Chapter 3

Evelyn collapsed onto the floor, the sudden kick sending shockwaves through her body. Instinctively, her hands flew to her stomach, shielding the life growing inside her.

Before she could even catch her breath, Richard Montgomery struck her again, this time across the head.

"You wretched girl!" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "Why would Victoria throw her life away for someone like you? You're the one who should be dead!"

Every word was laced with hatred, his disgust for Evelyn palpable.

"Father, it's alright," Victoria's trembling voice cut through the tension. She stood at the other end of the room, tears streaming down her face. "I was never meant to be with Alexander. I don't blame Evelyn."

Evelyn's lip was split, blood trickling down her chin. Her head throbbed, but she forced herself to look up.

There, she saw Victoria pressed against Alexander Blackwood's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. His expression was tender, his gaze soft—a stark contrast to the cold indifference he always showed Evelyn.

The sight was like a knife to her heart.

If not for that fateful night, Alexander's wife would have been Victoria, not some unwanted outsider living on borrowed time.

Even though she hadn't orchestrated what happened, guilt gnawed at her.

"Victoria, how can you still defend her?" Richard seethed. "If she hadn't set that trap, you'd be Mrs. Blackwood now! You wouldn't have been driven to such despair!"

"Father, please," Victoria sighed, casting a wounded glance at Evelyn. "Evelyn, if you loved Alexander, you could have just told me. I would have stepped aside. But to go to such lengths... I'm so disappointed in you."

"Victoria, I didn't—"

"Still lying?" Richard roared. "You shameless wretch! I'll end you myself!"

He grabbed a nearby chair, raising it high. Evelyn flinched, curling in on herself, hands instinctively shielding her stomach.

"Get out," Alexander's icy voice cut through the room. "Unless you want to die here."

Richard froze, chair still in hand.

Trembling, Evelyn scrambled to her feet.

For her unborn child's sake, she had to escape.

Head bowed, she fled past the judgmental stares and whispered accusations. Her face burned, her steps unsteady as she limped toward the exit.

At the door, she realized she'd left her phone behind. Swallowing her fear, she turned back.

As she reached the elevator, the doors slid open—and Alexander stepped out.

He stood tall, unshaken, his striking features making him impossible to miss in the crowd.

Why was he leaving so soon? Shouldn't he be comforting Victoria?

Evelyn didn’t dare dwell on it. She ducked her head and slipped into the elevator.

Like a thief in the night, she crept back to Victoria's door, spotting her phone discarded near the wall.

Just as she bent to retrieve it, Victoria's laughter—bright and mocking—echoed from inside.

"That country mouse looked so pathetic, beaten down like that. It was almost satisfying."

Country mouse?

Evelyn's breath hitched.

Was she talking about her?

"If only I hadn’t walked into the wrong room that night," Victoria continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "Alexander would have been mine. That nobody doesn’t deserve him. It makes me sick, knowing he was tainted by her."

Evelyn's blood ran cold.

The truth was unraveling before her—but she wasn’t sure she could face it.