Chapter 721

Alexander's pride wouldn't allow him to admit the truth. Ethan, still reeling from the punches, couldn't piece everything together, but he had a gut feeling—this was about Evelyn.

Realizing Alexander's anger stemmed from her, Ethan actually grinned. He tilted his face forward, taunting, "Go on, Uncle Alexander! Hit me again! Even if you beat me bloody, I'll still love Evelyn!"

The smug, almost euphoric look on Ethan's face made Alexander freeze mid-swing. A thought struck him—Did this bastard just enjoy getting punched?

Disgusted, Alexander released him. Without support, Ethan collapsed onto the couch like a limp doll. Alexander shot him one last glare before storming out.

Watching Alexander's retreating figure, Ethan's grin faded. Something was off between him and Evelyn.

That look in his eyes... It's serious. But what the hell happened?

It was past midnight when Alexander finally returned home. Evelyn lay in bed, listening to his movements outside. He'd been gone all day, and she hadn't bothered to call.

Then—a sharp crash.

She bolted upright and rushed out. The moment she opened the door, her gaze locked onto his hand—blood dripped from his palm, staining his skin crimson. Shattered glass littered the floor.

The living room was dark, but she guessed he'd been reaching for water and knocked the glass over. Her chest tightened as she grabbed the first aid kit. "Since when are you this clumsy?"

As she approached, the heavy scent of alcohol hit her. He'd been drinking—and not just a little.

She bit her lip, staying silent as she tended to his wound. His mind seemed foggy, distant, weighed down by something unspoken.

Alexander sank onto the couch, letting her work. Just yesterday, she'd been ice-cold toward him. Now, here she was, patching him up. He should've been grateful, but—

Her touch was gentle as she plucked out the glass shards and disinfected the cut. Thankfully, it wasn't deep.

The clock ticked past 1 a.m. Alexander rarely came home this late, even during his busiest days.

Evelyn finally broke the silence. "Who were you drinking with?"

"No one." His voice was low, strained. "Just me."

Her eyes flickered to his scraped knuckles—he'd been in a fight. Alexander wasn't the type to brawl. Unease coiled in her stomach. "What happened?"

He leaned back, shirt half-unbuttoned, his gaze hazy with alcohol. "Nothing."

The curt reply left her feeling suffocated. Sensing his mood, she didn't push further, quietly finishing the bandaging.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke again. "Evelyn... is there something you need to tell me?"

He didn't look at her. Instead, he covered his eyes with one hand, as if drowning in some unbearable grief.

Her breath hitched. Had she missed something? She studied him carefully. "What do you mean?"

A beat of silence. Then—"About the baby."

Her pulse spiked. "Is something wrong?"

She'd called the doctor earlier, but there'd been no reply. Now, with Alexander gone all day, dread crept in. Did something happen to the baby?

"The baby's fine." His words eased the knot in her chest.

Seeing her worry so plainly, Alexander looked away. He couldn't tell her about the heart condition—not yet. Not when it would destroy her.

When she stayed silent, he stood abruptly. "It's late. Get some rest." He turned toward the study.

Evelyn stared after him, unsettled. Something was wrong—she could feel it.

Alexander had always been attentive, but since their return, he'd been more—cooking for her, making the house feel like a sanctuary, all to help her recover.

She wasn't ungrateful. She'd wanted to observe him longer. But tonight, his demeanor had shifted too drastically.

Her feet moved before she could stop herself. "Alexander? What's going on?"

He paused, then turned. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. But in his eyes, she was the only warmth in the freezing night.

His fingers twitched. "Evelyn... are you hiding something from me?"

Her mind flashed to the Brookstone College of Music application—the video interview tomorrow. She hadn't mentioned it yet. It wasn't certain, so why bring it up?

But that split-second hesitation was enough.

Alexander's expression darkened. That pause confirmed it—she was keeping secrets. A bitter smirk twisted his lips.

Suddenly, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Without warning, his lips crashed onto hers, pinning her wrists against the wall.

His voice was raw, almost broken. "Why hide it from me? Do I mean nothing to you? Am I just a fool for you to play with?"

The pain in his eyes was unbearable.

Outside, the wind roared back to life.