Chapter 203

Dominic's face turned ghostly pale as he pointed a shaking finger at Evelyn, who was calmly washing her hands at the sink.

His breath hitched.

Staggering to his feet, he pressed a hand against the wall for support—his legs had turned to jelly beneath him.

This was his first time attending such an extravagant gala, and he had indulged in far too much champagne, thinking it would ease his nerves.

But now, under the haze of alcohol, Evelyn's hauntingly beautiful smile flickered in his vision like a ghostly apparition.

Her face multiplied before his eyes, the figures closing in on him.

He couldn't breathe.

Terrified, he stumbled backward, his words slurring.

"E-Evelyn Sinclair! Why won't you just disappear? The one you want is Victoria! Not me!"

Watching him tremble like a leaf, Evelyn stepped forward, the sharp click of her heels echoing in the empty restroom.

A slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

"You're asking why I'm haunting you? I think you already know the answer."

"Ah!" Dominic bolted into the men's restroom, slamming the door behind him. "I don't know anything! Go after Victoria if you want revenge! Leave me alone!"

His heart pounded violently against his ribs.

Silence settled outside.

Cautiously, he peeked out—only to find the hallway completely empty.

The realization sent a fresh wave of terror through him.

He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face, desperate to sober up.

But no matter how hard he scrubbed, Evelyn's piercing gaze and that chilling smile remained burned into his mind.

Back in the ballroom, the atmosphere had lightened.

Guests mingled, sipping champagne and laughing over delicate hors d'oeuvres.

Evelyn's eyes landed on Henry Blackwood, and for a moment, she had to fight the urge to rush to him.

Impulsiveness wouldn't serve her now.

Across the room, Victoria seethed, her nails digging into her palm.

Her perfect plan had crumbled, and now she had to maintain her sweet facade while watching Evelyn steal the spotlight.

Her eyes narrowed as Alexander approached Evelyn, leaning in close to whisper something in her ear.

Then, to Victoria's horror, he offered his arm—and Evelyn took it.

Her grip tightened around her champagne flute, the delicate stem threatening to snap.

She watched, fuming, as Alexander led Evelyn straight to Henry Blackwood.

The old man's face lit up the moment he saw her.

He even reached out to pat her shoulder affectionately.

"Evelyn, my dear! You've made this old man's night."

Henry treated her as if nothing had ever happened.

He had never judged her, never doubted her.

In fact, he had been the only one who stood by her, protecting her fiercely since the day she married Alexander.

Gratitude swelled in Evelyn's chest.

Three years ago, when Henry had been hospitalized with heart complications, she had been terrified.

Seeing him now, healthy and vibrant, eased the lingering ache in her heart.

But then Henry sighed, shaking his head.

"Such a brilliant woman—beautiful, intelligent. And yet my grandson was too blind to see what he had."

He shot Alexander a disapproving glare.

"What was so wrong with Evelyn that you'd throw her away for that other one? Hmph!"

Evelyn's lips curved faintly.

"It wasn't Alexander's fault, Grandfather. Some things just aren't meant to be. Right, Alexander?"

She lifted her gaze—only to find his dark eyes already fixed on her.

Had he been watching her this entire time?

His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—something warm, almost regretful.

His lips parted.

"Fate had nothing to do with it. The truth is, I never deserved you."

Evelyn froze.

His words struck her like a physical blow.

"Tell me, Evelyn," he murmured, his voice low. "If we could start over... would you let me love you properly this time?"

Her breath caught.

She felt his arm tighten slightly around hers, as if afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip.

Henry scoffed, breaking the tension.

"Hmph! If I were Evelyn, I'd say no!"

Evelyn exhaled shakily.

For a moment, she had almost let herself hope.

But this was just another one of Alexander's games—another performance for his grandfather's sake.