Chapter 425

The night was thick with shadows, wrapping around them like a velvet cloak.

Silence finally settled in the next room after what felt like hours of unrestrained passion.

Dominic had been stirred by the sounds. His hands moved carefully as he washed Evelyn's body, starting with gentle, controlled strokes. But soon, his restraint began to crumble.

Her skin carried the delicate scent of violets—fresh, intoxicating, impossible to ignore.

The warmth of the water mirrored the heat rising in his veins.

His touch grew bolder, tracing the curves he knew so well.

Exhausted but still aware, Evelyn caught his wrist.

"No," she murmured. "The doctor said the first three months are too risky. It could hurt the baby."

Dominic had kept his distance since learning of her pregnancy, though it hadn't been easy. He prided himself on self-control, but with her, it vanished.

"I won't hurt you," he promised, pulling her close until their bodies melded together. "Or our child."

His gaze locked onto hers, darker than the night outside. The effort to hold back left his forehead damp with sweat, his jaw tight with tension.

Evelyn's heart ached at the sight.

She hesitated, then whispered, "If... if it's too much, I can... help you another way."

Without meeting his eyes, she reached down.

Dominic hadn't expected this. His breath hitched as he watched her, cheeks flushed, lashes lowered. The sight reminded him of their first night together—electric, unforgettable.

Nearly an hour later, Evelyn's fingers were stiff, but Dominic finally found release.

He exhaled, satisfied, then carefully cleaned them both before carrying her to bed.

Pregnancy drained her quickly.

The moment her head touched the pillow, she curled into the blankets and was asleep within seconds.

Dominic brushed a strand of hair from her face, watching her peaceful expression.

They already had two beautiful children. Now, another was on the way.

Their wedding, originally planned for winter, would have to be moved up. May seemed perfect—early enough that her belly wouldn’t show.

He imagined her in white, walking toward him, and his chest tightened.

Dawn broke, but Lillian hadn’t slept.

The events of yesterday replayed in her mind like a nightmare. The pain, the humiliation—it left her trembling until her phone rang, jolting her back to reality.

The hospital. The DNA results were ready.

She hung up, dragged herself up, and yanked open the curtains. Sunlight stabbed at her eyes.

Seven-thirty.

She'd barely slept, tossing until dawn. Her bandaged hand ached, a bitter reminder of last night.

Her adoptive parents had been too busy with their precious family gathering to even call her.

Did they even care?

The thought twisted inside her.

Downstairs, Genevieve was arranging flowers in the living room.

Lillian forced a smile.

Genevieve set down her shears. "Lillian, you're awake. Your grandfather had a heart attack last night. We tried calling, but your phone was off."

Lillian bit back a scoff. As if that old man would ever ask for me.

Still, she feigned concern. "Is he okay?"

She made sure to let her injured hand catch Genevieve’s attention.

"He's stable now—" Genevieve's eyes widened. "What happened to your hand?"

Lillian's chest warmed slightly. At least someone noticed.

"Just a prop accident on set," she lied, pulling away. "It's nothing."

Genevieve frowned. "No more filming until it heals. You should've told us!"

Lillian hugged her arm. "I’m fine, Mom. I’ll go get Dad for breakfast."

"Your father’s in the study with Lucas. Hurry back."

Lillian headed upstairs, but as she reached the study door—left slightly ajar—she froze.

Lucas's voice drifted out.

"Mr. Prescott, I found proof of Dominic’s bribery eight years ago..."

Her pulse spiked.

This changed everything.