Chapter 634
Evelyn shook her head slowly, but then Isabella's piercing cry shattered the tense silence.
"Alexander! It hurts so much! My face—I think it's ruined!"
Alexander's gaze snapped to Isabella, his breath catching at the sight before him.
Blood pooled on the marble floor, its source unclear, but the vivid crimson stain was enough to make his stomach twist.
"Alexander, what did I do to deserve this? She just attacked me out of nowhere! Am I—am I going to die?" Isabella's voice trembled, her sobs punctuated by sharp gasps as she gestured dramatically at her injuries. Alexander's eyes locked onto the angry red mark blooming across her cheek.
His mind reeled. Evelyn did this?
He shot Evelyn a quick, disbelieving glance.
She had always been so composed, so gentle. The idea of her lashing out violently was foreign to him.
But Isabella's hysterics left no room for hesitation.
"Alexander, I swear I didn't provoke her! She just lunged at me!"
Isabella's wails crescendoed, fresh tears streaking down her face as another rivulet of blood trickled from her temple.
Evelyn, who had been observing the scene from the staircase, finally pieced it together.
So this is her game. Playing the victim to frame me.
Descending the steps, Evelyn demanded, "She just showed up uninvited, claiming you told her she could stay here—in our bed. Is that true?" Her voice was sharp with disbelief. She trusted Alexander, but the doubt gnawed at her.
How else would Isabella have gotten into their home?
Unless...
Her thoughts raced. "If you didn't give her the code, how did she even get inside?"
She needed answers, and she wasn't backing down.
Alexander glanced at Isabella, whose guilty flinch didn't escape him.
She clutched her head, whimpering, "Alexander, are you really going to let me bleed out right here?"
His attention snapped back to her.
Her face was ghostly pale, her lips nearly colorless.
He couldn't just stand there. "I'm calling an ambulance. You need medical attention."
Isabella exhaled in relief, but Evelyn pressed forward. "Did you give her our security code? Were you seriously planning to let her move in?"
Alexander opened his mouth, but Isabella cut in.
"The ambulance will take forever! Alexander, please just drive me yourself. I can't wait!"
She shot Evelyn a venomous look, her voice dripping with false innocence.
"You're so cruel! All I did was disagree with you, and you shoved me! You're delaying me on purpose—you want me to suffer!"
Evelyn didn't bother defending herself. The audacity of Isabella's performance left her speechless.
Alexander's frown deepened at Evelyn's silence. Did she really push her?
"Evelyn, just stay here. I'll be back soon."
With that, he scooped Isabella into his arms and rushed out the door.
Watching them leave, Evelyn felt a storm of emotions churning inside her.
She had planned a quiet evening for them. How had it spiraled into this?
Her stomach heavy, she mechanically grabbed a mop and began cleaning the mess—water, blood, the remnants of Isabella's theatrics.
Then she spotted it.
A small, half-hidden plastic bag in the corner.
Inside—blood.
Fake blood.
Evelyn's breath hitched.
So that's how she did it.
No wonder the blood had looked so excessive. It was all staged.
And Alexander fell for it.
She tossed the mop aside, a bitter laugh escaping her.
Why am I cleaning up this mess when I'm the one pregnant?
The thought of Isabella in their home—let alone their bed—made her nauseous.
As if sensing her distress, the baby kicked softly.
Evelyn cradled her stomach, then deliberately placed the blood bag where Alexander couldn't miss it.
She packed a small bag and walked out without looking back.
At the hospital, Isabella emerged from the ER, and Alexander paced the hallway.
The nurse called for family multiple times before he snapped back to reality.
He'd tried calling Evelyn—no answer.
Had she blocked him?
Is she really that angry?
But what was he supposed to do? Ignore Isabella bleeding on their floor?
All signs pointed to a fight between them, and he'd had to step in.
"How is she?" he asked the doctor.
"Severe head trauma. Possible concussion. She claims her vision is blurring—there's a risk of permanent damage."
Alexander glanced at Isabella, who lay still, eyes closed, the picture of fragile innocence.
As the nurse wheeled her away, he called Simon to take over.
Simon had just finished his shift and was in the middle of a very promising evening with his girlfriend.
When Alexander's name flashed on his screen, he groaned.
Not this again.
Hanging up, he muttered, "Damn it. When will this woman quit?"
His girlfriend traced his muscles with a pout. "What's wrong?"
Simon yanked his shirt back on. "Some gold-digger tried to crawl into my boss's bed and ended up in the hospital. Now I have to babysit her while he smooths things over with his wife."
She wrapped her arms around him. "Can't you just ignore it?"
Simon kissed her forehead. "Gotta keep the paycheck coming, babe. Just wait—soon, we'll have that house in Cresthaven."
Reluctantly, she let him go, glaring at the door as he left.
When Alexander finally returned home, the house was dark.
No Evelyn.
He called Lucas immediately. "Where's Claire?"
"Why do you care about Claire?" Lucas's voice was sharp.
"Is Evelyn with her?"
A pause. Then, "What's going on? Lose your wife? Well, Claire's been with me all day."
Claire had been handling their daughter's things—no contact with Evelyn.
Alexander's chest tightened.
Where was she?