Chapter 192
The headlights cut through the darkness like twin blades. Evelyn instinctively lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the blinding glare.
A sliver of golden light slipped between her fingers, painting her slender silhouette in an ethereal glow.
Through the rain-streaked windshield, Evelyn caught sight of Alexander's chiseled features—those sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes that always made her breath hitch.
The luxury sedan came to an abrupt halt mere inches from where she stood, tires hissing against the wet pavement.
Alexander emerged instantly, black umbrella snapping open with military precision.
His polished Oxfords splashed through puddles as he strode toward her with that unmistakable air of authority.
The hollow ache in Evelyn's chest vanished the moment his shadow fell over her. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
"Wasn't he attending the gala at Cresthaven Grand?"
"How did he get here so fast?"
Alexander's gaze swept over Evelyn with laser focus.
His eyes zeroed in on the torn chiffon at her hemline first—the fabric fluttering like wounded butterfly wings.
There she stood in the storm's embrace, drenched yet defiant, radiating a quiet strength that never failed to undo him.
A sharp pang of anguish pierced through Alexander's chest.
The mere thought of Evelyn suffering any injustice made his dark eyes turn glacial.
Noticing how the cold had drained the color from her face, he swiftly removed his tailored suit jacket and wrapped it around her slender shoulders.
His fingers lingered lightly on her arm as he murmured, "Forgive me for keeping you waiting."
"You're right on time," Evelyn replied, tilting her face up to meet his gaze with a fragile smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Alexander's jaw tightened. He knew that smile—the one she wore like armor when she was hurting.
Something had happened tonight. Something that wounded her.
Vanessa seized the moment, her voice dripping with false concern. "Uncle Alexander, you should know—Aunt Evelyn just disowned Mom and Dad at Hawthorne Estate."
"Disowned?" His brow furrowed sharply.
Vanessa nodded eagerly, scenting blood in the water. "After everything they've done for her these past twelve years, she repays them like this. Doesn't that seem heartless to you?"
When Alexander remained silent, his expression unreadable, she pressed on. "She even demanded the deed to Hawthorne Estate. When Mom and Dad tried to reason with her, she threatened to sever all family ties!"
The night air grew heavier with each accusation. Alexander's gaze never left Evelyn, searching for the truth beneath her carefully constructed calm.
Vanessa wasn't finished. "She's changed, Uncle Alexander. The Evelyn you knew wouldn't—"
"Enough."
The single word, spoken softly yet with lethal precision, silenced her instantly. Alexander's attention remained fixed on Evelyn as he reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a silent question.
Evelyn's breath hitched. That simple touch threatened to unravel her composure.
"Let's go home," he said, not as a suggestion but a promise—one that held the unspoken vow that whatever storm had raged here tonight, they would weather it together.
Vanessa's mouth opened in protest, but the icy glare Alexander shot her way froze the words in her throat.
As they turned to leave, Evelyn's fingers tightened around his. For the first time that evening, her smile reached her eyes.
"Look at me." Vanessa gestured dramatically at her mud-stained clothes. "I only wanted to reason with her, but she shoved me into that puddle in a fit of rage. Now I'm drenched—all because of her."
She painted the scene with exaggerated flair, her voice dripping with false innocence.
"Uncle Alexander, how could you marry someone like Evelyn? She's vile."
Vanessa tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "Did she trap you? Chase you until you had no choice?"
Her gaze flickered to Evelyn, smug satisfaction curling her lips.
Today was the day she'd rip off Evelyn's mask in front of Alexander. Once he saw the truth, Evelyn would never recover her dignity.
Did she really think clinging to Alexander made her invincible?
A man like him would never tolerate such disgraceful behavior.
An unfilial wife? That alone would ruin her.
Alexander smiled.
But it was ice-cold.
"Oh?" His voice was deceptively light. "Is that how it happened?"
Evelyn sensed his presence and lifted her gaze to meet his.
Alexander's profile was breathtakingly perfect. His piercing blue eyes, aristocratic nose, and chiseled jawline could make any woman's pulse quicken with just a glance.
The moment their eyes locked, electricity crackled between them.
In the muted glow of the streetlights, Alexander noticed Evelyn's lips quivering.
Realizing she was freezing, he immediately pulled her close, shielding her from the rain as he guided her toward the waiting car.
"Get in," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "There's a wool throw in the back. Wrap yourself in it."
Evelyn gave a small nod. Though she wore Alexander's tailored jacket, her clothes were drenched, offering no warmth against the autumn chill.
The moment she slid into the heated leather seats, warmth began seeping back into her bones.
Alexander didn't join her. Instead, he turned back toward the downpour, the black umbrella in his grip trembling under the assault of wind and rain.
His silhouette against the storm was both protective and dangerous—a knight standing guard against the tempest.
Evelyn watched through the rain-streaked window as he barked orders into his phone, his commanding presence undiminished by the weather.
The blanket smelled faintly of his cologne—sandalwood and something uniquely Alexander. She pulled it tighter around her shoulders, her fingers brushing against something hard in the pocket.
A small velvet box.
Her breath caught.
Outside, the storm raged on. But inside the car, Evelyn's world had just tilted on its axis.
What game was Alexander Whitmore playing now?