Chapter 197

Alexander's voice was laced with concern. "Have you been drinking too much?"

Evelyn blinked slowly. "No... I'm perfectly sober."

Her vision swam slightly. Every movement felt delayed, her words thick like honey.

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Alexander sighed, brushing a stray curl from her flushed cheek. "If you're hurting, let it out. Drowning in alcohol won't heal anything."

Evelyn remained silent, as if processing his words through fog. She mumbled again, "I told you... I'm not drunk."

A smirk tugged at Alexander's lips. "Prove it then. Kiss me."

Evelyn froze.

His gaze burned into hers, intense and unwavering. "If you're truly sober, this should be easy."

"Really?"

She pressed her palms to her overheated cheeks, tilting her head in consideration.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth—that sharp, tempting curve. With a soft exhale, she leaned forward.

Rain drummed against the car roof in a rhythmic tattoo.

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Water cascaded down the windows, cocooning them in their own private world. The storm erased everything beyond this intimate space.

The air between them grew thick, charged.

Their breaths tangled as Evelyn lifted trembling hands to frame Alexander's face.

When their eyes locked, his throat moved visibly.

Just as their lips were about to meet—

Evelyn swayed.

Her mouth grazed past his, landing clumsily against his collarbone instead.

Alexander shuddered.

His pulse roared in his ears. Tendons stood stark along his clenched hands.

Then Evelyn melted against him, boneless and warm. Her entire body molded to his chest.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Alexander's ribs threatened to crack from the force of his pounding heart.

The woman in his arms was undeniably, devastatingly intoxicated.

Every touch was accidental, yet it set his blood ablaze.

She was warm and pliant against him, completely unaware as she nestled into his chest. Deep in slumber, her breathing was soft and even.

Her delicate fingers curled around his waist, sending an electric jolt through his body. Alexander stiffened instantly, every muscle taut with tension.

His Adam's apple moved visibly as he swallowed hard, fighting to keep his control in check.

His palm traced slow circles along her back, his voice rough with barely restrained desire when he finally spoke.

"Evelyn," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Wake up. Kiss me again."

She didn’t stir.

Frustration coiled inside him. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to face him.

Then, with deliberate intent, he pressed her back against the seat, caging her beneath him.

Alexander leaned in, his thumb brushing her cheek before his lips captured hers in a searing kiss.

Heat surged through him, his mouth demanding, possessive.

Still asleep, Evelyn turned her face away, a faint whimper escaping her as she tried to evade him.

But he wouldn’t let her.

His fingers laced through hers, pinning her hand beside her head as he deepened the kiss.

Their breaths tangled, their bodies flush.

And still, she didn’t wake.

Her hands trembled as she was forced into submission.

The man’s throat worked, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a rough swallow. A dark, humorless laugh slipped past his lips.

"Evelyn, even if you're drunk now, it doesn’t matter. You’ll be mine eventually. Just wait."

Outside, the sleek black Bentley rolled past, its headlights cutting through the dimly lit street.

Ethan Caldwell gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.

Spotting Alexander Whitmore’s vintage car parked haphazardly by the curb, his instincts screamed at him to stop.

The driver’s seat was empty.

As his high beams swept across the interior, the scene froze him in place.

Evelyn was pressed into the backseat, her face flushed, eyes tightly shut. Alexander had her pinned, his mouth trailing down her neck.

Their bodies were tangled, lost in a heated embrace that left no room for misinterpretation.

Ethan’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.

The rain-slicked road blurred before him.

His mind went blank, his grip on reality slipping.

The car had barely traveled two hundred meters when—

Crash.

The impact was deafening as the Bentley plowed straight into a flower bed, metal crunching against concrete.