Chapter 419

Evelyn spun around, her breath catching when she saw the man standing mere feet away.

She hadn't realized she'd instinctively responded to him calling her "Evie"—a name only one person had ever used.

Alexander's dark, unreadable gaze locked onto hers. Evelyn composed herself swiftly, a practiced smile curving her lips.

"Evie?" She laughed lightly, tilting her head. "Don't tell me you're still caught up in last night's performance like Mrs. Kingsley? I'm Vivian now, remember?"

Her tone was playful, but her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the magazine in her hands. She stepped closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a ghost of the past.

"Though I must say, I never expected you to call Evelyn so affectionately. Wasn't she the woman you despised?"

Alexander didn't flinch. He simply watched her, his expression inscrutable as she moved past him to sit on the bed, flipping idly through the pages.

"Quite the twist, wasn't it?" she mused. "Evelyn being the Kingsleys' real daughter all along. Switched at birth by some scheming maid." A bitter chuckle escaped her. "Pity the truth came too late. She's already gone."

Alexander sat beside her, his presence overwhelming even in silence. His eyes traced the delicate curve of her profile.

"The truth still came," he said quietly.

Evelyn's fingers stilled on the page. A cold smile touched her lips. "And what good does that do? Can it undo the lies? The pain?" She lifted her gaze, the warmth draining from her voice. "Look at Evelyn. Slandered. Betrayed. Used by everyone—especially you, the man she loved."

Her next words were daggers. "She's dead, Alexander. Your remorse changes nothing."

The word "dead" struck him like a physical blow. His jaw tightened, but his eyes never left hers—those brilliant, familiar eyes that haunted his dreams.

"If she weren't," he asked hoarsely, "would she ever forgive those who wronged her?"

Evelyn set the magazine aside. "If life could be rewritten?" She met his gaze squarely. "The only thing she'd wish is to have never met you. Some scars never fade. Forgiveness isn't impossible—but trust? That's gone forever."

The raw honesty in her words left Alexander hollow. The ache behind his ribs swelled until it threatened to choke him.

He'd never realized how much casual words could eviscerate a soul.

How many times had he torn into her with cruelty? How many wounds had he carved into her heart, only to expect her to keep loving him?

Forgive?

You don't deserve it, Alexander Blackwood.

The next morning, after dropping Ethan at school, Evelyn slid into her car, ready to resume her search for clues about her lost child.

A news alert buzzed on her phone.

She tapped the screen—and froze.

The video showed Eleanor and William Kingsley at a Montgomery Enterprises press conference, their faces drawn but resolute.

"We confirm today," William announced, voice cracking, "that Evelyn Sinclair was our biological daughter, stolen from us nearly thirty years ago."

Eleanor's hands trembled as she added, "And the woman who pretended to be her—Victoria Lancaster—is nothing but a fraud."

The camera zoomed in as Eleanor's composure shattered. A single tear slipped free before she steeled herself, lifting her chin with regal dignity.

Evelyn watched until the end.

She was smiling.

But her cheeks were wet.