Chapter 9
Ethan Caldwell's expression turned stormy as his fingers tapped impatiently against the polished mahogany table, each sharp rap reverberating through the tense silence of the room.
He couldn’t fathom how Evelyn Carter, after years of unwavering devotion to him, could so casually discard their engagement.
"Is this because of Vanessa?" His voice was laced with disbelief. "They’ve just been collaborating more on projects lately. Are you really going to throw everything away over something so trivial?"
Margaret Hayes was quick to chime in, her tone dripping with false concern. "Honestly, Evelyn, do you truly think so poorly of Vanessa? She’s never been anything but kind to you. Why would she ever try to come between you and Ethan?"
Evelyn’s gaze swept over her parents before settling on Vanessa.
The irony was almost laughable.
Vanessa didn’t even need to defend herself. Their parents were always the first to leap to her defense.
Yet Evelyn—the one who had sacrificed, the one who had endured—was left standing alone.
A bitter smirk curled Evelyn’s lips.
"This isn’t a joke, and I’m not being petty. I’m ending things with Ethan. It’s done."
Ethan, frustration boiling over, yanked at his tie with rough impatience. "What the hell, Evelyn? What do you want now?"
"What's the meaning of this?"
Evelyn's laugh was brittle, devoid of any real amusement.
"You think this is just some childish outburst?"
Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
"Ethan, do you honestly believe that because I love you, I’m somehow beneath you? That my feelings don’t matter?"
Her nails dug into her palms.
"You can’t see my pain, so you dismiss it as drama?"
The words spilled out before she could stop them.
"I’ve wanted to ask you this for so long. When you abandoned your fiancée to protect another woman, did you even consider how I’d feel?"
Her chest tightened.
"And how could you just discard me like I meant nothing?"
The memory of Ethan’s careless words to his friends earlier twisted like a knife in her ribs.
His expression shifted as realization dawned—her anger wasn’t baseless.
She had heard him.
His careless remarks had cut deeper than he’d ever intended.
A humorless chuckle escaped him. "It was just banter between friends. You’re really this upset over a joke?"
Vanessa, sensing the tension escalating, stepped in. "Evelyn, this isn’t the time. Throwing a fit only makes things harder for Mom and Dad. Calling off the engagement like this makes us all look foolish."
Her words were sharp, calculated.
Evelyn’s jaw clenched.
Foolish?
No.
This wasn’t foolishness.
This was survival.
The slap echoed through the grand hall of Hawthorne Estate, sharp and unforgiving.
Evelyn's vision swam, her cheek burning with the force of Richard's strike. The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation twisting in her chest.
"This family is already a laughingstock," Richard snarled, his face flushed with rage. "I've never seen a daughter disgrace her own blood like this. And you're worried about what outsiders think?"
Evelyn swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides. She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of them.
"You think breaking off the engagement leaves you any options?" Richard scoffed. "Who would dare cross the Caldwells for you? No one wants damaged goods, Evelyn. Especially not with your record going public tomorrow."
Her stomach churned.
"You've ruined us!" he spat.
"I was framed!" Evelyn shot back, her voice raw. "Vanessa set me up, and you all just—believed her!"
The words tasted bitter. She had spent years hoping they'd see the truth. But they never would.
Not her father. Not her mother. None of them.
Evelyn straightened, her resolve hardening.
She was done.
Done with their cruelty.
Done with their betrayal.
Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving the shattered remains of her family behind.
The moment Evelyn turned away, the heavens split open.
Torrential rain crashed down like shattered glass, drenching the streets in seconds.
A maid rushed forward with an umbrella, concern etched on her face, but Evelyn merely shook her head.
She stepped into the downpour without hesitation, her dress clinging to her skin within moments.
For the first time, clarity struck her like lightning.
Her family? A carefully constructed lie.
Her lover? A betrayal wrapped in pretty words.
The cold rain numbed her skin, but inside, something unfamiliar bloomed—freedom.
Each drop felt like it was scrubbing away the years of deception, the weight of their false love dissolving into the gutters.
She didn’t see the sleek black car idling nearby, its windows tinted against the storm.
Inside, Alexander Whitmore took a slow drag from his cigarette, the glow casting shadows across his sharp features.
His eyes never left his phone, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Then, the car door opened.
Simon Graves slid into the passenger seat, his suit damp from the rain.
A tense silence stretched between them before Simon finally spoke, his voice low.
Alexander’s posture shifted instantly, his gaze sharpening.
“So, this is how the night unfolded,” Simon murmured, still visibly unsettled by what he’d witnessed.
The storm raged on, but inside that car, something far more dangerous was brewing.
The realization hit him like a thunderbolt—how could the true heiress be treated so cruelly by an imposter, while her own family stood by and did nothing?
A bitter thought crossed his mind. What kind of people are they?
Have they lost all sense of reason?
Simon glanced at Alexander’s unreadable expression, then at Evelyn’s retreating figure, and hesitated. "Should we go after her?"
Alexander’s attention, however, was fixed on his phone as the screen suddenly lit up.
The soft glow highlighted his sharp jawline, and his detached demeanor shifted into something more intrigued as the call connected.
A faint smirk curved his lips as he answered.
"258, is that you?" Evelyn’s uncertain voice echoed through the line.