Chapter 473

Six years.

It had been six long years since that fateful day.

Evelyn pressed her finger against the biometric lock, the door clicking open with a soft beep. As she stepped inside, her mind drifted back—back to the prison cell, the cold concrete walls, the torment she endured.

She could still hear the rain pounding against the bars that stormy night. The hands that forced her down. The pain that never truly faded.

And tomorrow—tomorrow was her child’s birthday.

But this year was different. This year, she wouldn’t kneel before an empty grave.

Because she knew.

Her child was alive.

"Mommy, tomorrow’s my birthday!" Ethan’s voice, bright and clear, snapped her back to the present.

Her breath hitched. The ache in her chest flared, sharp and relentless.

Ethan—Victoria and Alexander’s son. The cruel irony that he shared the same birthday as her own lost child.

"Mommy, you’ll celebrate with me, right?" Tiny fingers tugged at the hem of her coat.

Evelyn looked down into those wide, hopeful eyes—so innocent, so trusting. She forced a smile, brushing a hand through his soft curls.

"Of course I will."

Ethan’s face lit up. He thrust out his pinky, grinning. "Pinky promise?"

She hooked her finger around his, sealing the vow. His delighted laughter filled the apartment, and for a moment, the weight on her shoulders eased.

Shrugging off her coat, she moved toward the kitchen, then paused.

The guest room.

She had expected it to be empty.

Instead, she found Alexander sprawled across the bed, exactly as he had been that morning.

Has he been here all day?

Even with a fever, he shouldn’t have slept this long.

Frowning, she approached, her gaze sweeping over his still form. She reached out, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

Cool. No fever. His color had returned.

Satisfied, she started to pull away—

A hand clamped around her wrist.

Her pulse jumped.

Alexander’s eyes were open now, dark and knowing, a faint smirk playing on his lips. She yanked her arm free, glaring.

"Were you pretending this whole time?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed himself up, his voice low, teasing. "You still care."

"Care?" She scoffed, ice dripping from her words. "I just didn’t want you rotting in my apartment."

His smirk faltered. In her cold stare, he saw the reflection of his own past cruelty.

"Leave. I don’t want you here."

She turned on her heel, storming out before he could respond.

Alexander watched her go, his chest tight. He had heard her come in, had feigned sleep just to see how she would react.

And despite the venom in her words, she had checked on him.

That was enough.

For now.

Stepping into the hallway, he caught sight of Ethan, then Evelyn in the kitchen, her back rigid as she worked.

A thought struck him.

Does she know?

Does Evelyn know Ethan is hers?