Chapter 490

The car sped through the night streets, its tires screeching against the pavement.

Alexander pulled back the coat draped over Evelyn's shoulders, revealing her pale face. Blood streamed from her nose and mouth, staining the tissues pressed against her skin.

His crisp white shirt was now splattered with crimson.

His jaw tightened. "Simon," he ordered, voice sharp. "Faster."

Simon didn't hesitate. The engine roared as he slammed the accelerator, weaving through traffic and ignoring the blaring horns of cars they left behind.

Alexander checked his watch. Past eleven.

Vanessa had vanished from the auction without a word. He wondered if she had made it home safely.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed her number—only to be met with silence. The line was dead.

Evelyn's condition was worsening. He'd be at the hospital all night.

"Maybe she's already asleep," he muttered, though unease prickled at the back of his mind.

The city lights blurred past as the car raced toward the emergency room.

The phone rang twice before a staff member at the estate picked up.

"Has Evelyn come back yet?"

"No, Mr. Whitmore. The lights in your suite are still off."

Alexander frowned. Maybe she went to our penthouse instead?

He dialed the staff at their city residence, only to receive the same answer.

Evelyn hadn’t returned there either.

Where could she be at this hour?

A knot of unease twisted in his chest. Though Cresthaven was generally safe after dark, the thought of her alone out there unsettled him.

"Simon, once we reach the hospital, stay with Isabella for her tests. Update me the second you hear anything."

Simon gave a firm nod. "Understood, sir."

Isabella’s face paled. "Alexander… you’re not staying with me?"

He exhaled sharply. "It’s late. I should head back—Evelyn will be concerned if I’m not home."

The words lodged in her throat like shards of glass. She opened her mouth to protest, but the car had already pulled up to the emergency entrance.

A medical team rushed forward with a stretcher, their movements swift and practiced.

The night air was thick with tension as Evelyn Carter stood frozen in the dimly lit hallway of Hawthorne Estate. Her fingers trembled around the envelope she had just discovered tucked beneath the antique vase—the same vase her stepmother, Vanessa Hart, had always adored.

A cold draft swept through the corridor, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She shouldn’t be here.

Not after everything that had happened.

But the moment she had seen Alexander Whitmore’s name scrawled across the envelope in that unmistakable, jagged handwriting, she knew she couldn’t walk away.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she carefully peeled back the seal.

Inside was a single photograph.

Her breath hitched.

It was a picture of her and Alexander, taken years ago at Maple Leaf Café. The edges were slightly singed, as if someone had held it too close to a flame before changing their mind.

But that wasn’t what made her blood run cold.

Scrawled across the back in red ink were three words:

"I remember everything."

A sharp gasp escaped her lips.

This wasn’t just a message.

It was a threat.

And it could only mean one thing—Ethan Caldwell was back.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall snapped her back to reality.

She shoved the photograph into her pocket just as Vanessa’s voice cut through the silence.

"Evelyn? What are you doing here?"

Her stepmother’s sharp eyes flickered to the vase, then back to her.

Evelyn forced a smile. "Just… reminiscing."

Vanessa’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Funny. I didn’t take you for the sentimental type."

Before Evelyn could respond, her phone buzzed.

A text from Alexander:

"We need to talk. Now."

Her stomach twisted.

Whatever was coming, it was already in motion.

And this time, there was no running from it.

Simon handed the car keys to Alexander. Without hesitation, Alexander slid into the driver's seat and sped away from the hospital, his expression unreadable.

In the backseat of a cab, Evelyn recounted everything to Claire, her voice trembling.

"Are you serious? Alexander actually gave her that bracelet?"

Evelyn's eyes were swollen, her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. Six months of marriage had made her vulnerable—she had genuinely fallen for him.

Claire's face darkened as guilt gnawed at her.

If she hadn’t asked Evelyn to purchase that bracelet, none of this would have happened. Then again, maybe it was better this way—exposing Alexander’s betrayal early could save Evelyn from deeper heartbreak.

Yet something didn’t add up.

"Who is Isabella, really? Some childhood sweetheart? Alexander… he’s always been so careful. This isn’t like him."

Alexander had never been reckless. His reputation was spotless—until now.

The photograph of Isabella stared back at me from Alexander's wallet.

They had waltzed together under the chandeliers tonight.

He had slipped that diamond bracelet onto her wrist.

And then he had carried her out of the hotel in his arms.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the edge of the vanity. "Tell me, Claire—what part of this is a misunderstanding?"

Vanessa exhaled sharply, her reflection meeting mine in the mirror.

"Evelyn, listen to me. I finally understand now." Her voice was steel wrapped in silk. "Love is just... smoke. It slips through your fingers when you try to hold it. My career—that's real. That's mine."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Should I ask Lucas about Isabella, then? Would that make it clearer?"

The silence between us bled like an open wound.

Outside, midnight pressed against the windows, heavy with unspoken truths.