Chapter 421

Alexander's stern expression softened slightly.

His fingers traced the shallow cut on Evelyn's palm where the porcelain had nicked her skin. "Does it still hurt?"

Evelyn shook her head quickly. "It stopped stinging ages ago. I was too busy worrying about you. I drove here at nearly 200 mph, terrified I wouldn’t make it in time before Zachary got to you."

A low chuckle escaped Alexander’s lips. "Zachary’s still a rookie if he thinks he can outmaneuver me."

Back in his military training days, he’d topped every combat simulation. His reflexes were razor-sharp, and in close-quarters combat? He’d never lost a single match.

Without another word, Alexander swept Evelyn into his arms and carried her to the car, speeding straight to the nearest hospital.

The moment they arrived, he shocked everyone by lifting her from the passenger seat himself.

All eyes in the emergency room snapped to them as Alexander strode through the doors, Evelyn cradled against his chest.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

It was just a minor cut, for heaven’s sake. Yet Alexander refused to let her so much as graze the floor with her shoes.

The moment Alexander stepped into the clinic, Dr. Victoria Sinclair's face brightened with recognition.

But her smile faltered when she noticed the woman cradled in his arms.

"Alexander," she said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her tone professional yet tinged with curiosity. "Is this... your wife?" The doctor's sleek ponytail and crisp white coat gave her an air of quiet authority. "You never mentioned her before."

Alexander's grip on Evelyn tightened slightly. "Yes. This is Evelyn Carter, my wife." His voice carried an edge of urgency. "She injured her hand. Please examine it immediately."

Victoria nodded, snapping on a pair of gloves before approaching. She took Evelyn's hand gently, inspecting the wound with practiced precision. "This looks like it was caused by something sharp. A knife, perhaps?"

Evelyn's gaze flickered to the doctor's name tag.

[Dr. Victoria Sinclair, Chief of Surgery.]

"A piece of broken porcelain," Evelyn murmured.

Victoria offered a reassuring smile. "It's superficial. I'll prescribe an ointment—apply it twice daily, and it should heal without issue." She turned back to her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as she typed up the prescription.

Then, with a light laugh, she glanced at Alexander. "But really, for something this minor, you carried her in here like it was an emergency. Did she twist her ankle too?"

Alexander's jaw tightened.

Evelyn felt the tension radiating from him.

Victoria's smile didn't waver, but something unspoken passed between them—a history Evelyn wasn't privy to.

The air in the room grew heavier.

Evelyn shifted, suddenly aware of how close Alexander held her, his heartbeat steady against her side.

Victoria finished typing and handed the prescription to Alexander. "There. All set."

He took it without a word.

Then, as if remembering himself, he exhaled. "Thank you, Victoria."

The doctor's smile softened, just slightly. "Anytime."

Evelyn watched the exchange, a quiet unease settling in her chest.

Something told her this wasn’t just about a cut on her hand.

His fingers tightened around the phone. Alexander flashed an apologetic glance at Victoria before stepping out of the exam room to answer the call.

Evelyn tilted her head. "It's just a scratch, really."

Victoria's gaze lingered on Evelyn's face, sharp and assessing. "Back at the academy, Alexander wouldn't have blinked at something this minor. Women these days are so... fragile. If you wait any longer, it might heal before you even get treated."

Evelyn stiffened. Is she mocking me?

Does she think I'm exaggerating?

And from the sound of it, she's known Alexander for years.

Meeting Victoria's stare head-on, Evelyn smiled sweetly. "What can I say, Dr. Sinclair? My husband can't bear to see me in pain. Even the smallest mark makes him panic. He insisted on dragging me here. Maybe you could tell him to stop fussing over me?"

Victoria's lips parted slightly, clearly caught off guard by the gentle-looking woman's sharp retort.

A slow smirk curled her lips. "My, Ms. Carter. You've got quite the bite."

Evelyn nodded, unfazed. "Alexander and I are married. We balance each other out."

Just then, the door swung open—Alexander returned, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"What exactly do you mean by complementary?"

"Darling, it's obvious," Evelyn purred, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. She threaded her fingers through Alexander's arm, resting her cheek against his broad shoulder. "We're two halves of a perfect whole, aren't we, my love?"

Her emerald eyes glittered with playful curiosity as she turned toward the unfamiliar woman. "Sweetheart, you've been terribly rude not introducing us. Who is this Dr. Sinclair?"

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as Evelyn's manicured nails absently traced patterns on Alexander's sleeve. She could feel the subtle stiffening of his muscles beneath her touch, a telltale sign she'd learned to read over years of marriage.

Across from them, Victoria Sinclair adjusted her designer glasses with practiced elegance. The diamond pendant at her throat caught the afternoon light, scattering prismatic dots across the clinic's sterile walls.

Alexander cleared his throat, his usual commanding presence momentarily unsettled. "Dr. Sinclair is the new head of neurosurgery at Cresthaven General," he explained, his baritone voice carefully neutral.

Evelyn's smile didn't waver, though her grip tightened imperceptibly. "How fascinating," she murmured, tilting her head like a curious feline. "And how exactly do you two know each other?"

The loaded question hung in the antiseptic-scented air as three heartbeats synchronized in the tense silence. Somewhere down the hall, a monitor beeped relentlessly, counting seconds like a bomb waiting to detonate.