Chapter 561

Evelyn Sinclair arched a delicate brow, her gaze locking onto Nathan Blackwood.

He advanced with predatory grace, his usual controlled demeanor shattered by raw intensity.

"Going to a hotel?"

His voice was rough, strained with barely contained emotion.

Nathan hated showing her this darker side of himself—the possessive, volatile man beneath the polished exterior. But seeing that carbon-copy of himself near Evelyn had ignited something primal.

Jealousy clawed at his chest, sharp and suffocating.

She knew what that cheap imitation wanted. Yet she allowed him close. Close enough to feed her, to touch her—

While she'd ignored the plate he had prepared for her.

His fingers twitched.

Evelyn didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head, lips curving in a mocking smile. "You heard everything, didn’t you?"

Let him misunderstand. Let him seethe.

She owed him no explanations.

Nathan’s jaw clenched. He stepped closer, her sweet floral scent wrapping around him, tightening the coil of frustration in his gut.

"Stay away from him, Evelyn." His voice dropped to a warning growl. "Or I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

Before she could react, his hand cupped her chin, forcing her lips to his.

It wasn’t gentle.

His mouth claimed hers with bruising pressure, as if he could erase the thought of anyone else touching her.

Evelyn didn’t struggle. But her stillness was worse—her cold indifference cutting deeper than any resistance.

Nathan barely registered the metallic tang of blood when she bit him. He only pulled back when he saw the derision in her eyes.

Her lips, reddened from his assault, parted.

"How could a man who’s kind, considerate, and actually attentive ever be your substitute?" Her laugh was soft, venomous. "Tell me, Nathan—could you ever measure up?"

His entire body tensed.

Rage and something far more dangerous flickered in his darkened gaze.

"You’re pushing me," he warned, voice hoarse.

Evelyn merely smiled. "I’m just being honest."

That was the final straw.

Nathan yanked her against him, one arm locking around her waist as his mouth crashed down again.

This time, she didn’t bite.

She didn’t have to.

Every inch of her radiated icy rejection.

Still, he kissed her like a drowning man clinging to his last breath.

When he finally broke away, his thumb traced the curve of her swollen lips, his breathing ragged.

"I can give you everything he does," he murmured, voice thick with desperation.

"If you’ll let me."