Chapter 158

Evelyn slipped into her house slippers and gently took Isabella from Dominic's arms.

"Have you eaten yet? Are you hungry?" Evelyn fussed over the child like an overprotective new mother, terrified her baby might go hungry.

"I already ate dinner. I'm full," Isabella answered obediently.

The child's voice still carried that adorable babyish lilt, making Evelyn's lips curve into an involuntary smile.

Dominic stepped onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette. Through the glass doors, he watched the mother-daughter interaction unfolding in the living room.

Isabella's left eye was bandaged while her right eye sparkled with joy as she gazed up at Aunt Eve. The child's happiness was palpable.

Dominic observed them for a long moment, his expression growing increasingly unreadable.

In the living room.

"Should I... give you a bath?" Evelyn nuzzled Isabella's cheek, inhaling the sweet baby scent that confirmed this was truly her daughter.

Isabella nodded eagerly. "Yes! Then I'll smell like flowers!"

Evelyn carried the child toward the bathroom.

Alexander neatly packed his schoolbag and belongings. Standing dutifully by the bathroom door, he informed Evelyn, "Aunt Eve, the innermost knob controls the temperature. The baby shampoo is in the blue bottle..."

He repeated the instructions until Evelyn memorized everything.

As the shower's spray echoed against tile, Alexander added responsibly, "Aunt Eve, just call if you need anything. I'll be right here."

Evelyn carefully removed Isabella's clothing and socks, setting them aside.

Alexander's thoughtfulness warmed Evelyn's heart. Despite being raised in the privileged Blackwood household under that vile father's influence, the boy had grown into such a conscientious young man.

A true miracle.

"Got it... thank you, my sweet little gentleman," Evelyn called softly through the door, cupping Isabella's face affectionately.

Alexander leaned against the hallway wall outside, bashfully playing with his fingers after receiving praise.

Chirp, chirp, chirp...

Finishing his cigarette, Dominic returned from the balcony to an empty living room.

Approaching the bedroom, he heard shower sounds from the bathroom. His son stood guard at the door, staring shyly at his own hands.

The clueless father frowned. "What's that look? Stomachache?"

"I... Aunt Eve praised me..." Alexander stammered, his cheeks flushing crimson.

Dominic rolled his eyes at the boy's inexplicable behavior.

A vibrating phone sounded from the living room. Spotting Evelyn's purse on the sofa, Dominic glanced at the closed bathroom door before approaching.

He retrieved the buzzing phone. Seeing "Maxwell" on the caller ID, his expression darkened as he immediately declined the call.

With Isabella's injured eye needing protection from water, bath time required extra care.

Evelyn carefully directed the shower spray over the child's body.

Isabella had always envied other children playing in water with their mothers. Now with Aunt Eve here, she couldn't resist some mischief.

"Giggle!"

The child's laughter bubbled up.

"Hey! Behave—"

Evelyn's gentle scolding held nothing but affection.

After several minutes, the bathroom quieted as the shower turned off.

Freshly scrubbed and shampooed, Isabella smelled of baby soap. Evelyn gently patted her face dry with a soft towel, carefully avoiding the injured eye.

Wrapping the little princess's damp hair in a towel, Evelyn asked softly, "Does your eye hurt?"

Isabella remembered the doctor's warning about temporary discomfort, as long as she didn't rub it. Another treatment tomorrow would speed the healing.

"With you here, Aunt Eve, it doesn't hurt at all," the child lisped through her pink pout.

Emerging from the bathroom, Evelyn cherished feeling needed. She meticulously towel-dried Isabella's hair halfway.

At a dimly lit bar that evening...

Maxwell stalked from the main area to the back exit, emerging into a shadowy alley lined with doors.

This establishment had belonged to his company for years.

"Boss." A waiter nodded respectfully, eyeing the woman trailing his employer before quickly retreating.

Maxwell kept dialing Evelyn's number.

First, the automated voice said, "The person you are calling isn't answering."

Then it changed to, "The number you have dialed is unavailable."

The implications were clear—first ignored, then possibly blocked.

Maxwell's displeasure radiated from his stiff posture.

Sophia followed tearfully behind, desperate for any scrap of his attention.

Since her hospital discharge, she'd accepted reality. If she couldn't marry rich or bear children, she'd extract as much money as possible.

Halfway down the alley, Maxwell turned with contempt. "Why are you following me?"

Sophia pressed her lips together silently.

Frustrated by Evelyn's disappearance—his own wife failing to report her whereabouts—Maxwell seethed for retribution.

"Wait..." Sophia called as he turned away.

When Maxwell spun back, she played her last card. "I'm like this because of you. Have you no compassion?"

She didn't know if appealing to his nonexistent empathy would work, but she had nothing left.

As she spoke, she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Maxwell's money scattered across the pavement. Looking down at the clinging woman, he chuckled darkly before grabbing her throat and slamming her against the alley wall.

Sophia's forehead scraped against rough brick as his cruel hands tore at her gaudy dress.

"Still begging for it after that last rough ride killed your brat?" Maxwell mocked before taking her brutally against the wall.

"Ah! Nngh—"

Agony made Sophia's nails claw at brick as sweat beaded her forehead. The unbearable pain forced whimpers through clenched teeth.