Chapter 403
Genevieve Prescott was fiercely protective of Lillian.
After losing her biological child, she had come to see Lillian as her only daughter. Her heart ached when she noticed the unshed tears glistening in Lillian's eyes.
She pulled Lillian into a warm embrace. "Tell me what's troubling you, darling."
Lillian nearly confessed how cruelly Dominic had treated her.
But she feared her words might turn Genevieve against Dominic permanently.
She swallowed the confession burning her tongue.
Her lashes fluttered downward as quiet sobs shook her shoulders. "Mother... I think Dominic doesn't care for me at all. That Evelyn is far more cunning than I anticipated. She humiliated me at Blackwood Manor today, flaunting her intelligence before Reginald Blackwood. Even the old master favors her now... Dominic is the first man I've ever loved. What should I do?"
Lillian buried her face against Genevieve's shoulder, hot tears staining the expensive silk.
Genevieve tenderly dabbed her daughter's cheeks with a handkerchief. The sight of Lillian's distress twisted her heart.
She pressed a warm teacup into Lillian's hands. "Dry those tears, my dear. If Dominic is who you desire, I'll move heaven and earth to make it happen."
Lillian's fingers trembled around the porcelain. "No matter what I do, he remains indifferent. Yet my feelings only grow stronger, like water boiling over in a kettle. It's hopeless..."
The desperate longing in Lillian's eyes told Genevieve everything. Her daughter had fallen irrevocably in love.
Her voice softened with sympathy. "There's no shame in loving someone, especially since Dominic isn't married yet. But if his heart truly belongs to Evelyn, we mustn't interfere. You're an exceptional woman, Lillian. Never degrade yourself by breaking others' relationships."
Initially, Genevieve hadn't considered Evelyn a threat.
In her eyes, Lillian surpassed Evelyn in every aspect - beauty, pedigree, accomplishments. She'd been certain Dominic would naturally prefer her daughter.
Clearly, she'd underestimated Evelyn.
To Genevieve, Lillian embodied grace and refinement while Evelyn was nothing but a vulgar upstart. How could the prestigious Blackwoods accept such a woman?
Lillian shut her eyes to conceal her turmoil.
Dominic represented everything she'd ever wanted, yet that dream had transformed into a blade shredding her soul.
Still, she refused to let go.
She'd sacrifice anything - except that man.
Christmas approached swiftly.
Most T Corporation employees were on holiday, but Dominic had fallen ill during this rare break.
His relentless work schedule had finally caught up with him.
Dawn-to-midnight workdays spent buried in paperwork had taken their toll. The Greenview Regalia arson case demanded particular attention.
Jillian Dove's trial would commence right after Christmas.
He'd promised Gregory Sinclair a death sentence for the arsonist, and Dominic always kept his promises.
He'd pulled strings with federal officials, chaired emergency board meetings about equity restructuring, and secured two nine-figure international deals via video conference.
That afternoon, the twins developed stomachaches from spoiled food. He and Evelyn rushed them to the hospital, only returning by evening.
By nightfall, Dominic's iron constitution finally gave out. Exhaustion manifested in a raging fever.
He'd noticed the congestion and sore throat that morning but ignored them. Now his throat burned like fire while his body alternated between chills and sweats.
His skull throbbed as if split open, limbs weighed down by invisible concrete.
Evelyn perched on the bed, tucking blankets around him. Seeing the formidable Dominic Blackwood reduced to this state made her eyes sting.
Even steel would bend under such strain.
She slipped a thermometer between his lips.
"103.5! This is dangerous!" Her voice shook.
"Just a cold," Dominic rasped. "I'll recover."
To him, illness was insignificant.
Evelyn's brow furrowed. She fetched warm water, then soaked a towel in cold water to press against his forehead.
It was all she could do until help arrived.
In his feverish haze, Dominic inhaled Evelyn's delicate floral scent. Immediately, some tension left his body.
"Drink this." Evelyn leveraged her slight frame to prop him up.
She braced against the headboard, cradling Dominic's back against herself as she tipped water to his lips.
"Slowly now." Her movements were feather-light, as though tending a fragile child.
To Dominic, her voice was angelic, her touch miraculous.
No one had cared for him like this since childhood. Having Evelyn here felt like divine grace.