Chapter 486

The bodyguard gave a curt nod before exiting with the velvet-lined box cradled in his gloved hands.

Evelyn remained alone on the penthouse terrace of the Grand Cresthaven Hotel, the night air cool against her skin.

Below her stretched the glittering heart of Cresthaven, its skyscrapers towering like sentinels around the hotel.

She rested her palms lightly on the railing, the metal chilled beneath her touch.

From this height, the city sprawled beneath her like a kingdom waiting to be claimed.

Cresthaven at night was breathtaking—a sea of golden lights shimmering against the dark canvas of the sky.

The distant hum of traffic wove through the air, headlights streaming like rivers of fire between the buildings.

Even at this late hour, the city pulsed with life—laughter and music drifting up from rooftop bars, the murmur of conversations carried by the wind.

Yet amid the vibrancy, Evelyn felt strangely hollow.

A quiet ache settled in her chest, sharp and unexpected.

Why this sudden heaviness?

The loneliness struck like a blade, swift and merciless, wrapping around her until she could barely breathe.

The memories of her childhood in the countryside flooded Evelyn’s mind unexpectedly.

Though Beatrice had never shown her much affection—preferring Damian above all—life had been simpler then.

Every morning, Beatrice would finish her chores on the farm, then disappear into the village’s gambling den by afternoon. Evelyn’s adoptive father had died young, and Damian was always absent, drifting from one odd job to another.

Left to her own devices, Evelyn grew accustomed to solitude.

By the time she turned one and could form words, she had already begun learning about medicinal herbs from the village doctor, Jonathan Blake, who lived next door.

Their rural home was surrounded by wild herbs of every kind.

Perhaps because of those early lessons, Evelyn could identify and name every herb by the age of six.

Time moved slowly in those days. By twelve, she had memorized human anatomy and started studying medicine under Jonathan’s guidance.

Her knowledge ran deep. So when Jonathan fell ill and couldn’t see patients, Evelyn stepped in, treating them with acupuncture.

Back then, healing even one person filled her with joy for days. That sense of purpose—of making a difference—was everything.

The sun had barely risen when Evelyn found herself flipping through medical journals again.

To her, these weren’t just textbooks—they were portals to another life, one where she wasn’t the forgotten daughter of the Hayes family.

Jonathan Blake had been her anchor in those early years.

He’d taught her to read using anatomy charts instead of fairy tales. His stories weren’t fantasies—they were gritty recollections of midnight emergencies and impossible diagnoses.

For a girl raised in shadows, his world glowed with purpose.

At fourteen, the Hayes family reclaimed her.

The mansion was grander. The meals were lavish. But the air tasted like loneliness.

Richard and Margaret Hayes tried, at first.

But Vanessa Hart knew how to twist affection like a knife.

A spider scuttling across the floor? Vanessa would shriek until Margaret cradled her.

A pimple before prom? Vanessa sobbed into Margaret’s silk blouse about ruined beauty.

Evelyn learned early: silent suffering earned no comfort.

She retreated. They forgot her.

By the time exclusive school cliques branded her an outsider, even her reflection felt like a stranger.

Then Ethan Caldwell kicked open a bathroom stall door.

His knuckles were split. The bullies scattered.

For two glorious years, he was her daylight—until he became her storm.

Now, Evelyn tilted her head back.

The city lights had murdered the stars.

Just like Vanessa had stolen her family.

Just like Ethan had shattered her trust.

Her phone buzzed. Alexander Whitmore’s name flashed.

Her thumb hovered.

The man who’d married her to atone for his brother’s sins.

The man who didn’t know she’d stopped believing in salvation.

Had Alexander also changed his heart?

The question haunted Evelyn like a persistent shadow.

She stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of their penthouse, watching the city lights flicker below. The skyline of Cresthaven stretched endlessly, a glittering testament to power and ambition—just like Alexander.

But was he still the same man she had fallen for?

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass. The deep red liquid swirled, mirroring the turmoil in her chest.

Memories flashed—his cold demeanor at Horizon Enterprises earlier, the way he had dismissed her suggestion with a single glance.

Was this the same man who had once whispered promises against her skin?

A knock at the door startled her.

"Evelyn?"

Alexander’s voice, low and smooth, sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

She didn’t turn.

The door opened, and his presence filled the room before he even stepped inside. She could feel him—his warmth, his scent, the weight of his gaze.

"You’ve been avoiding me."

His accusation was soft, but it carried an edge.

Evelyn finally turned, meeting his piercing blue eyes. "Have I?"

Alexander’s jaw tightened. He crossed the room in three strides, stopping just inches from her.

"Talk to me."

The command was gentle, but it wasn’t a request.

She exhaled sharply. "What’s there to say? You’ve made your priorities clear."

His brow furrowed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Galaxy Holdings. Titan Capital. Your meetings. Your deals." She gestured vaguely. "You’re everywhere except here."

Alexander’s expression darkened. "You think I don’t want to be here?"

"Do you?"

The challenge hung between them, thick and suffocating.

For a moment, silence reigned.

Then Alexander closed the distance, his hands framing her face. His touch was firm, possessive.

"Evelyn," he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. "You’re the only thing that matters."

Her heart stuttered.

But doubt lingered.

Had he changed?

Or had she?

The answer terrified her.