Chapter 187

Ethan Caldwell found himself seated beside Richard Hayes when the confrontation erupted. Stopping the older man's impulsive action was pure reflex.

He could have remained uninvolved. Yet seeing Richard's hand rise against Evelyn Carter, his body moved before his mind could process the consequences.

"Let's handle this with words. We're all civilized people here," Ethan interjected, his voice steady despite the tension.

Richard's lips twisted into an awkward grimace as he withdrew his hand.

The realization struck him—losing control in front of Ethan was beneath him. Striking Evelyn in anger would only make him appear weak, incapable of managing his emotions like the patriarch he claimed to be.

Vanessa Hart stood frozen, shock rendering her speechless.

Ethan defending Evelyn? The thought sent an acidic wave through her chest. Her gaze darted between them, fingers tightening around her clutch.

That protective instinct should have been reserved for her.

"Ethan," she forced out, voice brittle, "I never expected you to shield Aunt Evelyn like this." The unspoken accusation hung heavy—Why her?

Evelyn remained still, observing the dynamics with quiet calculation. Ethan's intervention changed nothing. But the flicker of surprise in his eyes when their gazes met? That was interesting.

Richard cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. "You're right. This isn't the place for theatrics." The words were meant to salvage his dignity, but the tremor in his hands betrayed him.

Vanessa's manicured nails dug into her palms.

First Alexander Whitmore, now Ethan. Everyone kept choosing Evelyn over her.

The game wasn't over yet.

The words "Auntie Evelyn" slipped from Vanessa's lips with deliberate precision, a sharp reminder of the unbridgeable gap between Ethan and Evelyn now.

It was a calculated strike—proof that Evelyn belonged to Alexander now.

As expected, Ethan froze at the title. His gaze dropped, shoulders tensing as silence swallowed him whole. His thoughts were a storm no one could decipher.

Margaret rushed forward, her voice honeyed with diplomacy. "Evelyn, sweetheart, apologize to your father. Look how hurt he is."

For Richard's pride, an apology would smooth things over. They were family, after all. Grudges didn't linger where blood ran thick.

It was also the perfect way to make Evelyn retreat from her claim on the estate.

"I did nothing wrong," Evelyn stated, her voice steel wrapped in velvet.

Her conviction didn't waver as she continued, "I'm only reclaiming what was always meant to be mine. Where is the crime in that?"

Margaret's brows pinched. "What are you talking about? The shares, the estate—they belong to the Hayes family."

"Exactly. Hayes family property. Yet it's Vanessa who holds it now. She's an outsider—no blood, no right!"

Her voice cracked like a whip. "You all coddle her, handing over what Grandfather William left for me.

"I know Dad only made that bet to force me to surrender my inheritance."

The air turned brittle.

Evelyn's fingers curled into fists. "But I won't back down. Not this time."

Richard's face darkened, but before he could speak, Alexander stepped forward, his presence a silent shield.

His voice, when it came, was deceptively calm. "Perhaps it's time we settled this legally."

Vanessa paled.

Ethan finally looked up, his eyes burning with something unreadable. "Evelyn—"

She cut him off. "Respect is earned, not demanded. And right now, none of you deserve mine."

The room held its breath.

Then—

The front doors burst open.

A figure stood silhouetted against the afternoon light, his arrival ripping through the tension like a blade.

Everyone turned.

And froze.

Because standing there, his expression unreadable, was the last person any of them expected to see.

Oliver Hayes.

Evelyn's younger brother—back from the dead.

The storm outside mirrored the tempest in Evelyn's heart.

"But don't you think that's excessive?" Her voice trembled with suppressed fury. "That cello was Grandfather William's last gift to me. If none of you care, why shouldn't he?"

Vanessa had stolen everything—her fiancé, her home. For years, Richard had secretly funneled company dividends to Vanessa without Evelyn's knowledge. And now? They demanded an apology, labeling her ungrateful and disrespectful.

"How exactly have I failed you?" Evelyn's nails dug into her palms. "If I'm such a disappointment, why summon me back? We both know I'm nothing but an inconvenience. Vanessa—your precious imposter—is the only daughter you acknowledge."

Lightning split the sky, illuminating the frozen shock on Margaret's face.

The silence was deafening.

A sharp pain radiated from Evelyn's twisted ankle, but it paled against the raw agony in her chest.

She'd been a fool to hope.

Tonight wasn't just about retrieving her cello. It was Margaret's birthday. Despite everything, Evelyn had clung to the childish belief that shared blood meant something. That showing up for dinner might bridge the chasm between them.

After all, Margaret's chronic back pain stemmed from Evelyn's birth. Didn't that warrant basic decency?

Now, watching her mother's icy indifference, Evelyn finally understood.

Some wounds never heal.

Some families never love.

Thunder growled as she turned toward the door, her resolve hardening with each step. This time, she wouldn't look back.

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the penthouse, casting a golden glow over the polished marble floors. Evelyn Carter stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, her reflection a perfect silhouette against the glittering skyline of Cresthaven.

She took a slow sip of her coffee, the rich aroma grounding her.

Behind her, Alexander Whitmore adjusted his cufflinks, his sharp gaze meeting hers in the glass. "You're quiet this morning," he remarked, his voice low and smooth.

Evelyn exhaled, setting her cup down. "Just thinking."

"About?"

She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms. "About how far we've come."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "And yet, you still look like you're preparing for war."

"Because I am."

The air between them shifted, charged with unspoken tension.

Alexander stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You don’t have to fight alone anymore."

She held his gaze, her own unwavering. "I know."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Nathan Reeves entered, his expression carefully neutral. "Mr. Whitmore, the board is waiting."

Alexander gave a curt nod. "Give us a minute."

Once the door closed again, Evelyn arched a brow. "Trouble?"

"Always." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "But nothing I can't handle."

She smirked. "I’d expect nothing less."

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Stay out of trouble."

"Make me."

His chuckle was dark as he pulled away. "Later."

The moment he left, Evelyn’s phone buzzed. A message from Vanessa Hart.

"We need to talk."

Her grip tightened on the device.

Vanessa never reached out unless it was serious.

Evelyn typed a quick reply. "Where?"

The response was immediate.

"Eclipse Lounge. Noon."

She exhaled sharply.

Whatever this was, it wouldn’t be good.

But then again, when had anything involving Vanessa ever been?

Evelyn grabbed her coat, her mind already racing.

The game was far from over.

And she was ready to play.