Chapter 641

The crisp autumn air carried a faint medicinal scent through the hospital courtyard. Evelyn Carter tightened her cashmere scarf against the chill, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air.

"What could Dominic possibly have on Isabella?" The question gnawed at Evelyn's mind like a persistent insect.

She studied Dominic Powell's face carefully. Despite his usual mocking grin, his eyes held an unusual intensity that suggested he wasn't bluffing.

They were engaged. Could Dominic truly possess some damning secret about Isabella Morgan?

Though Evelyn harbored no affection for Isabella, she had no desire to exploit anyone's vulnerabilities. That wasn't her style.

With an icy stare, Evelyn turned away. "Keep your secrets. I'm not interested."

She took three decisive steps toward the exit before Dominic's voice stopped her.

"Are you absolutely certain you don't want to know?" His tone carried an odd mixture of amusement and warning.

Evelyn didn't bother turning around, simply waving a dismissive hand.

"Alexander left me in your care," Dominic called after her, his voice suddenly sharp. "And you'd abandon a disabled man here? How heartless."

The afternoon sunlight filtered through thinning maple leaves, casting dappled shadows across Evelyn's slender frame.

She spun on her heel. "You're Dominic Powell. The man who always settles scores. What could possibly happen to you?"

Everyone knew about Dominic's leg injury from his altercation with Sebastian Powell.

Evelyn had heard the recent gossip. Sebastian had taken a nasty fall during a countryside horseback ride two days prior.

Not only had he broken his arm, but the stallion had delivered a vicious kick to his ribs.

Sebastian had coughed up blood at the scene, barely escaping with his life.

As someone familiar with elite riding clubs, Evelyn knew their horses underwent rigorous vet checks.

What were the odds Sebastian would randomly select the one deranged horse?

The timing was too perfect. Knowing Dominic's vengeful nature, Evelyn had little doubt about his involvement.

The Powell brothers shared blood but behaved like sworn enemies, their rivalry bordering on lethal.

Dominic's dark eyes locked onto Evelyn's as he wheeled closer.

"Well, well," he murmured, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk. "Seems you've got me all figured out, darling."

Sebastian's injury had forced the postponement of his upcoming wedding to Victoria Clarke.

Terrible luck for the couple, their nuptials delayed twice now - first when Victoria was mysteriously abducted, and now this.

Whispers circulated that the pair might be cursed, their union doomed before it began.

Some even claimed the Clarke family was reconsidering the marriage entirely.

"Yes, I arranged Sebastian's accident," Dominic admitted casually, seeing she'd already connected the dots.

His smile turned glacial. "Consider it mercy. I could have killed him."

Evelyn's gaze hardened. "Your father tolerates your squabbles, but do you think he'll stand by if one of you ends up dead?"

She turned to leave again when Dominic's hand shot out, capturing her wrist.

His thumb traced slow circles on her pulse point, the rough pad of his finger sending unwelcome shivers up her arm.

Evelyn tried to pull away, but Dominic's grip was unyielding.

"Concerned for my safety?" he purred. "If you care this much, darling, doesn't that prove your feelings?"

Evelyn's nostrils flared. "You're insufferable!"

"Perhaps," Dominic conceded. "But tell me - what's so special about Alexander? He spent the night with Isabella, and you just forgive him? How pathetic."

His grip tightened. "Aren't you jealous? Don't you want to leave him? Or do you enjoy the pain?"

"My marriage is none of your concern."

Evelyn believed in working through marital issues privately, without outside interference.

"None of my business?" Dominic's eyes darkened dangerously, his patience visibly thinning.

"You're too close to see the truth! When he breaks your heart, remember my offer. I'd make an excellent father to your child."

Evelyn finally wrenched free as a gust of wind whipped her hair across her face.

Without another word, she strode from the hospital grounds.

When Nathaniel Powell found Dominic later, the courtyard was littered with cigarette butts.

Nathaniel had deliberately delayed his return, hoping to give them privacy.

Judging by the scene before him, their conversation hadn't gone well.

"Mr. Powell," Nathaniel ventured cautiously, "shall we return home?"

Dominic exhaled a plume of smoke, fixing Nathaniel with a venomous glare. "Who gave you permission to meddle?"

Nathaniel remained silent.

"You'll face consequences for this," Dominic snapped.

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped.

Caught in the crossfire indeed.

Meanwhile, Alexander Whitmore's phone chimed with several incoming images.

An anonymous number had sent photos of Evelyn - with Dominic Powell.

The images showed them in what appeared to be a heated exchange outside a hospital, even holding hands at one point.

Alexander's jaw tightened, an unfamiliar rage simmering in his chest.

He immediately responded: [Identify yourself. What's your game?]

No reply came.

Alexander glanced at Isabella resting in the hospital bed.

Were she not blind, Isabella would be the obvious suspect.

But she'd been asleep since Evelyn left, with no means of contacting anyone.

Besides, her blindness made such scheming nearly impossible.

The sender's motive was clear - to drive a wedge between him and Evelyn. But who?

And since when had Evelyn and Dominic become so... familiar?

For the first time, Alexander understood exactly how Evelyn must have felt seeing him with Isabella.

He wanted to call Evelyn immediately, but just then, Isabella stirred.

"Alexander," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly, "is Evelyn gone?"

Alexander pocketed his phone as Isabella attempted to rise.

When she nearly toppled, he instinctively steadied her. "She's left."

Isabella relaxed slightly. "I'm hungry. Will you feed me?"

Alexander neither agreed nor refused. "What would you like?"

"Anything, as long as it's from you."

At that moment, Simon Graves entered with a tray of oatmeal.

He set up the bed tray efficiently. "Ms. Morgan, your meal."

Isabella's face twisted in displeasure. "I want Alexander to do it."

Simon glanced uncertainly at Alexander.

"Simon has plenty of experience caring for others," Alexander said smoothly. "He'll attend to you properly."

Simon barely suppressed a grimace.