Chapter 367

Evelyn tilted her head, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Hmm? Who can't see?"

Alexander's gaze darkened, his eyes briefly darting toward the window ledge. "No one."

Upstairs, Ethan Caldwell watched as Alexander and Evelyn vanished from sight. Rage burned through him, white-hot and consuming. His fist collided with the glass before him before he could stop himself.

The window exploded on impact. Shards rained down, embedding into his skin.

But Ethan barely registered the pain.

He knew Alexander had done this deliberately.

It was a calculated provocation.

The image of Alexander carrying Evelyn away seared into his mind. He could already picture what came next—intimacy, whispered words, touches meant only for each other.

It was unbearable.

Ethan dropped to his knees, fingers tangling in his hair as a raw, guttural scream tore from his throat.

Alexander's cruelty cut deeper than any blade. This wasn't just physical—it was psychological torture, designed to break him.

And it was working.

His vision swam red, blood dripping from his wounded hand onto the shattered glass below.

He was losing his mind.

The crash of breaking glass shattered the night's silence. Eleanor had just settled Vanessa down when she hurried to check on Ethan, worried about his persistent fever.

She never expected to find the room splattered with blood.

Her heart lurched. She rushed to his side.

"Ethan! What happened?"

The shattered window told her everything.

Tears streaked down his face. "I want Evelyn!"

Eleanor stiffened. Her pulse spiked as she quickly shut the door, terrified someone from the Whitmore family might hear.

"Have you lost your senses? Evelyn is married to Alexander! Ethan, you can't say things like this! Didn’t I already warn you?"

Ethan collapsed to the floor, his body limp, his eyes hollow—like a man who had nothing left.

Seeing his feverish state and the blood dripping from his hand, Eleanor reached to help him up.

But he shoved her away.

Without a word, he wrenched the door open and stormed out.

"Where do you think you're going in this state?" she called after him, panic rising.

The night swallowed him whole.

"Are you seriously this obsessed with Evelyn?"

Eleanor watched him with growing concern, more convinced than ever that Vanessa needed to stay by his side.

"Don’t you find this behavior humiliating? A man should focus on his ambitions, not lose himself over a woman. I’ve never seen anyone act like they’re dying for someone like this. Besides, you were the one who chose to marry Vanessa."

She frowned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "You must be delirious from the fever. You need to rest and calm down."

She grabbed a bottle of fever reducers from the medicine cabinet and set them on the nightstand. Then, she called for the housekeeper to clean up the broken glass scattered across the floor.

Worried Ethan might do something reckless, she snatched the key and locked the bedroom door from the outside. The way he looked right now—wild-eyed, desperate—made her fear he’d storm out and confront Alexander directly.

Ethan collapsed onto the bed, his chest hollow, his heart in shambles.

Alexander had pushed him past his breaking point.

The sheer ruthlessness of it stunned him. Not only had Alexander taken the woman he loved, but he’d done it in the cruelest way possible—twisting the knife deeper just to watch him bleed.

When he heard the lock click from the outside, Ethan let out a bitter laugh.

Even his own mother didn’t trust him anymore.

But what did it matter?

Evelyn was gone.

And Alexander had won.

No prison could contain him if he truly wished to escape.

His eyes flickered toward the shattered glass.

If Evelyn had the courage to leap, so did he.

Ethan Caldwell rose to his feet, his movements swift and decisive.

The night air was cool against his skin as he braced himself on the windowsill.

Without hesitation, he threw himself into the darkness.