Chapter 381

Alexander Whitmore barely registered the buzzing of his phone.

Simon Graves noticed his dazed state and quickly guided him into the waiting car. "Mr. Whitmore, let's get you back to the hotel to rest."

"Fine." Alexander was too far gone to argue.

The next morning, the throbbing in his temples announced his hangover before he even opened his eyes.

He dragged himself upright and reached for a glass of water. As the cool liquid soothed his throat, a nagging thought surfaced—something important had slipped his mind.

His phone.

Fumbling for it, he vaguely recalled a call last night, one that had ended abruptly.

The name on the screen sent a jolt through him—the bodyguard assigned to protect Evelyn Carter.

Alexander hit redial immediately.

The line connected at once. The bodyguard relayed everything he'd overheard the previous night.

Alexander's expression darkened with each word.

His grip tightened unconsciously. The glass in his hand shattered under the pressure, shards biting into his palm.

Blood welled up, dripping steadily onto the floor.

The crimson droplets splattered across the marble floor.

"Mr. Whitmore, are you alright?" Simon's voice trembled as he reached for the phone. "I'll call for medical assistance immediately."

"Don't." Alexander's tone was razor-sharp. "Book the next flight back to Cresthaven."

Simon froze. "But sir, the meeting with the Aetherland delegates—they've already arrived at the conference center. This deal is crucial for Titan Capital's expansion—"

Alexander's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the shattered glass in his palm. "Did I stutter?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Get me on that plane."

Simon swallowed hard.

This wasn't like Alexander. The man was legendary for his ruthless professionalism. The Aetherland negotiation had been in the works for eighteen months—a make-or-break opportunity to secure Titan Capital's foothold in the European markets.

To abandon it now? Unthinkable.

Yet the blood dripping onto Alexander's custom Tom Ford oxfords told a different story. Something had shattered his legendary composure.

And Simon knew better than to ask twice.

Punctuality was sacred in international business. One missed meeting could mean losing a potential partner forever.

Alexander Whitmore wasn’t the type to act impulsively, yet Simon Graves sensed something dire must have occurred to make him abandon negotiations mid-session.

He booked the first flight back to Cresthaven without hesitation.

Seated in the cabin, Alexander scrolled through his call log. Evelyn Carter had tried reaching him relentlessly yesterday, but he’d ignored every attempt in his fury.

A faint smile touched his lips. She’d been worried enough to contact Simon behind his back.

At least someone still cared.

He’d orchestrated everything perfectly—a grand homecoming surprise for Evelyn after his business trip. The Griffore souvenir in his carry-on was just the beginning.

But fate had other plans.

During the ride to the airport, he’d dialed Evelyn’s number. The line connected, yet silence answered.

A cold dread slithered down his spine. Had she truly walked away?

Her midnight meeting with Ethan Caldwell haunted him. What secrets had they exchanged?

Alexander would be furious if he knew.

Ethan Caldwell was making his move while Alexander was away.

The realization hit Evelyn like a cold splash of water.

She had been too trusting. Too naive.

All those times she had defended Ethan, believing there was still good in him—what a fool she had been.

Now, he was circling like a vulture, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Her fingers tightened around her phone.

She should call Alexander. Warn him.

But pride held her back.

She had handled worse. She could handle Ethan.

The city of Cresthaven stretched before her, its glittering skyline a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her.

Ethan had crossed a line.

And Evelyn wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

Secret Longing: A Love Reborn from Ashes (Evelyn)

The game had just begun.