Chapter 116

The air crackled with tension as Ethan Caldwell let out a derisive laugh. "Evelyn, did you pay off that drunk? Clever move!" His voice dripped with venom. "Alexander, don't let her manipulate you."

Unease coiled in Ethan’s gut.

Alexander Whitmore never wasted words on women, yet his tone with Evelyn had shifted—subtle but undeniable.

Ethan feared what she might demand.

Tonight’s crowd was hungry for drama, and he refused to be their entertainment.

Alexander’s gaze sharpened, slicing through Ethan like ice. "Since when do I take orders from you?"

Ethan’s mouth snapped shut.

He wouldn’t dare challenge Alexander. Instead, he shot Evelyn a warning glare—Don’t push your luck.

The room held its breath.

All eyes locked onto Evelyn, anticipation thick in the air.

Then—

She simply shook her head.

A silent refusal.

The crowd murmured, disappointment flickering through them.

Ethan’s pulse spiked. What game is she playing now?

Alexander studied her, something unreadable in his expression.

Evelyn met his gaze, calm. Unyielding.

The standoff stretched, tension winding tighter.

Then—

A slow smirk curved Alexander’s lips.

Ethan’s stomach dropped.

This isn’t over.

The ambient lighting of Eclipse Lounge cast long shadows across Alexander Whitmore's sharp features as Evelyn Carter rose from her seat.

"I only came to wish you a happy birthday, Alexander," she said softly, fingers brushing against the edge of the table. "Please don't drink too much—it's not good for you."

Her gaze flickered toward the exit. "It's late. I should go."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, the click of her heels echoing in the sudden silence.

Alexander's piercing stare followed her retreating figure, lingering on the delicate curve of her wrist before his expression darkened.

Sebastian Cole scoffed, swirling his whiskey. "Seriously? Alexander actually gave her an opening, and she just... left?" He shook his head in disbelief. "After all that bold chasing, I expected her to demand something outrageous—like marriage."

Ethan Caldwell's jaw tightened. "Sebastian, shut up. There's no way Uncle Alexander would ever marry someone like her."

The words dripped with disdain, but Sebastian merely smirked.

Evelyn had been relentless in her pursuit of Alexander lately—so much so that many speculated she was only doing it to provoke Ethan.

Yet now, when presented with an opportunity, she had backed down.

Coward.

Sebastian leaned back, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Funny how the bravado disappears when it counts, isn't it?"

Ethan shot him a warning glare, but Sebastian only shrugged, unbothered.

Alexander remained silent, his fingers tightening around his glass.

The air thickened with unspoken tension.

Evelyn had walked away.

And for the first time, Alexander found himself wondering—why?

Alexander Whitmore had always been fearless. Coming from one of the wealthiest families in Cresthaven, he never hesitated to face any challenge head-on.

"You're not Alexander. How could you possibly know what he's thinking?" Lucas Bennett scoffed, crossing his arms. "What if he actually marries her? Right, Alex?"

Silence followed.

Lucas frowned. "Huh? Where did he go?"

The group turned, only to realize Alexander had slipped away unnoticed.

Meanwhile, Evelyn Carter found herself in the emergency room in the dead of night.

The chaos at Eclipse Lounge had ended with a shattered bottle, and a sharp fragment had sliced across her wrist.

At first, the adrenaline had numbed the pain. But as the night wore on, the throbbing intensified.

Two deep gashes marred her skin, still glistening with traces of blood.

She had tried to bandage it herself, but the awkward angle made it impossible.

The doctor examined the wound carefully. "You made the right call coming in," he said, adjusting his glasses. "There's a shard embedded in the tissue. If left untreated, it could cause complications later."

Evelyn exhaled, relieved she hadn’t ignored it.

But as the nurse prepped the anesthetic, her thoughts drifted back to Alexander’s sudden disappearance.

Had he really walked out on them?

Or was there something else going on?

The antiseptic stung as Dr. Wells cleaned Evelyn's wound, his tweezers meticulously extracting each tiny shard of glass.

She bit her lip, refusing to make a sound.

An hour later, her wrist was neatly wrapped in sterile gauze, the throbbing pain dulled but persistent.

Evelyn checked her phone—1:17 AM.

Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders as she stepped out of the emergency room. The streets were quiet, the usual bustle of Cresthaven subdued at this hour.

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the ride-hailing app.

Then she looked up—and froze.

Alexander stood there, his coat draped over one arm, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the hospital lights.

Her breath caught.

What was he doing here?

Had he followed her?

Or had he been waiting all along?

The questions tangled in her mind, but before she could voice any of them, he stepped forward, his voice low.

"Let's go home."

Two words.

Simple.

Yet they unraveled something inside her.

She didn't argue.

She didn't ask how he knew where she was.

She just nodded.

And for the first time that night, she didn't feel alone.