Chapter 154

Evelyn pressed a finger to her lips, and little Amelia instantly understood. The child sealed her mouth shut with an adorable pout.

Across from them, Victoria's face darkened as she watched Alexander cradle the little girl. She forced a smile, though her nails dug into her palms.

"Alexander, whose child is that? Ethan's waiting outside—we should go." Her saccharine tone contrasted sharply with the venomous glare she shot at Amelia.

The resemblance between this brat and that peasant Evelyn was uncanny.

"Go ahead with Ethan. I'm waiting for her parents," Alexander replied coldly, his gaze lingering on Amelia's face. An inexplicable pull tugged at his chest.

Victoria's carefully planned outing was crumbling. She stormed off, nearly colliding with Evelyn in her haste.

The impact sent Evelyn's tray clattering to the floor. Soda splashed across Victoria's designer dress, the ice cubes clinging to the soaked fabric like translucent leeches.

"You clumsy oaf!" Victoria shrieked, whirling toward Alexander with crocodile tears. "This woman ruined my Dior ensemble!"

Alexander barely registered her complaint. His attention snagged on Evelyn's silhouette—the way her hair caught the light, the graceful slope of her neck. His pulse stuttered.

Evelyn arched an eyebrow at Victoria's tantrum. "The blind leading the blind, Miss Lancaster. You barreled into me like a spooked thoroughbred."

"How dare—" Victoria's tirade died mid-sentence. Her face paled as she finally registered Evelyn's features beneath the sunglasses. That jawline. Those lips.

Impossible.

Evelyn's smirk deepened. "Cat got your tongue? Or did you see a ghost?"

Victoria's throat worked soundlessly before she scrambled back to Alexander. "I-I feel faint. Take me home."

"Put me down, mister," Amelia demanded, wriggling free.

Alexander complied, but his eyes remained locked on Evelyn as she turned. Sunlight haloed her profile when she shook her hair back, revealing porcelain skin beneath the tinted lenses.

His breath hitched.

"Sir," Evelyn purred, stepping closer, "is this shrieking harpy your wife?"

The cadence of her voice extinguished Alexander's fleeting hope.

Not her.

That voice didn't belong to the woman who haunted his dreams.