Chapter 320

Nathan's mocking laughter filled the air. "You're the one who betrayed her first, Ethan. You married Vanessa, so you're the one who's tainted! How dare you make such ridiculous demands? Does Alexander know you're trying to steal his wife? Alexander is your uncle. You’ve got some nerve, going after his wife!"

Nathan's words seemed to bounce off Ethan. His gaze remained locked on Evelyn, unshaken. He couldn’t believe that after seven years together, she could just walk away. How could two people who had grown up side by side forget everything they once shared?

If Evelyn truly didn’t care, why had she warned him when that knife came flying toward him? Ethan was certain—she still felt something for him.

"Ethan," Evelyn said firmly, "I’m not going back to you. If you refuse to testify, I’ll find another way." She turned to Nathan. "Let’s go home."

Ethan lunged forward, seizing her wrist. "Evelyn, how long are you going to stay angry? I’ve already humbled myself. Isn’t that enough? Fine, if you need to hit me, go ahead." He tried to force her hand against his face.

Evelyn instinctively recoiled, but before she could pull away, a cold voice cut through the tension.

"Ethan," Alexander said from the doorway, his voice like ice, "take your hand off her."

He strode in, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked onto Ethan with a chilling intensity that made the air itself feel heavier.

Alexander reached them in three long strides, immediately wrapping Evelyn in a protective embrace. His voice was a blade of ice. "You dare lay hands on my wife? Ethan, are you tired of living?" The fury in his eyes could have scorched the earth.

Ethan hadn't anticipated Alexander's sudden appearance. Shock flickered across his face before his expression darkened. "Uncle Alex, I—"

The words died in his throat as Alexander's fist connected with his jaw.

Blood bloomed at the corner of Ethan's mouth. He rolled his tongue against his split lip, spitting crimson onto the pavement.

Oliver, watching from the sidelines, whistled low. "Damn, that was a knockout punch! Textbook perfect!"

Whether provoked by the taunt or his own wounded pride, Ethan retaliated with a wild swing.

Alexander reacted instantly—twisting his body to shield Evelyn while his free hand shot out with lethal precision.

Ethan was no amateur, but he was hopelessly outmatched against a man who had spent years training in combat. Alexander caught Ethan's wrist mid-air, twisted it behind his back with brutal efficiency, and slammed him face-first into the ground.

Oliver clapped, grinning. "This is better than an action flick! Alex, you’ve got to teach me that move. I’d be unstoppable!"

Ethan groaned against the pavement, his breath ragged.

Alexander didn’t loosen his grip. His voice was dangerously quiet. "If you ever come near Evelyn again, I won’t stop at a warning."

The threat hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

Evelyn's glare burned into Oliver, her thoughts sharp as knives. He's deliberately stirring the pot.

Under her withering gaze, Oliver shrank back, licking his lips nervously before falling silent like a scolded child.

Ethan Caldwell's eyes were bloodshot. In his earlier fury, he had slammed Damian Cross against the table, only to injure himself in the process.

Now, with Alexander Whitmore twisting his already wounded wrist, it felt like his bones were being crushed to dust.

Alexander's expression was ice-cold. "Admit you were wrong."

Ethan clenched his jaw, refusing to speak.

Alexander tightened his grip, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Lost your voice? Answer me."