Chapter 550

Nathan Blackwood's intense gaze locked onto Evelyn Sinclair's lips.

No lipstick adorned them, yet they were perfect—soft pink with a natural peach tint.

He wanted to taste them.

As he leaned in, Evelyn viciously kicked his shin.

Nathan staggered back, shock flashing across his face.

Her expression was icy. Without a word, she turned to leave.

A vein pulsed at his temple. He lunged forward, gripping her wrist.

"You said you'd move past everything," he growled. "So why can't you give me a chance? You accepted Preston Sinclair. Why reject me?"

Evelyn met his gaze calmly. "Do you really think you compare to Preston?"

The words struck him like a physical blow.

He stiffened. Was she angry about the discarded gift? Or was it his confession of desire?

His jaw clenched. He didn’t release her.

"You’ve chosen him?"

Evelyn studied him for a long moment before answering.

Nathan felt his heart crack open.

"You took him to meet your father?"

"Yes."

"You’re getting married?" His voice turned dangerously low.

Evelyn’s lips curled slightly. "Yes."

Nathan’s expression darkened. Emotions raged in his eyes, his grip on her trembling.

The air turned frigid.

Nathan felt his body freeze, the cold seeping into his bones.

He’d accept any punishment—but losing Evelyn wasn’t an option.

"Even prisoners get second chances," he rasped. "Am I truly unforgivable?"

His voice was raw. His dark eyes were bloodshot, the corners red.

Agony twisted in his chest. He already knew the answer, yet he needed to hear it from her.

A cool breeze swept between them.

Evelyn’s reply was barely audible. "Yes."

The world collapsed around him.

Crushing. Suffocating.

He couldn’t breathe.

Silence stretched.

Evelyn expected fury—for him to snap, to force his way into her life again.

She wouldn’t forgive him if he did.

Who forgives a rabid dog after it bites?

She twisted free and stepped inside, slamming the door behind her.

Evelyn leaned against it, exhaling shakily. Her palms were damp.

The lights stayed off.

Through the window, she watched Nathan limp toward his car—his old injury flaring from her kick.

Her chest tightened.

Was that pity?

She was letting go of the past. But what had Nathan wanted tonight?

To claim her.

Because she was close to Preston, he needed to mark his territory?

She refused to entertain his insecurities.

Minutes passed. The engine never started.

Guilt gnawed at her.

She cracked the door open—only to find Nathan still there, disheveled, head bowed.