Chapter 147

Dominic's dark brows knitted together, his aristocratic features clouded with barely concealed irritation. Evelyn understood exactly what was troubling him.

"Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself?" She jerked her wrist away from his grasp.

To her surprise, his fingers clamped down harder instead of releasing her.

His piercing gaze turned glacial as it locked onto her trembling eyes. "How exactly should I address you then? As my dear cousin's wife perhaps?" The mocking edge in his voice sent chills down her spine.

Evelyn's temper flared at his words. "Call me whatever you like. It makes no difference to me."

Just as his grip threatened to crush her delicate bones, Grandfather's voice interrupted. "Evelyn, did you pack the children's school bags?"

Pain rendered her speechless. Only when Dominic finally loosened his hold did she realize how close she'd come to a broken wrist.

The predatory glint in his eyes reflected in her tear-filled gaze. Biting her lip, she wrenched free from his grasp...

"Say goodbye to your great-grandfather," Dominic commanded emotionlessly as they reached the doorway.

The little boy clutched his father's hand while waving with the other. "Bye Great-grandpa! Rest well. I'll...I'll visit tomorrow..."

"I'll look forward to it," the elderly man replied warmly.

Dominic led his son from the room.

Before the door closed completely, the child glanced back at Aunt Evelyn who hadn't followed. Walking down the corridor, he suddenly looked up. "Daddy, I think Aunt Evelyn is crying secretly."

Dominic didn't spare him a glance. "You're imagining things."

"But I'm not..." the boy insisted stubbornly.

The man's frown deepened.

Evelyn had braced herself for Grandfather's inevitable questions - why she suddenly cared about their social differences, why she ended things when everything seemed perfect.

Yet the old man asked nothing.

He simply lay quietly, refusing to burden his granddaughter with sighs or disapproving looks.

Harrison's text arrived just then.

After reading it, she adjusted Grandfather's blankets meticulously before slipping out, closing the door softly behind her...

Harrison waited at the hospital entrance.

"Is your family member hospitalized?" he asked with genuine concern when he spotted her. "My grandfather," Evelyn admitted without hesitation.

"Care for coffee?" He gestured toward a nearby café.

She nodded. A conversation was overdue anyway.

Inside the café...

Harrison ordered their usual drinks, remembering her preferences from previous dates.

The coffee took unusually long to arrive.

"What's wrong with your grandfather?" he inquired. "Just age-related issues. He'll be discharged soon," Evelyn deflected, unwilling to mention the kidnapping that would only alarm him.

Harrison fell silent, carefully analyzing her words, particularly "age-related issues"...

After a pause, he looked up. "Are you handling his care alone? Where are your parents?"

Their coffee arrived just then.

The server departed after setting down their order.

"My father..." Evelyn's fingers tightened around the scalding cup as if numb to the heat. "My father's hospitalized too. My mother left us right after I was born."

Harrison's coffee cup froze halfway to his lips.

Learning about Robert's condition left him speechless.

When the silence stretched too long, his expression darkened.

Eventually, Harrison stood and left without another word. Evelyn remained until the café nearly emptied before finding strength to leave.

Perhaps breaking up had been the right choice. Maybe they shouldn't have dated at all.

Early next morning...

After preparing Grandfather's breakfast, Evelyn headed to work.

On the crowded subway, her phone rang.

An unknown number.

"Hello? Evelyn Sinclair?"

A woman's voice.

"Yes, speaking." The hospital line subway was always standing room only. She gripped the overhead rail tightly.

"I'm Harrison's mother. We need to talk."

Evelyn stiffened. "Of course, Mrs. Wells..."

"My son came home drunk last night - something he's never done before. When we pressed him, the alcohol loosened his tongue. He told us everything about your...situation."

Though not domineering by nature, Mrs. Wells couldn't remain silent about Evelyn's unacceptable family circumstances. As Harrison's mother, she knew her kind-hearted son often overlooked people's flaws.

"His father and I believe you two should end this!"

"Ms. Sinclair? Are you listening?" The impatience was palpable.

Subway interference made responses difficult. Just as Evelyn opened her mouth to reply, the connection cut out.

When service restored, Mrs. Wells' tone had turned razor-sharp. "Your silence speaks volumes! Let me be clear - don't take advantage of my son's generosity. However much he earns, it shouldn't fund your dying father or ailing grandfather. Stop preying on decent people, you gold-digger!"

The line went dead.

Evelyn stood frozen as the dial tone echoed in her ears.

Just then, the train reached her stop.

Downtown crowds surged toward the exits. Before she could process the venomous words, the jostling mob tore a button from her blouse.

Emerging from the station, her phone buzzed with notifications.

A college friend had texted: 'Eve, interested in part-time work? I know a gig - we could partner up! Base $300/night plus commission, though the product's tricky... [Photo] Check if you're comfortable promoting these at a club. Don't worry - it's my friend's uncle's legit business. No creeps. Reply if interested!'

Evelyn responded: 'Sorry, was underground. Just escaped the subway crush.'

'So? Want to team up?' came the immediate reply.

Evelyn hesitated, staring at the knockoff "Durax" condoms in the photo. But money was money. Selling protection meant promoting responsible intimacy and women's health.

'Send details,' she typed.

As she hit send, the crosswalk signal turned green.

Stepping off the curb, her gaze drifted absently - then locked onto a figure exiting the subway ten meters away.

Margaret Whitmore - the woman who'd arranged her surrogate pregnancy five years ago!