Chapter 37

The bottle shattered against the table's edge with a deafening crack, red liquid splattering like blood across the floor.

Evelyn gripped the jagged neck of the broken glass, her knuckles white as she swung it toward Ethan's outstretched hand.

"Get your filthy hands off me!"

Ethan froze, his expression twisting between disbelief and fury. "Filthy?"

"Did I stutter?" Her voice trembled with seven years of pent-up rage. "I was loyal to you—obsessed—until you betrayed me with Vanessa and sent me to rot in prison. That was the day you lost me forever."

Shards glittered on the ground, mingling with droplets of crimson.

She didn’t care whose blood it was.

The realization hit me like a storm.

"How could I have ever loved you?" My voice was ice, sharper than the broken glass at our feet. "What’s wrong, Ethan? Can’t handle hearing the truth?"

A cruel smirk curled my lips as I raised the jagged bottle again, my grip tightening. His hand was still within reach.

"Congratulations, Ethan! You finally get to marry Vanessa!"

My laugh was bitter, hollow. "And yet here you are, clinging to my hand. Shouldn’t you be worried your precious Vanessa might see?"

With one final, brutal swing, I brought the bottle down.

The glass shattered completely, scattering like diamonds across the floor.

I tossed the broken neck aside, my gaze flickering to the blood seeping from Ethan’s arm.

It should have made me hesitate.

It didn’t.

Just then, Claire rushed forward, her face pale with panic as she grabbed my wrists, checking for injuries.

My skin was streaked with crimson, stark against the porcelain paleness of my arms. The chaos around us only heightened the tension.

But after a quick inspection, Claire exhaled sharply—no wounds on me.

Relief flickered in her eyes—until a new sound cut through the air.

The wail of police sirens shattered the night as officers stormed into Eclipse Lounge.

Someone had tipped them off discreetly.

Ethan Caldwell's affluent friends rushed to his side, their voices laced with panic. "Mr. Caldwell! Are you hurt?"

No one had anticipated the situation would spiral this far.

Ethan remained silent, his face drained of color.

Evelyn Carter's strike had left a deep gash on his arm, crimson staining his sleeve.

One of his friends barked, "The ambulance is outside! Let's get you to the hospital!"

Ethan gave a stiff nod, his gaze lingering on Evelyn with an unreadable expression before he was ushered away.

Evelyn didn't react, her eyes fixed straight ahead, too repulsed to grant him another glance.

At the precinct, Evelyn sat in the interrogation room, her clothes smeared with blood.

Her face was ghostly pale, her slender frame curled inward, silence wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud.

Beside her, Claire Dawson's expression was tight with worry. "Evelyn, are you—"

The door creaked open, cutting her off.

A detective stepped in, his tone clipped. "Miss Carter, we need your statement."

Evelyn exhaled slowly, her fingers trembling slightly before she clenched them into fists.

She wasn't afraid.

She was furious.

And she wasn't backing down.

The night air bit into Evelyn's bare arms as she rushed toward the police station. She'd moved so fast that she'd forgotten her coat, leaving her shivering in just a thin tank dress.

Claire, keeping pace beside her, shot her a worried glance. "You're freezing," she murmured.

Evelyn forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just a little cold."

Claire's eyes widened. She was only in a light blouse herself—if she'd had a jacket, she would have given it to Evelyn in a heartbeat.

"You were incredible back there," Claire said, her voice tinged with awe. "The way you hit Ethan—I've never seen anything like it. He looked like he'd seen a ghost when he left."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. She hadn't meant for things to escalate like that.

She hadn't expected Ethan to keep coming at her even after she smashed the bottle.

A bitter thought crossed her mind: What is he playing at now?

Back when she used to trail after him like a lovesick fool, he'd barely spared her a glance. She had been invisible to him.

And yet, just yesterday, he'd held a press conference announcing—

Vanessa Hart as his fiancée.

"We're over—why is he still lurking around?"

The officers approached, their expressions unreadable. "Ms. Hart," one said, "we've reviewed the security footage. It's clear you acted in self-defense, so no charges will be pressed. However, bail must still be posted."

Claire Dawson immediately stepped forward. "Can I do it?"

The officer shook his head. "Only a family member can handle that."

Claire clenched her fists, frustration flashing in her eyes.

Evelyn Carter exhaled sharply.

This wasn't over.