Chapter 480

At the dinner table, Lillian gazed at Dominic, utterly mesmerized. She completely missed the icy chill in his piercing gaze.

With practiced shyness, she murmured, "That's hardly surprising. No woman could resist your magnetism. A man of your intellect must know how I feel about you. It was love at first sight—deep and genuine."

Dominic masked his disdain behind a neutral expression. "Flattered, Ms. Prescott. I'm unworthy of such affection."

He checked his watch—nearly 8 PM. Evelyn would be waiting anxiously.

"Ms. Prescott, are you finished? I have pressing matters to attend to." His tone left no room for argument. "Until next time."

Lillian bit back her frustration, forcing a nod. "Of course. Duty calls." She knew patience was key in conquering Dominic Blackwood. Push too hard, and everything would crumble.

Dominic drove her home.

The entire ride, Lillian's heart fluttered like a trapped butterfly. Every glance at his sharp profile under the streetlights sent shivers down her spine—the perfect blend of elegance and raw power.

To her, he was sculpted by divine hands.

Silence stretched between them until the car halted outside the Prescott estate.

"Thank you for tonight," she breathed, unfastening her seatbelt.

Before he could react, she leaned in, pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek. Then she bolted from the car, slamming the door behind her.

Heart racing, she touched her burning cheeks. She'd never been so bold.

But the night had felt... magical.

Time would erode his attachment to Evelyn. Men clung to the past for two reasons: insufficient time, or inadequate replacements.

Lillian was more than adequate.

Inside the car, Dominic grabbed a disinfectant wipe, scrubbing his cheek raw. Disgust twisted his features.

That woman was a necessary pawn in his game. Otherwise, he'd have made her regret breathing.

The Prescott residence glowed warmly.

Genevieve sat knitting when Lillian floated in, radiant. "Mom! I'm falling in love!"

Genevieve set down her needles. "Really? Who is he? Bring him home!"

Lillian hugged her, evading details. "Not yet. But you'll adore him."

Genevieve stroked her hair. "Sweetheart, looks fade. Character matters most."

"I know! He's perfect."

Suspicion crept in. "It's not... Dominic Blackwood, is he?"

Lillian stiffened.

Genevieve sighed. "Men like him are emotional fortresses. You deserve better."

Irritation flared. "I know what I'm doing!"

Genevieve relented, unaware she'd just widened the rift between them.

Meanwhile, Evelyn sat frozen on the carpet, an unread book in her lap.

Her phone buzzed—Olivia and Abigail's messages piled up. She replied mechanically, her mind elsewhere.

8:30 PM. No Dominic.

Her stomach churned imagining him laughing with Lillian over wine.

Damn his unfairly gorgeous face. If only he were plain, life would be simpler.

The door burst open.

Cold air rushed in as Dominic strode through, moonlight outlining his frame.

Evelyn turned away, storming off—but he caught her wrist, spinning her back.

He pinned her against the wall, his body caging hers.