Chapter 98

"Evelyn! Have you forgotten who you belong to?!" Dominic's grip tightened around her wrists as he pinned them above her head. His voice was low, dangerous. "I warned you to stay away from Tristan. Don't test me."

It had been weeks since Evelyn had seen him like this—unhinged, volatile. His body was weakened from illness, yet his strength was terrifying. She knew better than to fight back. The more she resisted, the more unhinged he became.

For the sake of the babies growing inside her, she went still beneath him, letting him vent his fury.

"Why aren’t you speaking?" Dominic’s heated gaze burned into her. His fingers traced the curve of her cheek, sliding down to tangle in her hair. "Tell me what you want to hear. I’ll say it."

The fire in his eyes dimmed.

"Evelyn… am I truly beyond redemption?"

His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. His body radiated heat, warming her skin where they touched.

"You’re not," she admitted softly, her mask slipping. "Dominic, you’re extraordinary. Everything about you is… but I just want peace. Let me go."

The fragile hope in his eyes shattered. Before she could say another word, he crushed his lips against hers, silencing her.

At noon, Clara opened the door to Dominic’s bodyguard.

"Where’s Mr. Blackwood?" The man’s posture stiffened when he saw the empty living room.

Clara gestured toward the bedroom. "Inside."

The bodyguard exhaled sharply. "Right."

He wanted to ask when Dominic would emerge, but the answer was obvious—only Dominic knew.

"I made lunch," Clara offered warmly. "Would you like some? Where’s your partner? Call him in."

The bodyguard ignored her, pressing his ear against the bedroom door.

Silence.

Clara sighed. "The walls are thin. If they were talking, we’d hear them. He’s probably resting. He’s still unwell."

The bodyguard scowled. "The doctor ordered him to stay in bed. He shouldn’t have come."

Clara shrugged. "He’s safe here."

"Where’s Evelyn?" the bodyguard demanded.

"With him," Clara answered simply.

His eyes narrowed. "How long have they been in there?"

"About an hour? I was out earlier." Clara turned toward the kitchen. "If you’re not eating, I will."

The bodyguard’s jaw clenched. Their relationship had been strained, and Dominic was weakened. What if Evelyn—

He didn’t wait. He shoved the door open.

The sight that greeted him was unexpected.

Dominic lay motionless on the bed, bare-chested, eyes closed.

Evelyn stood beside him, clutching a blanket. She startled at the intrusion.

"What did you do to him?!" the bodyguard snarled, lunging forward to check Dominic’s pulse.

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "He’s not dead. Just asleep."

The bodyguard pulled back, embarrassed, then glared at Dominic’s exposed torso. "Why is he undressed? What kind of woman are you?"

"Don’t insult me!" Evelyn snapped. "He did it himself. Ask him when he wakes if you don’t believe me!"

The bodyguard’s gaze flickered over her—the thin nightgown, the marks on her skin. His face darkened.

"I’ll be outside. You take care of him." He stormed out.

Evelyn exhaled sharply, sinking onto the edge of the bed. Her eyes drifted to Dominic’s sleeping form.

What a mess.