Chapter 88

The entire restaurant froze in shock.

What an explosive revelation!

Ryan Fletcher and Ethan Caldwell, who had been brawling moments ago, suddenly went still.

Vanessa Hart watched the stunned hotel manager with narrowed eyes. "Call the police. Make sure they pay for the damages. These idiots deserve to rot in jail!"

She snatched up her purse, adding coldly, "And the bill for my meal? Charge it to them."

Without another word, Vanessa turned on her heel and strode out of the restaurant, leaving behind a room full of bewildered spectators.

The two men finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

Ryan wiped his split lip, glaring at Ethan. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ethan smirked, despite his bruised face. "You dumped her. You don’t get to decide who pursues her now."

His gaze flickered toward the exit where Vanessa had disappeared, and he moved to follow.

Ryan’s hand shot out, gripping Ethan’s arm. "Stay away from her."

Ethan yanked free, his grin widening. "Or what?"

The tension crackled between them, the air thick with unspoken threats.

Vanessa was long gone—but the battle for her attention had only just begun.

"Ethan, do you regret it? But you already have a fiancée!"

"How vibrant and captivating Evelyn is! Even if I don't pursue her, there are countless men fighting for her attention. Just swallow your pride!"

Ryan stormed out of the restaurant without another word.

Ethan scoffed, his grip tightening around his glass. "Damn it! Who does he think he is?"

By the time Ryan reached the street, Evelyn had already vanished.

Dark clouds gathered overhead, threatening to unleash a storm.

Not wanting to get caught in the rain, Evelyn quickly hailed a cab and headed home.

The moment she stepped inside, a deafening crack of thunder split the sky.

Meanwhile, Alexander, who had been deep in conversation with a prominent investor, suddenly turned his gaze toward the window.

Heavy raindrops pelted against the glass, sliding down like shimmering beads. The relentless thunder rumbled, pulling his attention away from the discussion.

"Mr. Whitmore, is everything alright?"

The middle-aged businessman swirled his wine glass, eyeing Alexander curiously.

Alexander barely registered the question. His mind was elsewhere—on Evelyn.

Had she made it home safely?

The storm outside mirrored the turmoil in his chest.

He needed to see her. Now.

Without another word, Alexander excused himself and strode toward the exit, leaving his bewildered companion behind.

The downpour intensified as he stepped outside, but he barely noticed.

All he could think about was her.

And the fact that Ryan had dared to speak to her at all.

His jaw clenched.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

The rain pattered against the windows as Alexander tried calling Evelyn again. Still no answer.

Something felt off.

He grabbed his coat from the chair and strode out without another word.

"Mr. Whitmore, we can reschedule the rest for tomorrow," Simon said, glancing at the storm outside. "It's getting late, and my dog hates thunderstorms."

When Alexander arrived home, the scent of garlic and herbs greeted him.

Evelyn stood in the kitchen, balancing on one foot while stirring a pot of spaghetti. Steam curled around her as she lifted a spoon to her lips, testing the sauce.

Fresh from the shower, she wore a thin white nightgown, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders.

The moment she turned and saw him, she startled, nearly dropping the spoon.

"You're back already?" Her eyes flicked to the clock. "I only made enough for one."

"I ate earlier." He shrugged off his coat, gaze briefly dropping to her wrapped ankle before settling on the pasta. "This is your dinner?"

Evelyn nodded, stirring the noodles with a proud little smile. "Carbs, veggies, and protein. Perfect balance, right?"

The storm outside rumbled, but the kitchen felt strangely warm.

Alexander didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Evelyn settled at the table with her plate of spaghetti, twirling the noodles around her fork.

Alexander's gaze lingered on her slender frame, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Have you been eating more sweets lately?"

She lifted her chin with a proud smile. "Actually, I gained nearly a pound this week!"

"That'll disappear after one trip to the bathroom."

Without another word, he strode to the refrigerator, pulled out a carton of milk, and peeled off the plastic seal. He poured it into a small saucepan, turning on the stove to warm it.

Evelyn nearly choked on her food, staring at him in disbelief.

"What?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

She swallowed hard, then set her fork down. "Mr. Whitmore, I didn’t expect someone like you to say something so... blunt."

His dark eyes locked onto hers. "Someone like me? What exactly do you think I am?"

She tilted her head, studying him. "Untouchable. Like some distant, unapproachable deity who doesn’t bother with mundane things."

A low chuckle escaped him as he stirred the milk. "That’s just your imagination. I eat, sleep, and use the toilet like everyone else. I’m just a man."

The milk in the saucepan began to froth, tiny bubbles breaking the surface.

With practiced ease, Alexander turned off the burner before it could boil over.

He poured the steaming liquid into a porcelain mug, the rich aroma filling the kitchen.

The drink was perfectly warmed—not scalding, just soothing heat radiating through the ceramic. A delicate swirl of vapor curled upward as he carried it to Evelyn.

"I'm not some unfeeling machine, Evelyn. I have needs. Desires." His voice was low, measured.

He settled beside her at the breakfast nook, his forearm resting casually on the marble countertop. The sunlight streaming through the windows caught the gold in his wedding band.

When he leaned in suddenly, his cologne—something expensive with sandalwood notes—wrapped around her. Evelyn's fingers tightened around the mug.

"That distance you sense?" His gaze pinned her in place. "It's because you're still learning who I really am."

A beat of silence. Then, with deliberate emphasis:

"As my wife, you should be attuned to me. To us."

He tilted his head, studying her reaction. "Ask yourself—do we truly belong in the same world?"

Evelyn lifted her chin, meeting those piercing eyes over the rim of her mug. The reflection in his dark irises showed her own uncertain expression staring back.