Chapter 427
Ethan stood with his shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt pressing down on him.
Vanessa clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned bone-white.
She had remained confined to the estate throughout her pregnancy, yet Ethan had deliberately kept his distance, refusing to even glance her way.
Something had shifted between them—Vanessa could sense it the moment she saw him standing beside Evelyn.
Her eyes burned with resentment as she glared at the other woman.
Why does Evelyn always get everything I desire?
She’s already married to Alexander. What more could she possibly want? And yet, she still dares to ensnare Ethan!
Now that Evelyn was accusing Ethan of treachery, Vanessa saw her opportunity to reclaim him.
"Evelyn, you’re seriously claiming Ethan conspired against Alexander? They’re both Whitmores! Why would he ever betray his own family? I refuse to believe my husband would do such a thing!"
Harold slammed his cane against the marble floor, and the room instantly stilled.
"The Whitmore family has strict principles. We do not tolerate deceit or betrayal."
If any member dared collude with outsiders to harm their own blood, the consequences would be severe.
Vincent quickly stepped forward. "Father, I think—"
"I asked your son, not you. Silence!" Harold snapped.
Eleanor shot Ethan a frantic look, silently begging him to stay quiet.
Meanwhile, Sophia, who had been observing from the shadows, smirked and added, "Ethan, your grandfather has always favored you. Just tell him the truth. He’ll understand."
She relished the tension, knowing this conflict wouldn’t touch her own family.
Ethan hesitated, torn between his mother’s pleading gaze and the woman he still loved. His jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
Eleanor seized the moment. "Harold, what is there for Ethan to say? Look at him—he’s injured! If he were truly working with criminals, would they have harmed him this badly? No accomplice would be treated like this."
Her reasoning sounded plausible, but Harold’s expression darkened.
"So you’re suggesting Evelyn is lying?"
Evelyn faced Eleanor, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "Those words never left my mouth. I simply believe Ethan is being falsely accused. I can't fathom what others are thinking."
Though she hadn't directly called Eleanor a liar, every syllable dripped with accusation, as if the older woman had spun the entire tale from thin air.
Evelyn found it almost laughable. She had nearly become Eleanor’s daughter-in-law once. Thank heavens she’d come to her senses in time. The thought of being bound to this family now made her skin crawl.
Harold observed the exchange with icy detachment. His instincts screamed that something was off.
He couldn’t say for certain whether Ethan was involved with the criminal, but one thing was glaringly obvious—Ethan still carried a torch for Evelyn.
From the moment Evelyn had stepped into the room, Ethan’s gaze had been glued to her, unwavering.
That kind of raw, unguarded longing wasn’t something one could fake.
What’s more, Vincent and Eleanor danced around certain topics with practiced ease. Whenever Ethan should have spoken, they jumped in, desperate to muzzle him.
Harold had already connected the dots.
He knew young men, fueled by reckless impulses, were capable of unspeakable things.
Ethan had clearly crossed a line—one that couldn’t be uncrossed.
If things had spiraled to the point where they’d dragged Alexander into this mess, whatever Ethan had done must have been beyond redemption.
Harold said nothing.
Ethan was a Caldwell—his own grandson, the boy he’d watched grow from a child into a man. The bond between them ran deeper than anything Evelyn could ever hope to challenge.
After a long, heavy silence, Harold kept his thoughts to himself.
The Caldwells were sharp. The moment they noticed Harold’s silence, they knew exactly where his loyalty lay.