Chapter 157

Evelyn carried Isabella out.

Alexander rushed to the door, scooped up his sister's shoes, and dashed after them.

"Say goodbye to Grandpa Walter and Grandma Margaret." Dominic's deep voice resonated as he strode toward the sleek black Range Rover. He unlocked it with a click, tossing the backpacks inside.

"Goodbye Grandma Margaret, goodbye Grandpa Walter. Take care!"

Alexander sprinted back, wrapping his tiny arms around the elderly couple's necks and planting a kiss on each wrinkled cheek.

Evelyn turned gracefully, offering a polite nod. "Goodbye."

Margaret and Walter exchanged satisfied smiles, their eyes crinkling with warmth.

Dominic's large hand settled possessively on Evelyn's waist, guiding her toward the car. He opened the rear door, ushering her inside with the children.

Safety first—especially with kids. The backseat was non-negotiable.

He'd sooner cut off his own arm than let anything happen to his twins or Evelyn.

"Aunt Evie, why are you with Daddy?" Alexander blurted, buckling himself in with a puzzled frown.

Isabella stayed silent, her tiny lips pressed together. One eye was slightly swollen from the neighbor's kid's accidental hit. It didn't hurt much, but blinking stung.

The little girl buried her face in Evelyn's chest, her chubby arms clinging like ivy.

Evelyn kissed Isabella's forehead, then met Alexander's curious gaze. "I... ran into your dad. When I heard about Isabella's eye, we came together."

"Oh." Alexander nodded, but his mind whirred. Could Aunt Evie come home with them?

The car glided toward the city center.

Alexander fidgeted. He wanted to ask—badly—but Daddy's stern profile silenced him.

At a red light, Dominic caught his son's hesitant stare in the rearview mirror.

Father and son communicated in that wordless way they had. Dominic knew exactly what—or who—Alexander wanted.

The corner of Dominic's mouth twitched. He gave an almost imperceptible wink.

Encouraged, Alexander took the plunge. "Aunt Evie... could you stay with us tonight?" His voice wavered. "And leave... tomorrow?"

He held his breath. It was greedy, but he couldn't help it.

Aunt Evie smelled like sunshine and safety. Like mommies in storybooks.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed. Her gaze flicked to Dominic, whose hands tightened on the wheel.

Silence.

"Daddy... only works. He doesn't know how to fix Isabella's eye," Alexander mumbled, painting their single-dad life as tragically as possible.

Evelyn's heart ached. She'd birthed these children, yes—but the contract had been clear. Money exchanged, babies handed over, exit stage left.

Dominic had full custody. His house, his rules.

"Do you... need help?" she ventured, studying Dominic's rigid shoulders.

She wanted to stay. To cradle Isabella, to soothe the hurt she'd caused by leaving.

"If you're free," Dominic said tersely, eyes on the road, "we'd appreciate it."

Anger still simmered beneath his words—anger at her marriage to Maxwell. But he needed her. Needed her close, where he could see her.

"I'm free."

Evelyn buried her nose in Isabella's hair, inhaling the sweet, baby-shampoo scent. Happiness, sharp and sweet, flooded her veins.

Isabella dozed off, exhausted from the day's tears.

The Range Rover purred into the city center's underground parking.

Evelyn carried Isabella to the elevator, Alexander trailing like a duckling. Dominic followed, laden with backpacks.

"Your arms must be tired." He reached for Isabella. "Let me."

Evelyn recoiled instinctively. "No, I'm fine."

Dominic smirked at her possessiveness. He took Alexander's hand instead.

The lobby staff gaped at the quartet.

Is that the CEO's girlfriend?

They look like a family!

Wait, is she the stepmom?

Poor woman, taking on someone else's kids...

Isabella stirred, grumpy from her nap.

At the penthouse door, Dominic keyed in the code.

Alexander, ever the opportunist, whispered to his sister, "Aunt Evie's sleeping over!"

Before Isabella could react, Dominic cut in.

"Separate rooms," he said firmly, steering Evelyn inside. "No disturbing Aunt Evie."

Alexander's face fell. "But—"

"No buts."

The boy huffed, kicking off his shoes. Stupid grown-ups and their stupid rules.

Dominic pried Isabella from Evelyn's arms—only for the toddler to grab Evelyn's collar.

Buttons popped.

Evelyn's shirt gaped, revealing creamy skin and the swell of breasts Dominic had once explored in a dim club corner.

Heat flashed in his eyes.

"Let go," he ordered Isabella, peeling tiny fingers away.

Evelyn turned crimson, hastily refastening her shirt. She fled to the shoe rack, scrambling for slippers.

Dominic's gaze followed, dark with memory.