Chapter 661

"I'm sorry. It only happened once with him."

Lillian Harper looked utterly ashamed, as if she'd only resorted to such actions when desperate for money.

She never expected her boyfriend would catch them red-handed that very night.

Ethan Caldwell couldn't take it anymore. "Stop it. How could you hit a woman?"

"Shut your mouth! You slept with my girlfriend—I should've beaten you to death tonight!"

"Enough!"

The officer's sharp command silenced them.

When Alexander Whitmore arrived, his gaze locked onto Lillian’s eyes—so eerily similar to Evelyn’s—and everything clicked into place.

Alexander’s presence was commanding. The moment he stepped in, the entire station fell into a hush, all eyes drawn to him.

Late at night, his expression was stormy, his eyes as cold as the midnight air.

An officer immediately approached. "Mr. Whitmore."

Without hesitation, Alexander said, "Where do I pay the bail?"

The man led him into a room. Minutes later, the paperwork was signed, and Alexander strode back out.

His icy gaze landed on Ethan. "Aren’t you leaving? Why are you still sitting here?"

Ethan finally moved.

Trevor Moss hurried after Alexander. "Mr. Whitmore, thank you for tonight. I won’t take up any more of your time—I’ll get going!"

With that, Trevor bolted as if fleeing a predator.

As they left, the officer turned to Lillian and her boyfriend, still seated.

"Why are you two still here? You’re free to go."

Lillian blinked in shock. "But no one bailed us out yet..."

"Mr. Whitmore covered your bail. You can leave."

Lillian froze. That man who just walked in?

Her boyfriend scoffed. "Who does he think he is? We don’t need his charity!"

Lillian yanked his arm. "Shut up! Do you want to rot in here for days?"

Outside, Alexander was already in his car. Seeing Ethan lingering, he frowned. "What are you waiting for? Get in."

Ethan didn’t want Alexander here.

It was humiliating—getting into a brawl over a woman and needing his rival to bail him out.

Again, he’d lost to Alexander.

Trevor hadn’t wanted to involve his family, so he’d called Alexander instead.

"Uncle Alexander, I’ll transfer the bail money later."

Ethan reluctantly opened the passenger door and slid in.

He’d arrived in a police car—his own was still parked outside Eclipse Lounge.

Alexander started the engine, but instead of heading toward Whitmore Manor, he drove toward the hospital where Vanessa Hart was still recovering.

Ethan, drunk and drowsy, slumped against the window.

Alexander didn’t hesitate. He yanked Ethan out and punched him square in the face.

The force snapped Ethan awake.

A bruise bloomed on his cheek, blood trickling from his split lip.

Staggering, Ethan braced himself against the car, wiping his mouth.

He looked wrecked—but unsurprised.

"I couldn’t have her, so I settled for a lookalike. Uncle Alexander, even if you’re pissed, you had no right to hit me."

Alexander’s fist flew again.

Ethan’s lip swelled further.

"You didn’t appreciate her when she was yours. Now you’re playing the heartbroken fool? Pathetic."

Alexander’s voice was glacial, his face shadowed.

"The first punch was for me. The second was for Evelyn. Get your act together."

He turned to leave.

Then Ethan noticed it—a fresh love bite on Alexander’s neck.

His stomach twisted. Did Evelyn do that?

Was she always this bold with him?

Alexander’s phone rang, shattering the silence.

Ethan heard Evelyn’s sleepy voice, soft and sweet.

"Darling, when are you coming home? I had a nightmare... I’m scared without you here. I miss you..."

Ethan went still.

He’d never seen Alexander’s fury dissolve so fast, replaced by warmth.

Alexander smiled—genuine, radiant.

"I’ll be home in ten minutes."

"I’ll see you then?"

Evelyn’s voice was drowsy. "The baby kicked earlier... I think they missed their daddy. Hurry back and hold me..."

Alexander’s grin widened. He couldn’t wait to wrap her in his arms.

The car vanished into the night, leaving Ethan standing alone.

The taillights faded into darkness.

The world felt vast, yet Ethan was trapped—circling the same pain, unable to escape.

Evelyn had been right there, within reach.

And he’d thrown her away.

No substitute could ever replace her.

Tears spilled over. His face was wet, his chest hollow.

He was crying over a woman.

Because he’d destroyed the best thing he’d ever had.

Alexander arrived home exactly ten minutes later.

Evelyn’s smile lit up the room the second the door opened.

She sat up, switching on the lamp.

Alexander pulled her into his arms. "Mrs. Whitmore, I heard you missed me."

Her heart raced as his stubble brushed her cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

She nodded. "You were gone two hours and forty minutes. I missed you the whole—"

His kiss swallowed her words.

Alexander’s lips were as intoxicating as his gaze.

If she weren’t pregnant, he’d have taken her right then.

When they broke apart, Evelyn gasped for air—then noticed the bruises on his knuckles.

Her eyes widened. "Did you hit him?"

Alexander’s jaw tightened, thinking of Ethan’s cheap imitation of Evelyn.

"Are you worried about him?"

Evelyn traced his lips. "Alexander, I’m worried about you. Does it hurt?"