Chapter 23

The boy had countless questions swirling in his young mind. He lingered by the bathroom door, waiting impatiently for his father to finish showering.

Dominic stepped out with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets glistened on his sculpted torso as he ran fingers through damp hair.

"Dad, doesn't Miss Evelyn have parents? Why do you need to take care of her?" Alexander couldn't comprehend this arrangement.

Dominic sat on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs as he towel-dried his hair. "How old are you? How old is she?"

"I'm five..." The boy hesitated. "But I don't know her age."

Dominic met his son's curious gaze. "You're five. She's twenty-four. Nineteen years apart." He leaned forward. "You'll grow up fast. Soon you'll be a man with dreams and responsibilities. By then I'll be in my fifties, aging. Same for your Miss Evelyn. One day we'll be as old as your great-grandfather."

Alexander nodded solemnly.

"But Miss Evelyn will have her own husband and kids." The boy's forehead wrinkled. "Will you take care of them too?"

Dominic's expression darkened. "Why would I care for her husband?" He stood abruptly, tossing the damp towel aside.

Her husband? That Nathan Kensington?

Dominic's jaw tightened visibly.

Alexander bit his lip, fingers fidgeting. He couldn't understand why his simple question had angered his father again.

Meanwhile at Regal Capital...

Evelyn had no recollection of when sleep finally claimed her. Nightmares tormented her until dawn, leaving her with a throbbing headache that refused to subside.

Her phone vibrated unnoticed.

Nathan's message read: "Evelyn, guessing you're still asleep. Hope this doesn't disturb you. Swamped today - can't visit. Take medicine if cold persists. See you Monday. Mom's bringing chicken soup - she got your address."

The sleeping woman remained oblivious.

Outside the apartment complex...

Morning sunlight filtered through post-rain humidity, casting gentle warmth on pedestrians.

Patricia Kensington carefully balanced her soup container, walking briskly toward Regal Capital after disembarking the bus.

The aging neighborhood showed signs of wear but maintained quiet dignity. Elderly residents rocked on chairs, sipping tea in clusters.

A woman in floral print fanned herself dramatically, pointing toward Building 12. "Next time she appears, I'll show you! Never judge by appearances! That innocent-looking girl is actually a shameless homewrecker!"

"Tabitha, hush! You can't make such claims without proof," another woman chided.

Tabitha bristled at the challenge. "Ask anyone here! Have I ever lied? Let her confront me! I'll name her right now - Evelyn Sinclair!"

Patricia's hands trembled violently as she approached. "Did you say Evelyn Sinclair? What exactly do you mean by homewrecker?"

The gossiping women turned in unison.

Tabitha eyed the newcomer suspiciously. "Who's asking? Never seen you here before."

Patricia's voice shook with maternal protectiveness. "She's my daughter-in-law! How dare you spread such filth!"

"Aha! The mother-in-law!" Tabitha's gaze dropped to the soup container, smirking. "You don't live together, do you? Bet your son's rarely home either. Pathetic - defending that slut while she parades her sugar daddy around!"

Patricia's face drained of color. "You... saw this yourself?"

Tabitha pointed triumphantly toward a lamppost. "Right there! Disgusting public display!"

"My son is quite tall..." Patricia grasped at straws.

"Ask your precious daughter-in-law!" Tabitha sneered. "Over 190cm, designer suit, obviously wealthy. Textbook sugar daddy arrangement!"

The soup container crashed to the pavement.

By the time Evelyn awoke, the clock showed past ten. She reached for water, throat parched, then checked her phone. Nathan's seven AM message about his mother's visit made her frown.

Patricia should have arrived hours ago.

Worried about wrong bus stops, Evelyn dialed her mother-in-law's number.

"Sorry, the number you called is currently unavailable." The robotic response offered no comfort after prolonged ringing.