In the guest room, Evelyn sipped the tea, the warmth seeping into her bones.

She had heard everything.

Dominic’s cold indifference. His mother’s collapse.

Mrs. Wilkins returned with a bowl of soup, gently brushing Evelyn’s tangled hair aside.

"You heard, Madam," she murmured. "As long as Lady Eleanor is here, Master Dominic won’t send you away."

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the spoon.

She had starved for two days. She was exhausted. But one thing was crystal clear.

"I want a divorce," she rasped, her voice raw but firm. "Whether he agrees or not, I’m leaving."

She wouldn’t stay in this nightmare a second longer.

She never wanted to see Dominic Blackwood again.

Mrs. Wilkins hesitated. "Don’t upset yourself, Madam. Eat first. I’ll check on things."

As she stepped out, Dominic’s wheelchair rolled into view.

Mrs. Wilkins stiffened. "Master Dominic, your mother—"

Dominic ignored her, his icy gaze locking onto Evelyn.

The air between them crackled with tension.

"Let’s get a divorce," Evelyn said, setting the bowl aside.

She grabbed her packed suitcase—ready since the night she’d been locked away.

"Marry someone you actually want," she spat.

Dominic’s eyes narrowed. "You hate me that much? You don’t think you deserved this?"

"I made a mistake. I used your computer," Evelyn forced out, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I’ve been punished. We’re even. Do you have the papers? If not, I’ll get them myself—"

Dominic cut her off with a dark chuckle. "Did I say your punishment was over?"

Evelyn froze.

The words struck like a physical blow.

"If staying with me is torture," he murmured, "then you’ll remain Mrs. Blackwood a little longer."

His tone left no room for argument.

"We’ll divorce," he added as his bodyguard wheeled him away. "Just not now."

Evelyn watched him go, her nails digging into her palms.

Who was he to decide?

Did he think she wouldn’t find a way?

A wave of dizziness hit her. Her legs gave out, and she barely made it to the bed before collapsing.

She forced herself to breathe.

Dominic hadn’t refused the divorce outright. He was stalling for his mother’s sake.

Fine.

She could wait.

——

A week later, Evelyn recovered enough to visit the hospital.

She was certain she’d lost the baby.

Two days without food. Only water.

No child could survive that.

The doctor ordered an ultrasound.

Evelyn braced herself for the worst.

"Doctor… is the baby gone?"

The doctor frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I didn’t eat for two days. The baby was already weak—"

"Two days without food isn’t ideal, but it’s not catastrophic," the doctor reassured her. "Some mothers can’t keep anything down for weeks."

Evelyn’s heart pounded.

"So… my baby is—"

"Congrattions," the doctor smiled. "There are two gestational sacs. You’re having twins."