Chapter 249

Lucas Bennett cut an imposing figure as he entered, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders.

His stormy expression sent a chill through the air—clearly, he'd heard every word of the heated exchange.

His icy gaze locked onto Ethan Caldwell. "First," he bit out, "I didn't cheat. Unlike you, who's been sleeping with Vanessa Hart for months. So spare me the hypocrisy."

"Second," he continued, voice dropping to a dangerous timbre, "until the divorce papers are signed, Claire Dawson remains my wife. If you have an issue, you deal with me. Attacking her? Pathetic."

Claire's breath caught. She hadn't anticipated Lucas's sudden appearance.

The way he defended her so fiercely in front of everyone sent conflicting emotions swirling through her chest.

Ethan's jaw tightened, humiliation and rage warring in his expression as the crowd's murmurs grew.

Then, a delicate hand tugged at his sleeve.

Vanessa offered a fragile smile. "Ethan, it's alright. My concussion was just an accident. I don't blame anyone." Her fingers trembled against his arm. "Let's not make a scene."

The unspoken plea in her eyes only deepened Ethan's scowl.

Lucas didn't miss the exchange. A sardonic smirk twisted his lips. "How touching. The mistress playing peacemaker."

Claire flinched at his harsh words, but Lucas stepped closer, deliberately shielding her from view.

The tension crackled like live wires.

Ethan finally snapped. "You arrogant bastard—"

"Save it." Lucas cut him off with a dismissive wave. "If you want a fight, name the time and place. But harassing my wife?" His smile turned razor-sharp. "That ends now."

A stunned silence fell over the onlookers.

Claire stared at Lucas's profile, her pulse erratic. This wasn't the detached husband she knew.

Something had changed.

And judging by the dark promise in Lucas's eyes, the real performance was just beginning.

The sun streamed through the hospital windows, casting long shadows across the sterile floor.

Evelyn exhaled softly, her fingers brushing against the crisp sheets. "It's over now. Vanessa is still my sister, no matter what. What's done is done—no use crying over spilled milk."

The situation had spiraled completely out of Vanessa's grasp.

And Claire? She was fighting like a lioness today. With Lucas backing her every word, Vanessa knew pushing further would only backfire.

She already looked more pitiful than Evelyn. That was enough.

Vanessa pressed a trembling hand to her temple. "Ethan… could you take me to my room? My head is pounding."

Ethan studied her for a moment. The pallor of her skin wasn't faked this time. He offered his arm without a word.

The doctor had ordered bed rest, after all.

Just then, Alexander, who had been silent as a shadow, finally spoke. "Leaving so soon?"

His voice was cool, detached. He moved past the others without sparing them a glance, stopping only when he reached Evelyn's side.

Leaning down, his lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "Had enough rest, darling? The stage is yours now."

The words were meant for her alone.

Evelyn's eyes widened.

He knew.

He knew she had been awake this whole time.

And now—it was her turn to perform.

Did You Actually Sleep Last Night?

How did he know?

Had I given myself away?

Did anyone else notice?

Their whispered conversation made Ethan's knuckles turn white. His emerald eyes darkened with barely contained fury, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching.

Evelyn blinked slowly, her voice deliberately weak. "I'm sorry, everyone. I hit my head last night and felt terrible. I just regained consciousness."

Vanessa studied Evelyn with narrowed eyes.

Lying on the hospital bed, Evelyn looked every bit the groggy patient who'd just woken up. But Vanessa's mind raced. Not a single bruise on her perfect face. How convenient.

She claims she fainted? More like took a nap.

If it weren't for Ethan and Nathan insisting Evelyn fell with me yesterday, I'd swear she never touched the ground.

Why do I have a splitting headache and cuts while she's completely untouched? Life's not fair.

"Vanessa," Evelyn's voice cut through her thoughts, "are you still accusing me of pushing you? Don't you think it's time to tell the truth?"

The heart monitor beeped steadily in the tense silence.

Vanessa gasped, her fingers tightening around her champagne flute. "It was you... Never mind, Evelyn. I said I wouldn't dwell on the past."

The forced generosity in her voice only exposed the tremor of guilt beneath.

Evelyn's lips curved into a knowing smile before she exhaled dramatically. "Very well. Since you insist on playing the martyr, I'll confess—I did give you that little push."

A collective gasp rippled through the gathered guests.

Every eye in the ballroom widened. They'd expected fiery denials, legal threats, anything but this casual admission.

Even Vanessa staggered back half a step, her perfectly contoured face slack with shock.

The crystal chandeliers overhead seemed to dim as tension crackled through Horizon Enterprises' annual gala.

Champagne bubbles burst against Vanessa's trembling lips as she struggled to regain composure. Across from her, Evelyn adjusted an emerald bracelet—Alexander's latest gift—with deliberate calm.

"Though I must ask," Evelyn continued, tilting her head, "why were you standing so close to the balcony edge that night?"

Murmurs erupted among the socialites. A server nearly dropped his silver tray.

Vanessa's manicured nails dug into her palms. "That's—that's irrelevant!"

Evelyn's laugh tinkled like the ice in her glass. "Is it?"

Near the grand piano, Nathan Reeves discreetly signaled security. This charity event was about to become front-page news.

The scent of gardenias from centerpieces grew cloying as Vanessa's breathing turned shallow. She'd orchestrated this confrontation to humiliate Evelyn, not... this.

Alexander Whitmore appeared in the arched doorway, his Armani suit cutting through the crowd like a blade. His gaze locked onto his wife with predatory intensity.

"Darling," Evelyn purred, extending a hand, "you're just in time for the main act."