Chapter 141

A wave of unexpected clarity washed over Ethan Caldwell.

"So it was all true. Evelyn Carter and Alexander Whitmore never had romantic feelings for each other. Their marriage was purely transactional."

Evelyn had married Alexander to spite him—that much was obvious.

But why had Alexander agreed?

A man like Alexander Whitmore, who had shown zero interest in women for nearly three decades, suddenly tying the knot with Evelyn? Love was out of the question.

There had to be another reason.

Was he pressured into it by William Hayes?

Yes, that had to be it.

At twenty-nine, Alexander must have grown tired of the constant nagging about settling down. Marrying Evelyn was simply the path of least resistance.

A marriage of convenience. Mutual benefit, nothing more.

Trevor Moss frowned, sensing something wasn’t adding up.

Trevor's mind raced as he pieced together recent events.

Ethan had once treated Evelyn with complete indifference, as if she didn't exist. Now, he was obsessed with her every move.

He had even abandoned Vanessa, his newlywed wife, without a second thought.

Something was very wrong.

A daring thought struck Trevor. Ethan cares for Evelyn—maybe even loves her without realizing it.

Earlier, when Evelyn had called, her tone had been chilling.

What had she repeated?

"Trevor, Ethan's about to die."

Those words had sent a jolt of terror through him. He'd demanded an explanation, but Evelyn's voice had been glacial. Even through the phone, he could picture her blank expression.

"You'll see when you get here," she'd said.

Then, she'd hung up and sent the address.

Her message was clear. Evelyn wanted Ethan gone—like he was nothing more than a persistent pest.

Trevor doubted Evelyn held any lingering affection for Ethan.

But now, watching Ethan's desperate state, he wasn't sure if revealing the truth was wise.

If he did, Ethan would undoubtedly shatter.

By dusk, Alexander's car arrived at the apartment.

Evelyn had already packed everything.

Alexander effortlessly lifted her suitcase into the trunk.

As they drove, Evelyn realized they weren't heading to their usual home.

She turned to Alexander, puzzled. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere bigger."

He had clearly planned this. Evelyn simply nodded.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at an opulent villa.

A sprawling garden welcomed them, meticulously tended by gardeners. The scent of blooming flowers carried on the breeze.

The mansion was vast, every corner reflecting Alexander's impeccable taste. Evelyn suspected he had lived here long before their marriage.

Yet, apart from the security at the gate, the place felt eerily empty.

"Did he really live in this enormous house alone?"

Her mind wandered to his past, and an unexpected pang of sympathy struck her.

"Cast aside by his family as a child, surviving in a rundown shack for years."

"The housekeeping staff comes weekly. You won’t need to lift a finger."

Alexander’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. "I’ve stocked up on essentials. If anything’s missing, we’ll get it."

Evelyn nodded, slipping into the slippers by the door before stepping further inside.

The unfamiliarity of the space made her hesitate. Her gaze swept over the grand interiors, searching for something familiar.

"The bedrooms are upstairs. Feel free to look around."

Alexander filled two glasses from the water dispenser. He drained one in a single gulp before turning to hand the other to Evelyn.

His fingers brushed against hers, sending an unexpected jolt through her.

She took the glass, her pulse quickening.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken words.

Evelyn sipped the water, her eyes darting away.

The house might have been his for years, but now, it was theirs.

And that realization settled between them, quiet but undeniable.

The moment Evelyn disappeared up the staircase, Alexander couldn't suppress the grin tugging at his lips.

He took the steps two at a time, following her.

The second floor held three rooms—one of them a study, its door slightly ajar.

But Evelyn didn’t stop there.

She pushed open another door—and froze.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of countless candles, their flickering light casting dancing shadows across walls adorned with cascading roses.

Her breath caught.