Chapter 401

The soup exploded across Evelyn's tongue like a chemical reaction.

An assault of sour, bitter, spicy, and salty flavors burned through her sinuses. It felt like tiny needles stabbing her nasal passages, forcing beads of sweat to form on her upper lip.

Her throat convulsed. The urge to vomit clawed at her esophagus.

Yet Evelyn maintained perfect poise under the watchful eyes of the two Blackwood elders and the twins' eager gazes. She clenched her jaw against the nausea, her smile turning brittle.

"Is the soup not to your liking, Aunt Prescott? Big Brother said it's delicious!" Isabella's small hands twisted in her lace dress. "The chef used rare truffles. It'll make you even prettier!"

Beatrice Lockwood beamed at her granddaughter's thoughtfulness. Nothing pleased her more than seeing the twins warm up to Evelyn.

"My darlings are being so kind to you," Beatrice cooed. "You should finish every last drop, Evelyn."

Though Beatrice favored Evelyn as a potential daughter-in-law, her grandchildren held her heart. Their previous rejection of Evelyn had worried her. This sudden change was a blessing.

Evelyn dabbed her damp forehead, stomach churning. "Perhaps...later, Isabella?"

Tears welled in Isabella's enormous eyes. "Don't you like my gift? I picked it just for you!" Her lower lip trembled dramatically.

Reginald Blackwood's heart melted. He pulled his great-granddaughter close, feeding her a strawberry. "There, there, my precious. Let's eat dinner." His glare at Evelyn could have frozen lava.

Evelyn's blood ran cold. She'd forgotten the family patriarch's soft spot for the twins. His disapproval could ruin everything.

Gritting her teeth, she downed the entire bowl in one revolting gulp.

The empty dish clattered onto the table. Tears and mucus threatened to erupt as her digestive system rebelled. "D-delicious," she choked out. "Thank you, Isabella."

Alexander caught his sister's eye and flashed a covert thumbs-up. Both children muffled giggles at Evelyn's suffering.

Footsteps on the staircase announced Dominic's arrival with Evelyn cradled against his chest.

Evelyn's nausea momentarily forgotten, she stared hungrily at the man who moved like royalty. His sculpted features and commanding presence made her pulse race. Even in casual wear, he exuded power.

Evelyn reclined in his arms like a contented feline, her white dress accentuating porcelain skin. The sight made Evelyn's stomach lurch again.

After greeting the elders, the couple took their seats. Reginald gave Evelyn a curt nod before returning his attention to the twins. Beatrice's audible huff went ignored.

Evelyn observed Evelyn refilling Beatrice's teacup with sycophantic precision. The woman clearly believed winning over Dominic's mother guaranteed success.

A flawed strategy. Dominic bowed to no one's will - not even his grandfather's. All of Evelyn's efforts would prove futile.

Dinner proceeded in stiff silence, the tension palpable. Evelyn fidgeted, desperate to capture Dominic's attention.

Her gaze landed on the wall paintings. "Grandfather Blackwood, are those M originals? His realist works are so rare! What an impressive collection!"

Evelyn nearly choked on her wine. Two glaring errors in one breath - M was French, not English, and an impressionist, not a realist.

The corners of Dominic's mouth twitched. Even the twins exchanged knowing looks. Evelyn's face burned with humiliation as she realized her mistake.