Chapter 11

The downpour blurred Ethan's vision, the taillights of the fleeing car dissolving into crimson streaks before vanishing completely.

Vanessa rushed to his side, struggling to keep the umbrella steady against the wind. "Ethan! What happened?"

He turned sharply, rainwater dripping from his jawline. Without hesitation, she angled the umbrella toward him, letting the cold droplets soak through her silk blouse.

For a heartbeat, he saw it—that same self-sacrificing instinct Evelyn used to have.

Evelyn would have done exactly that.

His grip tightened on Vanessa's wrist. Why the hell am I comparing her to Evelyn? I don’t care about Evelyn anymore.

Noticing Vanessa’s trembling lips, he shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her. The scent of his cologne clung to the fabric as she pulled it tighter.

"Do you think Evelyn actually means it this time?" Vanessa whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm. "About breaking the engagement?"

Ethan scoffed, drawing her against his chest. The warmth of her body seeped into his rain-chilled skin.

"Don’t be naive. This is just another one of her games." His thumb traced her collarbone possessively. "She’ll come crawling back. She always does."

The certainty in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Somewhere in the downpour, a car horn blared—sharp, impatient. Like a warning.

Vanessa chewed her bottom lip nervously. "She looked absolutely furious tonight. Shouldn't you call and check where she went?"

Ethan waved a dismissive hand. "Don't bother. She'll come crawling back with an apology soon enough."

He had never been the type to initiate contact with Evelyn first.

In their relationship, she had always been the one to bridge the gap, regardless of whose fault it was.

She was the one who swallowed her pride, and he had grown accustomed to it.

Outside, the storm raged violently.

Lightning split the sky like jagged cracks in glass, followed by deafening thunder that shook the windows.

Simon stood beside the hospital bed, his voice low. "Ms. Carter has a concussion. The doctors recommend keeping her under observation for at least three more days."

Alexander's gaze remained fixed on Evelyn's bandaged ankle, his jaw clenched.

Simon cleared his throat before continuing. "The porcelain shards cut deep. Treatment was delayed, so scarring is likely permanent. The bone, however, is intact."

Alexander's expression remained unreadable, but the air around him turned glacial.

The tension in the sterile hospital room was suffocating.

Evelyn lay motionless on the bed, her usually vibrant presence reduced to a fragile shadow. Though someone had changed her out of her drenched clothes, the way her slender frame barely made an impression on the mattress was unsettling.

The angry red imprint of a slap stood out starkly against her too-pale cheek.

Alexander's jaw clenched. That must have burned like hell.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, rolling it between his fingers before pressing it to his lips. At the last second, he remembered where he was and tucked it away with a frustrated sigh.

"Mr. Whitmore," Simon murmured, checking his watch discreetly. "Lucas is still waiting for you at the venue. If you don't leave now, they'll proceed without you."

"Let them."

Alexander dragged a chair to Evelyn's bedside and sat down heavily. "I'm not going anywhere tonight."

Simon opened his mouth to protest when Alexander's phone vibrated loudly.

Glancing at Evelyn's restless form, he stepped into the hallway before answering.

"Alex, what the hell?" Lucas Bennett's booming voice carried through the receiver. "You vanish without a word in the middle of negotiations? People are starting to think you got kidnapped by some femme fatale."

A humorless smirk twisted Alexander's lips. "Close enough. Jealous?"

"Dream on, pretty boy."

Lucas smirked, nudging Alexander with his elbow. "You honestly believe women will be lining up for you just because you served in the military? Wake up, man."

Alexander didn’t respond, the glow of his cigarette casting shadows across his sharp features.

They had been friends since they were kids, so Lucas knew he could push his buttons without consequence.

"Come on, everyone’s waiting," Lucas pressed. "Oh, and your nephew’s here too."

Alexander’s gaze darkened. "Ethan?"

"Yeah. The whole Hawthorne Estate scandal is all over the news. Your nephew’s got some nerve showing up here for drinks after everything that went down."

A cold, humorless smile curled Alexander’s lips, his expression unreadable.

"Tell them I’ll be there in five."

The tension in the air thickened as he crushed his cigarette beneath his boot.