Chapter 500

Dominic tapped his cigarette against the ashtray with practiced ease. "Find him. And the mastermind behind this. I don't care what it takes."

His voice was deceptively soft, laced with an icy edge that sent shivers down the spine.

Sebastian gave a firm nod.

He knew better than anyone when his boss was truly enraged.

Dominic returned to the hospital room.

Reginald Sinclair, weakened by age and stress, had been sent home earlier by Gwendolyn.

Evelyn had stayed with Olivia until the latter finally calmed down, then asked Sebastian to escort her home.

Now, only Dominic and Evelyn remained in the sterile white room.

Evelyn studied him. Even in casual attire, he exuded an air of effortless aristocracy.

The dim lighting accentuated the sharp angles of his face, making him look even more enigmatic.

He was dazzling—but that very brilliance attracted too much attention.

The memory of that coy, feminine voice from the party resurfaced in her mind.

She wanted to ask about the woman, but after a moment's hesitation, she bit her lip and stayed silent.

She had promised to trust him completely. If she truly meant it, there was no room for doubt.

Dominic noticed her hesitation. He crossed the room in long strides, sat beside her, and pulled her slender frame into his arms.

She was his solace. Just holding her melted the ice in his chest.

Evelyn was woven into his very being. Every breath she took affected him.

"Still worried about Olivia?" He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Percy didn’t hurt her—just scared her a little. He won’t dare go too far with me around."

She clung to him tighter, as if afraid he might vanish.

Dominic knew her too well. That desperate grip told him everything.

He tilted her chin up and saw the flicker of sorrow in her clear eyes.

Then it hit him—Lillian's interruption during their phone call at the party.

He pressed a series of tender kisses to Evelyn's forehead.

"It was Elizabeth Prescott's birthday today," he explained. "I attended her party at the Prescott estate. The voice you heard was Lillian's. She clung to my arm, but I scrubbed myself raw in the shower before coming here. Smell me—do I still reek of her perfume?"

He rolled up his sleeve and held his wrist to her nose.

Evelyn exhaled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

She took his hand, tracing the lines of his fingers with her own. "I trust you. I meant what I said—no more suspicion. But love is strange. Even knowing it's an act, I can't help feeling possessive. I want all of you. Even a glance from another woman feels like a threat."

Love was a double-edged sword. It bound two hearts together while cursing them with jealousy.

Sometimes sweet as honey, sometimes bitter as poison.

Dominic brushed his thumb over her flawless cheek.

After a lingering kiss, he vowed, "This charade won’t last much longer. Once it's over, I’ll give you the wedding you deserve. You’ll be Mrs. Blackwood in every way."

Evelyn buried her face in his chest, smiling like the first bloom of spring.

The next morning, the twins arrived to visit their mother.

Dominic brought them to the hospital.

Isabella clutched her brother’s hand, her small frame trembling as she stood by the bed. Tears streaked her rosy cheeks.

"Mommy!" Her voice cracked, tears flowing freely.

Evelyn reached for her.

She wiped her daughter’s tears away. "Don’t cry, sweetheart. Mommy’s okay."

At just five years old, Isabella couldn’t fully grasp what had happened—but the sight of her mother’s leg in a cast made her bite her lip hard.

Guilt gnawed at her. If she hadn’t insisted on going to the bathroom, her mother wouldn’t have been hurt.

The twins had grown up without a mother’s love until Evelyn came into their lives.

Isabella adored her—yet she’d caused this.

What if Mommy stopped loving her because of it?

Evelyn squeezed her daughter’s small hand. Isabella usually took great care with her appearance, but today her hair was unbrushed, her clothes slightly rumpled.

It only made her look more vulnerable.

Evelyn loved both children deeply, but she had a soft spot for her daughter. Alexander was mature beyond his years, needing less attention.

Isabella, though just as bright, wore her heart on her sleeve.

That was why Evelyn doted on her.

Seeing the guilt in Isabella’s eyes, Evelyn’s heart ached. She cupped her face.

"Listen to me, my darling. You could never make me love you less. You and your brother are my greatest blessings. All I want is for you to be safe and happy."

As their mother, she would move heaven and earth to protect them.