Chapter 169

Maxwell stood waiting outside the theater.

Dominic emerged from the third row, stepping into the aisle. He positioned himself where he could clearly see the fourth row. His gaze lingered.

By then, nearly everyone had left the auditorium.

On stage, the crew was dismantling the set.

In the fourth row, a couple was locked in a passionate embrace. The man's hands wandered beneath the woman's shirt without restraint. One could only imagine what they did in private.

Eleanor Lockwood hadn't gotten a good look at them. She called out impatiently, "Let's go. Your father's waiting."

Maxwell's brow furrowed as he continued staring at the distant figures.

Then he noticed their matching sneakers. The tension in his shoulders eased as he finally followed his mother out.

Frederick Lockwood stood outside, visibly annoyed. "What kept you?"

"Some young couple couldn't keep their hands to themselves. The youth these days," Eleanor muttered, leading the way to the parking lot.

Their arranged driver was already waiting.

Frederick recognized him - the same man who'd worked with Maxwell five years ago at the bar.

"What's this about?" Frederick demanded.

Maxwell explained, "You two go ahead. I've got unfinished business since I postponed it for the movie. We'll talk more at dinner."

Eleanor quickly ushered her husband into the car, avoiding another argument.

Frederick remained silent.

Before entering, Eleanor turned. "If you say you'll be back for dinner, mean it. We need to discuss your situation with Evelyn."

Maxwell nodded. "I will."

As the car drove off, Maxwell turned to unlock his own vehicle. The familiar beep sounded just as he noticed a black Range Rover parked two spots away.

He froze.

Dominic drove an identical model.

Of course, many people owned the same car in this city.

But the license plate confirmed his suspicion.

His throat went dry as the truth hit him.

Last night's unanswered calls. The disconnected tone. He'd been blocked.

He'd known it since spotting the Range Rover.

All night outside Reginald Sinclair's hospital room. No sign of Evelyn.

The exhaustion. The cold water splashed on his face at dawn.

This wasn't like him. He didn't even like Evelyn.

Yet jealousy had consumed him completely.

Legally, she was still his wife. That meant something, even if she didn't care.

He'd waited outside the hospital all morning, certain she'd visit her grandfather. She never came.

Now this.

Maxwell stormed back into the theater.

That couple in the VIP section - their builds matched Dominic and Evelyn's. He hadn't seen their faces.

What were the odds they'd sit directly behind him and his parents?

The VIP hall stood empty now.

Maxwell recalled the scene vividly. A gut feeling lasted exactly ten seconds.

Why would Dominic wear matching sneakers? The man never dressed so casually.

Evelyn, at twenty-four, would. But Dominic?

Meanwhile, Evelyn walked alone toward the subway station.

She'd declined Dominic's offer to accompany her.

Their agreement stood - she could see the twins whenever she wanted, even have them stay weekends.

No need for further intimacy between them.

Before parting, Dominic had warned, "Leave now if you want to avoid him. Maxwell's suspicious nature might bring him back here."

The man spoke in riddles.

On the subway, Evelyn closed her eyes in frustration.

She'd planned her exit strategy when marrying Maxwell. Saving her grandfather came first, but she wouldn't sacrifice her entire future.

When the time came, she'd file for divorce without hesitation. A marriage certificate shouldn't be a life sentence.

Nearly home, Olivia's text arrived: "Are you there? No one's answering. Can't face my parents right now..."

Evelyn replied, "Almost there."

She found Olivia waiting outside her apartment.

Inside, Olivia's eyes immediately dropped to Evelyn's shoes.

"Oh my God! Six thousand four hundred—"

Evelyn set down her bag, swapping heels for slippers. "What is?"

"Those shoes! They're from the luxury family collection. The mother's pair retails for six thousand four hundred dollars."

Evelyn frowned. Six thousand for shoes? Her budget capped at three hundred.

The doorbell rang.

"Expecting someone? Your boss perhaps?" Olivia teased, already opening the door before Evelyn could stop her.

Maxwell stood in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" Olivia asked, eyeing the intimidating suited man.

His gaze locked onto Evelyn. "We need to talk."