Chapter 293

Evelyn's fingers trembled slightly as she grasped the acupuncture needles. Taking a steadying breath, she carefully probed Alexander's body, searching for the precise points before inserting them.

Each insertion was deliberate, her gaze locked onto his face for any sign of discomfort. Only when she was certain he felt no pain did she allow herself to relax.

To her astonishment, the bleeding from Alexander's wound began to slow.

"You see?" Alexander murmured, his dark eyes fixed on her. "You're doing perfectly. The bleeding is stopping."

Evelyn exhaled shakily and nodded. With gentle hands, she cleaned the blood from his skin, disinfecting the wound with meticulous care. Once satisfied the bleeding had ceased, she carefully withdrew the needles.

"We should wrap it now," Alexander said softly.

Evelyn hesitated, clutching the roll of bandages, her fingers hovering uncertainly near his waist.

A faint, amused smile tugged at Alexander's lips.

Without a word, he took the bandages from her and began winding them around his torso himself.

Tears shimmered in Evelyn's eyes once more.

Alexander’s hands moved with practiced precision, a clear sign he was no stranger to tending wounds.

When he finished, Evelyn immediately seized his hand and buried herself against his chest.

"Alexander, I swear I'll never let you down again..."

A soft chuckle escaped him as he carded his fingers through her hair. "What brought this on? Feeling guilty?"

She nodded, her heart aching.

This man has endured so much cruelty from the world. How could the Whitmore family abandon him as an infant in that desolate village and never look back?

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Vanessa sat frozen on the examination bed, her face drained of color.

The doctor’s words echoed in her mind like a thunderclap—she was pregnant.

When she first married Ethan, Vanessa had desperately wanted a child to secure her place in the Caldwell family.

Eleanor despised her. The Whitmores barely acknowledged her existence. But a baby could change everything.

Yet now, the timing couldn’t be worse.

Her fingers trembled as they pressed against her stomach.

What am I going to do?

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the hospital window, casting golden patterns on the sterile white sheets. Vanessa Hart lay perfectly still, her fingers trembling as they brushed over her still-flat abdomen.

A boy.

If she carried a son, he would be the firstborn grandson of the Caldwell lineage—a position of undeniable prestige.

Harold Caldwell would finally look at her with approval. Even Eleanor, with her sharp tongue and colder demeanor, would have no choice but to acknowledge her.

This child could change everything.

Vanessa exhaled shakily, her mind racing.

Ethan Caldwell had been distant since their rushed marriage, barely touching her. That night in the car had been impulsive, fueled by frustration and desperation.

She had been furious when he whispered Evelyn's name instead of hers.

Now?

Now she could almost laugh at the irony. That moment of humiliation had given her the one thing she needed most.

The doctor’s words echoed in her mind. "The embryo's implantation is unstable. You need complete bed rest for observation."

She had bled so much she’d been terrified.

But now?

Now she cradled the knowledge like a secret weapon.

The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand. His expression was unreadable.

"The situation isn’t ideal," he said carefully. "We’ll have to see how—"

Vanessa’s grip tightened on the sheets.

She wouldn’t lose this.

Not when it was her only chance.