Chapter 269
Ethan's voice cracked with emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "We had something real, Evelyn. You can't deny what we shared."
"I was a fool back then, blinded by my own naivety. But I've changed. Give me another chance."
His fingers trembled as he reached for her. "I know you still care—"
Evelyn stepped back, her expression unreadable. "You're drunk, Ethan. I'll pretend tonight never happened."
"I'm not drunk!" His voice rose, raw with desperation. "I've never been more clear-headed in my life!"
The wind howled between them, but Evelyn's resolve didn't waver.
Once, she might have fallen for his words. Not anymore.
When he grabbed her wrist, she twisted free and delivered a sharp slap across his cheek. "If you want to self-destruct, do it alone!"
The sound echoed in the silence.
Ethan staggered, his breath hitching.
Evelyn didn't wait for a response. She turned and ran, her heels clicking against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.
Evelyn froze when she felt Ethan's persistent footsteps behind her.
"This is Whitmore Manor. Release me this instant!" She shot him a venomous glare, her entire body trembling with barely contained fury.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the tension. "Ethan? Evelyn? What's happening here?"
Grace emerged from the garden path, her designer heels clicking against the cobblestones.
Truth be told, she'd been observing their heated exchange from behind the rose bushes for several minutes.
She'd deliberately held back, eavesdropping on every word of their private confrontation.
Never in her life had Grace witnessed her proud brother Ethan grovel like this before any woman.
The same brother who'd always treated women as disposable accessories was now literally begging Evelyn for forgiveness!
While Grace had never particularly liked Evelyn, she despised Vanessa Hart even more.
As a woman herself, Grace found Vanessa's nouveau riche pretentiousness unbearable - that tacky gold-digger aura made her skin crawl.
But hearing how Evelyn had been wronged all those years ago? That revelation hit Grace like a thunderbolt.
Her perfectly manicured fingers tightened around her clutch as she processed this bombshell.
The afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the manicured lawn, making the scene feel strangely theatrical.
Evelyn took advantage of Ethan's momentary distraction to wrench her wrist free, putting several feet between them.
Grace's sharp eyes darted between them, reassessing everything she thought she knew.
A flock of birds scattered from the nearby oak tree, their startled cries punctuating the heavy silence.
Evelyn straightened her blouse with jerky movements, her breathing still uneven from the confrontation.
Ethan's usually impeccable appearance looked disheveled for the first time Grace could remember.
The entire situation felt surreal - like watching a carefully constructed house of cards collapsing in slow motion.
Grace suddenly wondered if she'd severely misjudged the woman standing before her.
The realization settled in her stomach like a stone.
Perhaps the real villain in this story wasn't who she'd always assumed.
Shock didn't equate to approval.
Ethan Caldwell was spiraling out of control, and Grace couldn't stand by any longer. She stepped between them, her voice sharp with warning. "Ethan, Evelyn is Alexander’s wife now. Are you seriously begging her to take you back? If Alexander finds out, do you even care what happens to you?"
In the Whitmore family, Alexander’s word was law.
His authority was absolute. If he discovered Ethan was trying to claim what was his, the consequences wouldn’t just fall on Ethan—the entire Caldwell branch would pay the price.
Ethan’s expression twisted with conflicting emotions. Seizing the moment, Evelyn yanked her wrist free from his grasp.
"Grace, get your brother out of here," she said coldly.
"Evelyn, please!" Grace grabbed Ethan’s arm, positioning herself as a barrier between them. "Don’t tell Alexander about this. Ethan’s drunk—he’s not thinking straight. If Alexander finds out… you know what he’ll do. He’s already been destroyed by someone like Vanessa. He’s suffered enough. He’s a victim too."
Evelyn’s gaze darkened.
Grace’s plea hung in the air, desperate and raw. But Evelyn had heard enough excuses.
She turned away, her heart hardening.
Some wounds never healed.
And some mistakes couldn’t be forgiven.
Grace's voice trembled as she clutched Evelyn's arm.
"For the sake of what you once meant to Ethan, please let him go. I'm begging you, Evelyn! If Alexander finds him like this, he won't hesitate to break his legs!"
Evelyn's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze drifting toward Ethan's face.
His eyes were hollow, his expression blank—like a man who had lost everything.
She had never seen him like this before. The alcohol had dulled his senses, leaving him disoriented and barely coherent.
With a quiet sigh, Evelyn relented. Arguing with a drunk was pointless.
She turned away without another word and retreated inside the house, unaware of the shadowed figure watching from the darkness.
Alexander stood beneath the sprawling oak tree, its thick branches casting him in shifting patterns of moonlight.
Tall and imposing, his sharp eyes narrowed slightly in surprise.
Only when Grace finally managed to pull Ethan away did Alexander step forward, his footsteps silent as he approached the attic.
Inside, Evelyn had just settled onto the bed.
Then—the door creaked open.
Alexander stepped inside, his presence filling the room instantly.
The moment Alexander stepped inside, a cold aura surrounded him. Without uttering a single word, he loomed over Evelyn, pressing her down into the mattress.
His fingers slipped beneath the delicate fabric of her nightgown, gripping the collar tightly before tearing it apart in one sharp motion.
The sudden exposure of her bare skin made Evelyn gasp sharply. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest, her wide eyes locking onto his. "Alexander, what's happening?"
Her voice trembled, laced with confusion and a flicker of fear.
The air between them crackled with tension, heavy and unspoken. His darkened gaze bore into hers, unreadable yet intense.
She swallowed hard, her pulse racing beneath his unrelenting stare.
What had gotten into him?
And why did his touch send both panic and heat coursing through her veins?