Chapter 404

Ethan Caldwell gave a slow nod, his sharp eyes catching the shadows beneath Evelyn Carter's usually vibrant gaze.

It pained him to see her like this—trapped, diminished. The walls of Whitmore Manor seemed to close in on her more each day.

He knew music was her escape. The way her fingers danced across the cello strings spoke of a soul too fierce to be caged.

Ethan understood that passion. He played the piano himself, had performed at prestigious venues.

Their shared love for music created a bond Alexander Whitmore could never rival. A man raised on farmland, with calloused hands that had never touched an instrument.

Ethan smirked. He was the refined one, the cultured one. This concert could be his chance to remind Evelyn of that.

The symphony hall would be filled with elegance, with people who appreciated artistry. He wanted her to see him there, in his element, proving he belonged by her side.

When he finally relented and agreed to let her attend, the tension between them eased. The following days were lighter, almost peaceful.

Evelyn’s mood lifted visibly. She ate better, smiled more. The concert wasn’t just an event to her—it was hope. A glimpse of freedom.

And perhaps, if luck favored her, an opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

As the date drew nearer, Ethan watched her closely.

Too closely.

The night was deep and still when Evelyn Carter drifted into peaceful slumber, a faint smile gracing her lips as if she were dreaming of the liberation that lay ahead.

Outside, the world was cloaked in darkness, but Ethan Caldwell's stormy gaze burned with intensity as he watched her. His fingers traced the curve of her cheek, his voice barely audible. "Evelyn, do you truly wish to escape me so badly?"

Unaware in her dreams, Evelyn imagined herself breaking free, her heart light with the promise of freedom.

Stepping out of the room, Ethan was met by a bodyguard stationed in the living area. "Sir," the man reported, "surveillance has been secured around the concert venue as instructed. Ms. Hart won’t have the chance to meet anyone tomorrow."

A satisfied nod was Ethan’s only response. If he was allowing Evelyn this small taste of freedom, he would ensure she remained within his grasp.

For days now, while pretending to indulge in their time together, he had been orchestrating his plans in the shadows.

His next question was sharp. "What has my uncle been up to?"

Since shaking off Alexander Whitmore with Zachary Black’s assistance, the silence from that front had been unsettling. Ethan had expected Alexander to react immediately upon learning Evelyn was with him—yet his phone had remained eerily quiet.

"Reports indicate he’s currently on a business trip," the bodyguard answered. "He doesn’t appear concerned."

Ethan’s jaw tightened. That wasn’t like Alexander. Something was wrong.

He turned toward the window, the city lights flickering in the distance. If Alexander wasn’t making a move, then he was planning something—something Ethan needed to anticipate before it was too late.

His fingers curled into a fist.

Evelyn might dream of freedom, but he would never let her go. Not now. Not ever.

And if Alexander thought he could take her back, he was sorely mistaken.

Ethan's brow furrowed, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut.

Something wasn't right.

He had a strong suspicion Alexander was up to something. This sudden trip felt less like a genuine business matter and more like a carefully constructed diversion—a smokescreen to throw him off track.

"Monitor his movements closely. If he so much as steps near the opera house tomorrow, I need to know instantly."

The bodyguard gave a sharp nod, understanding the gravity of the command.

As midnight approached, Evelyn pressed herself against the door, holding her breath to catch every whispered word.

She had woken the second Ethan left her room, and the thought of tomorrow's escape plan sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.

An hour later, when the last light in Hawthorne Estate flickered out, she knew it was time.

Her pulse pounded as she slipped into Ethan’s bedroom, every nerve alight with fear and resolve.

Earlier, she had glimpsed him scrolling through emails on his phone—and more importantly, she had memorized Alexander’s number.

She needed to call for help.

Moving with painstaking care, she spotted the phone resting beside Ethan’s pillow, still tethered to its charger.

The air in the room was thick with tension.

Evelyn's fingers trembled as she reached for Alexander's phone.

This was her first time doing something like this, and the fear of waking him made her pulse race.

She held her breath, carefully lifting the device from the nightstand.

Just as she pulled the charging cable free, Alexander's eyes flew open in the dark.

The sudden intensity of his gaze pinned her in place.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions.

Then, his voice, rough with sleep, cut through the stillness.

"What are you doing, Evelyn?"

The question hung in the air like a blade.

She swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for an answer.

But the truth was far more dangerous than any lie she could conjure.

Because if he found out why she needed his phone, everything would unravel.

And she wasn't ready for that.

Not yet.

Not when she was so close to uncovering the truth.