Chapter 474

Evelyn froze. Isabella?

She hesitated briefly before forcing a casual tone. "Is the Whitmore family here tonight?"

The attendant nodded enthusiastically. "You mean Mr. Alexander Whitmore? He arrived with his wife."

Evelyn's breath hitched. "His wife?"

Unaware of Evelyn's connection, the attendant beamed. "Yes, Mrs. Whitmore is absolutely stunning—impossible to miss in a crowd."

Evelyn inhaled sharply, her chest tightening. The edges of her vision blurred slightly. She spun around, scanning the glittering ballroom for Alexander.

Then she felt it—the weight of someone's stare.

She turned.

Ethan.

She didn’t know how long he’d been watching her. Dressed in an ivory suit that made him stand out, he looked paler than usual, the lingering effects of his illness softening his sharp features into something almost delicate.

Their gazes locked. The second Ethan saw her, his expression shifted—raw admiration flashing in his eyes.

She was radiant.

And he couldn’t look away.

Ethan turned his head, murmuring something to the person beside him before striding toward Evelyn.

His voice was low, laced with warning. "Honestly, you shouldn’t have come tonight."

He stopped in front of her, his gaze unreadable. "Evelyn, you can still walk away. I don’t want to see you hurt."

Confusion flickered across her face. "What do you mean?"

A cold smirk curved his lips. "You want to know? Then let me show you."

Before she could react, his fingers closed around her wrist.

Evelyn stiffened, instinctively trying to pull away.

But the delicate straps of her heels and the restrictive silk of her gown made movement difficult. Before she could break free, he had already dragged her onto the dance floor.

The grand ballroom was a vision of old-world elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light like scattered diamonds across the room.

Multicolored spotlights danced across the walls, blending with the sea of crimson rose petals strewn across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of roses and expensive perfume.

Then her breath caught.

At the center of it all stood a man in a tailored black suit.

Alexander.

Her pulse stuttered.

His presence commanded the room, his sharp features illuminated by the golden glow.

And his eyes—dark, intense—were already locked onto hers.

The silk fabric of her dress clung to most of her bare back as they swayed across the polished dance floor.

Under the glittering chandeliers, Alexander Whitmore and Isabella Morgan moved in perfect harmony, their figures creating a breathtaking vision.

Every eye in the ballroom was drawn to them—the striking man with his commanding presence and the radiant woman who matched him step for step.

Their gazes locked, shutting out the world around them.

Evelyn Carter felt her breath catch.

Isabella.

There was no mistaking her. The realization settled heavily in Evelyn's chest, leaving behind a hollow ache she couldn't ignore.

Alexander's first love had returned.

The way he looked at Isabella—completely absorbed, utterly captivated—told Evelyn everything. They had met in his office earlier that day, and now, mere hours later, he had brought her to this gala without hesitation.

Isabella had transformed since their daytime encounter. Gone was the simple elegance of her casual attire. Now, she was a vision in an intricately beaded gown, vibrant as a blood-red rose in full bloom.

It was astonishing how one woman could embody such contrasting allure—demure by daylight, dazzling by night.

Evelyn's fingers tightened around her champagne flute.

She had believed what she shared with Alexander was special. He had been everything she'd ever wanted in a partner—strong, devoted, passionate.

But seeing him now, his attention wholly consumed by another, made her question everything.

The scars of past heartbreaks had taught Evelyn Carter to guard her heart fiercely. Yet against all odds, she had willingly given it to Alexander Whitmore.

His unwavering care and quiet devotion had slowly chipped away at her defenses. What had begun as a marriage of convenience—a safe harbor in her storm—had become something far deeper.

Day by day, moment by moment, Alexander had woven himself into the fabric of her life.

She loved him.

She loved the way he anticipated her needs before she voiced them. She loved the steady certainty of his presence, the way the world felt simpler when he was near. With Alexander, she could breathe. He carried the weight so she didn’t have to.

But now, as she cradled the life growing inside her, doubt crept in.

Had his heart changed?

The man who had been her anchor—was he slipping away?