Chapter 337

"What?"

"What did you just say?"

Eleanor Kingsley and Margaret Blackwood shot to their feet, their faces twisted in shock.

"Vivian Prescott, repeat yourself!" Margaret demanded, her voice sharp.

Evelyn Sinclair studied Victoria Lancaster's reaction—her widened eyes, her slack jaw, the disbelief etched across her delicate features. Then she turned her gaze to Alexander Blackwood, whose dark, unreadable eyes gave nothing away.

"Alexander," Evelyn said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'm carrying your child."

She reached into her bag and handed him a crisp medical report.

"I had the tests done this morning. The doctor confirmed it."

Alexander took the document, his expression unreadable.

Three weeks pregnant.

"Let me see that!" Margaret snatched the paper from his hands, scanning it frantically.

Eleanor leaned in, her face darkening as she read the results.

Victoria's breath hitched. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her dress as she stared at Evelyn, envy and devastation warring in her eyes.

"How…" Her voice trembled. "How is this possible?"

Eleanor crumpled the report in her fist and hurled it to the ground.

"Vivian Prescott, you scheming little—"

"Enough." Alexander's voice cut through the room like ice. His gaze, sharp as daggers, silenced Eleanor instantly. He reached for Evelyn's hand. "We're leaving."

Evelyn smirked at Victoria, whose face twisted in fury, before turning back to Alexander. "Of course."

Margaret rushed forward, blocking their path. "Alexander! Have you lost your mind? You're marrying Victoria in three days! You can't just walk out with her!"

Eleanor's face flushed with rage. "First you call off the wedding, then you agree to it again, and now you're still tangled up with this woman? What kind of game are you playing? Victoria deserves an explanation!"

"I owe you nothing," Alexander said coldly. His grip on Evelyn's hand tightened as he led her toward the door.

Eleanor sputtered, her fury rendering her speechless. "How could my daughter fall for a man like you?"

Margaret, flustered, tried to salvage the situation. "This Vivian Prescott is worse than Evelyn Sinclair ever was! Victoria, don’t worry—I’ll always stand by you."

Victoria's eyes glistened with crocodile tears. She stormed out just in time to see Alexander open the car door for Evelyn before driving away.

Her nails dug into her palms. A slow, venomous smile curled her lips.

"Vivian Prescott, you think this little stunt will stop me? Just wait. My wedding to Alexander will happen in three days."

The car ride was silent.

Alexander glanced at Evelyn through the rearview mirror. Her gaze was distant, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the window.

He pulled over abruptly, the tires crunching against gravel.

"Give me time," he said, his voice low. "I’ll make this right."

"You mean you’ll marry Victoria in three days?" Evelyn asked flatly. "Is this your idea of responsibility?"

She turned away, her agitation clear, and flung the car door open.

Alexander followed, catching her wrist. "Vivian."

She didn’t stop.

He pulled her back, forcing her to face him.

Her striking eyes met his, and for once, the ice in his gaze thawed.

"Vivian," he repeated, his voice rough with sincerity. "I want to marry you. Just give me time to fix this."

Evelyn laughed softly. "Mr. Blackwood, I don’t need your charity. If you love Victoria so much, I won’t stand in your way. The child is mine to raise."

She reached up, smoothing his collar with deliberate slowness. Then she rose onto her toes, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered,

"I hope you’re happy. Forever."

Her voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity.

Alexander’s pulse stuttered.